*Peeks over safety of laptop screen* So, I haven't died! Honestly, I've been staring at the Word doc for this story every single day and adding little pieces here and there, real life is unfortunately taking up more of my time than I would like it to (the preferred ratio tends toward 4:6 in favour of fantasy). BUT! here it is, the next installment of 'Flawed'. Thought about posting this for the October fic-a-thon at LJ but decided to force motivation by publishing this now so I am forced to keep writing!
As always, my muse feeds off your thoughts and comments so feel free to feed her! She's been a decidedly picky eater lately...
"Sergeant Munch, I'm grateful for you taking the time to meet with us, I understand this unit is unfortunately especially in demand."
"John please, Miranda." The older gentleman clasped her hand warmly, and the eyes that at first glance contained a hard-bitten cynicism softened into a wry warmth so reminiscent of her Andrea's that she couldn't help but smile softly in return.
Sergeant Munch opened the door of an office and ushered them inside before introducing them to the two other occupants in the room.
"Andy, Miranda, this is Captain Cragen, my boss and the head of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit."
"Captain," Miranda acknowledged the man with a respectful nod of her head before her gaze turned to the stunning brunette at his side.
"Olivia Benson," the woman offered before John had a chance to speak.
"She'll be the lead detective on the case as Munch can't be seen working a case involving a member of his family," Cragen nodded over at Andy. "She also happens to be the best detective on the squad."
"Hey!" Munch protested comically before his expression turned serious once again. "Seriously, Liv is one of the best."
"Stop it you guys, you're making me blush," the woman laughed easily as she walked towards Andy and Miranda. Her face and voice took on a distinct low timbre that rivalled Miranda's most deadly tones as she locked eyes with each of the women in turn and spoke in all seriousness now.
"We will get him, I promise you. This certainly wouldn't be the first time we've dealt with an arrogant prick who believes everything and anything he lays his hands on is his for the taking and to use as he likes."
"Will my daughters need to be brought into this? They were home the night of the attack." Miranda asked, although there was no question as to what she expected the answer to be. Feeling a warm hand slip behind her to rest on the small on her back, the tension eased in her shoulders slightly and she leaned into the subtle embrace, an interaction that wasn't missed by Detective Benson.
Olivia dipped her head slightly as she admitted there was a possibility the girls would be called forward to testify, however their DA would do her best to ensure the girls be kept out of the investigation and the court proceedings as much as possible. "It will depend on whether the defense calls the girls forward."
"Why would they do that?" Miranda asked sharply, "surely nothing the girls could say would help acquit Stephen, if anything it would be the opposite."
Andy blinked as she realized what Olivia was talking about, her year of pre-law coming back in the face of the current investigation.
At Andrea's exhale, Miranda turned to the younger woman, who nodded slowly.
The girls, if they're declared swearable, will only be able to testify that that they heard raised voices from downstairs – not that they heard Stephen. We can try to bring that they heard his voice in front of the jury but you can bet the defense will throw it out claiming hearsay."
"Surely the jury would believe my daughters would recognize the voice of the man who had lived with them for the last 3 years. Even if they were to do a lineup…"
Andy shook her head again, giving her hand over to Miranda who seemed in need of something to hold onto as she realized the difficulties they faced ahead.
"The defense will use the argument that the girls' identification of Stephen's voice in a lineup is inadmissible because it's possible that they're only picking out his voice because it's the only familiar one to them, and therefore their recognizing his voice is compromised by your previous living conditions."
"Very good, Miss Sachs," Cragen's eyebrows were raised slightly as the younger woman finished her assessment.
"Stanford pre-law, years ago," Andy admitted, blushing slightly at her uncle's knowing grin.
The next few hours were a blur of statement, interviews and written accounts; and by the end of the day both women were completely shattered. Miranda for having to live through the events again and make herself vulnerable in the retelling; and Andrea, watching her go through it. She knew that in this case, Miranda's memory for detail was as much a curse as it was a gift. After the final statement had been read over one last time and signed, the pair were left alone in Cragen's office as they waited for the DA to file charges against Stephen. Miranda let her head fall to Andy's shoulder and the woman placed an unobtrusive hand on her hip and pressed her lips to the snowy crown beneath her chin. Miranda sighed, grateful for the silence and the peace that Andrea's presence and Andrea's presence alone could give to her. She had been talking and talked to all day, and she knew the younger woman wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling, but she also knew that Andrea understood that voicing those worries would only irritate Miranda. And so they simply sat, the light physical contact between them telling each what they needed to know about the other; still, Andy drew both comfort and concern from the equally tense and limp body pressed against her side. The effort it had taken for the older woman to keep her mask of icy indifference while recounting personal details was bound to take its toll in another facet of her life, pushing the emotions away only meant they would resurface at some later, unknown point. All which led back to this moment and its purpose in letting down the burden of holding up those walls and seeking refuge in the safety and strength of an embrace that was not her own. A light knock on the door signalled Detective Benson's reappearance, giving Andy and Miranda a moment to straighten and separate. Pulling a chair closer to the threadbare couch, the detective gave them the rundown of what would happen next.
"Just a few final questions, Miranda, so the defense doesn't have any opportunity to blindside us with any other information that may be relevant to the case. As a lawyer himself, you can be sure Stephen's going to try and drag you through the mud and discredit you in front of the jury.
Miranda paled slightly at the mention of the jury, Andy pursed her lips and brown eyes flashed angrily as she mentally cursed Stephen for the millionth time for putting Miranda through this. Re-living the assault with the added humiliation and discomfort of having to reveal personal details to a group of strangers.
Miranda stiffened, but the stunning older brunette was seemingly immune to the ice in the older woman's stare. "Are you currently in a relationship?" Det. Benson carefully avoided looking at the younger woman with this question, knowing better than to assume despite her surety that the two were together.
