HOMO HOMINI LUPUS

This one was hard. It brought up all of her latent anger. That asshole Lucas Colter and his constant refusals of their help. That man could spin it whatever way he wanted but the fact was he was putting himself before his daughter. His own daughter. Because Lucas Colter was a dirty embezzler. His personal identity was so wrapped up in his stuff and his prestige, that he'd lost all reason. And let's face it, if you were Lucas Colter and your life was contest between your daughter's virtue and 14 years in a medium security prison, the kid came out a clear second.

Alex's rampaging feminism was never far off the surface. This disgusting dad was everything that was wrong with society, including the fact that women (like his wife and two innocent young daughters) were ruled by this ridiculous patriarchy! This system of masculine overlords who told women when to jump and how high! Who told women to just lay down and take it like good little victims of ambition!

The whole thing made her want to vomit.

Every ounce of this case was repugnant.

Except for Bobby.

She smiled in spite of herself, because she was trying Bobby (the name) on for size. She was using it all the time now. Same number of syllables as Goren but it felt so much easier, so much friendlier in the mouth and then rolling off her tongue.

Bobby was as disturbed by all this as she was. He was fighting just as hard as she was for Maggie Colter.

For Alex the turning point had come at the top of the Colter's staircase, when she'd once again found herself gripping a newel post 5 anxious paces behind Bobby. Wait! She wanted to call. Don't you dare bull in a china shop this kid! But it was good that she hadn't said a word, because that moment inside that house had made her reassess everything she'd laid on him, all her distancing and her snark and her comfortably negative conceptions.

At first Alex stood back as the mother did the introductions. All of the women in this house had dark, haunted eyes. Then Alex took her seat near the bed. And engaged her sensitivity training. But she soon found it was no use. With Maggie Colter she just couldn't break thorough. It became apparent that her gender was a liability. It went against everything they'd been taught to do. Women and children with 'sensitivities' about men were always better being questioned by women. This girl had extenuating circumstances, Stockholm, she was identifying with the men that had violated her. Alex edged slowly to back of the room and let Bobby handle the young rape victim.

At first she had watched him moving and twitching and ranting. He was brash and far too loud for this small, small space and for this poor, sad, vulnerable teen lying fetally on a maroon bedspread, Alex wondered if she'd made a horrible mistake.

And then the breakthrough.

And it was awesome to behold.

And Alex watched Bobby sit, and then soften and then curve deeply toward their victim, then he lowered his voice, then he took her in his arms.

Alex watched him coo and console, petting those scraggly ginger locks on that destroyed head. And he touched that child with equally unbridled care.

Alex felt her face heat and she felt blessed just to bear witness. He is a good person. And slowly, ever so slowly, Alex felt that annoyance and dissatisfaction, that was now nine months deep, thaw and ripple in the warmth of a winter chinook.

"Let me see those hands." He asked as they drove away. She held one out. It was solid, unwavering. This was the post shoot test. Were you lucid and sure, or shaky and anxious.

"Steady as a rock." She met his eye.

"It was a good shoot. The world is a better place without him." He said and he meant it.

"Thanks partner."

Alex was mostly at peace with what she'd had to do, but still, righteous shoot or not, it was important to have his support.

"Call me tonight, if things get rough." He reached out then and touched her elbow. It was the first time he'd ever done that deliberately.

"I will."

And she really meant it.