"Yes." Miranda's lips thinned as she tolerated the personal question.
"Were you involved with this person or anyone else prior to filing divorce papers?"
"No."
Even though she was no longer touching Miranda, Andy could feel the tension reappear in her lover's body and she slipped her hand into the older woman's, squeezing it reassuringly as Miranda shot a sharp glance in her direction, silently questioning her actions in front of the detective.
Andy patted the hand beneath hers before bringing it to her lips and turning her gaze towards the detective.
"With the assumption that this information will not leave this room or this precinct until absolutely necessary, Detective Benson, let me make this simpler for all of us. Yes, Miranda and I are in a relationship. It started the day after Miranda's assault while we were in the hospital. Nothing happened between us prior to this date despite any feelings that would indicate the contrary. Miranda's medical records from the attack will also be called into question I presume, so we can also confirm that Miranda is almost thirteen weeks pregnant with twins and intends to carry through with the pregnancy despite its high risk status. Biologically, Stephen Tomlinson is the babies' father however, as of yet, he is not aware of their existence."
Miranda's features, which at first registered mild surprise, had settled into a smirk several sentences in to Andrea's exposition and explanation of the unique circumstances surrounding the case, saving Miranda from having to do so when her nerves were already run ragged from the in-depth interrogations of the day.
Det. Benson smirked right back and nodded her head in Andy's direction in acknowledgement before addressing the room once again.
"Once the charges are officially filed and served, Mr. Tomlinson's lawyers will have access to Miranda's formal statement as well as access to the medical reports from the emergency room intake. I would strongly suggest issuing a statement or releasing some information to the press to give you a foothold before all this breaks. I don't imagine Stephen's lawyers will think twice about leaking any sensitive information to swing public opinion in his favour." She glanced pointedly at Miranda's slightly swollen waistline, not flinching when Miranda's gaze narrowed and her lips pursed.
"She's right, Miranda," Andy muttered as she exhaled noisily and flopped back against the sofa. "Even if he does hold off telling the press immediately, once these charges are announced you'll be in the public eye more than ever; even if you declare potato sacks the next big trend, I don't think we can hide your bump for much longer, especially not for another three weeks or so like we had hoped."
Having been careful not to do so thus far in the presence of the detective, Miranda's hand slipped to her stomach and she unconsciously mimicked the familiar circular movements of Andrea's usual, casual caresses as she swallowed the uncomfortable truth of the younger woman's statement. It didn't sit well however, and Miranda breathed in carefully through her nose, willing her stomach to settle before she lost every last shred of dignity within the four walls of the precinct building.
"Easy," Andy resumed her position directly beside Miranda and Olivia watched as the younger woman's mere presence calmed the elder's, at least to a point where she could speak.
"It's too soon!" Miranda insisted in a harsh whisper. "If something were to happen and it had already been made public, I…"
"Don't think like that, Miranda."
"If I don't, who will, Andrea?" the older woman's patience that had been at breaking point all day finally snapped. "Will you? Or will you simply maintain the foolish fantasy that everything will be fine. You may not have lived long enough to know this, Andrea, but rest assured I have, and you can be equally 'assured' that everything does not always turn out alright, no matter how much we may wish or will it."
Miranda stopped suddenly only to press her hand to the spasming muscles in her stomach, whose sharp contractions could be seen clearly despite the looseness of her blouse and a low, nearly silent moan escaped through gritted teeth.
"Hey," a cool hand cupped her chin and turned Miranda's face to look at hers. "Look at me, come on. Now deep breaths, easy…it's okay, just breathe with me."
Detective Benson had slipped out of the room without notice to give the couple some privacy, but now she returned, several minutes later with a bottle of still mineral water and a glass which she set down on the desk next to the pair.
Beneath her hand, Andy could feel jerky movements of Miranda's stomach muscles slow and she continued to rub the her back for another long moment until she thought she would be able to speak without retching.
"Do you need the restroom?" she questioned gently, moving the white forelock from Miranda's embarrassed gaze.
The older woman shut her eyes and shook her head no, before opening them again and moving her hand away from her mouth, reaching out shakily for the water on the desk.
As Miranda regained her composure, Andy turned to Detective Benson. "Is there anything else today that requires Miranda's presence here? Or are we able to go home and wait for the call from the DA."
"Alex, ADA Cabot I mean, just texted me. Charges have been filed and Stephen is being served as we speak. The only other decision you have to make for the moment is whether or not to file a restraining order against him."
"Why wouldn't we?" Miranda asked sharply, some colour returning to her cheeks.
"In order to be able to enforce the order, Stephen will have to be notified of your location within a kilometre or so between now and the trial date."
"No." Miranda said instantly, taking another sip of water to cover the tremble of her lips as she spoke.
"But Miranda," Andy started.
"I said no, Andrea. He has taken enough from me, I won't be made to feel a prisoner in my own city." Miranda's voice was hard and sure, but her eyes showed such exhaustion and pleading at the corners that Andy only sighed and took Miranda's hand as she acquiesced.
"You can always change your mind," Detective Benson tried to ease their respective worries as she handed over her card, scribbling her personal cell number on the backs. "Call me if you have ANY questions or concerns, okay?"
"Thank you, detective. Please pass on my and Andrea's gratitude to your captain and the rest of your squad for the compassion and discretion you've shown in this matter. Rest assured, the NYPD will be receiving a larger than usual cheque from me this Christmas.
"We'll get him, Miranda."
Miranda nodded once sharply before donning her sunglasses and sweeping out the door, leaving Andrea to follow.
"Thank you, Detective Benson," the young brunette smiled brightly at the woman holding the door before her features darkened and hardened past what the older brunette would have thought possible. "Get him."
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