EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE:
By Indigo Butterflyz
February 2002
Disclaimer: I do not own them. I am merely borrowing them for my own crazy devices. Don't worry, I will return them when I am done. ^_^
Spoilers: Mainly Season 4… however, be warned that some chapters may refer to episodes from other seasons…
Author's Note: I just watched a rerun of the first episode from Season 4, 'Sex, Lies And Second Thoughts,' hence the inspiration to write another chapter. Terrific episode. The Ally and Larry interaction was just wonderful!
Ally: You're the biggest ass I have ever met.
Larry: Perhaps this is where you kiss it good bye.
Classic! Truly classic. Anyway, I just want to thank all you wonderful people for commenting on the previous chapters. It really means a lot and provides motivation for me to continue writing more. So, without further a due…
CHAPTER THREE: EVERY BOND YOU BREAK------------------
Okay so, possibly the greatest love of my life is back in Boston… so what? And yes he visited me last night and said he liked my hair… big DEAL! And… uh… just because he's walked into the conference room looking yummier than ever doesn't mean I have forgiven him. No of course not. This is a case. He is the enemy. This is war! I am going to be a hundred percent professional…
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"Let's get straight down to business, shall we?" Larry readily suggested, flashing a dashing smile as he sat down with his client.
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Or at least die trying…
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"Fine," Ally and Corretta agreed.
"Great," he curtly replied, opening his file and taking a pen out of his shirt pocket. Turning his attention towards Mrs. Henderson, he cleared his throat before beginning, "Mrs. Henderson, you claim that you divorced my client on claims of irreconcilable differences, is that correct?" Seeing Mrs. Henderson nod her head in agreement, he continued, "And the reason you don't want him to have custody of your daughter…" He looked at the girl who was sitting next to her mother. Pausing, he searched for her name in the file, "…your daughter, Annabelle, is because of these irreconcilable differences?"
"The reason," Mrs. Henderson coldly replied, "why I don't want him to have custody is because he signed a prenuptial contract saying he would give it up--"
"--If it was proven that he was an unfit father and husband," Larry interrupted contentedly.
"Yes," she replied.
He tilted his head momentarily, as if observing her reaction. "I see. And the reason you believe that he was an unfit husband and father was…" he lingered, waiting for her to reply.
"He left us," she simply stated.
"Uh huh," leaning against the back of his chair and bringing his hand up to his chin, again he paused, as if carefully considering her response. "Okay," he abruptly stated all of a sudden, sitting upright as he closed his file. "That's it from me."
Ally twitched her head. "Wh-what?" she shot back, bewildered at the short span of time that had passed for Larry to complete his deposition.
Corretta leaned over and whispered in Ally's ear, "Remember, he probably only set this thing up so he could buy himself time until tomorrow."
"Actually," Larry explained, smiling, having overheard his ex-coworker's remark, "I came in here to see if there was a way of preventing this case from going to court. But having heard Mrs. Henderson's comments, I am afraid it is unavoidable."
"Ah… oh…" Ally replied, relaxing slightly back into her seat.
Larry leaned forward on the conference table, his fingers interlocked. "So, have you got any questions?" he inquired, almost teasingly.
"Plenty." Ally followed suit, leaning over the table, her eyes staring at Larry with determination.
"Then go ahead," Larry replied, wagging his eyebrows as he leant back in his chair, his hands behind his head.
*****
"Richard," Elaine cried, entering his office.
Upon seeing her, Richard, who had been reclining back in his chair with his feet on the table, immediately sat bolt upright and started flicking through the notes and papers on his desk. "Sorry Elaine, can't talk," he quickly muttered, trying to stare intently at the file in his hand, "busy, y'know, money."
Elaine crossed her arms, as she looked down upon her boss. "Very funny Richard," she replied, unmoved by his petty excuse. "You could at least pretend to be reading that file the right way round."
"Oh," Richard scrambled to turn the file around, with little success, as the papers fell out and onto the ground. Sighing he finally gave in, "Okay, you got me. What do you want?"
"The Christmas party," she explained, beginning to become excited, "you never finished talking to me about it."
"Well," Richard stood up and walked over, putting his hand on her shoulder, " that's because I don't think we are going to be having a Christmas party this year."
"What?" she replied in shocked at the announcement. Cage & Fish had celebrated Christmas by holding a party every year since the two co-partners had established it. It was a time to get together and rejoice. It was an occasion to cherish and enjoy. It was a moment to laugh, relax and have fun. And for Elaine Vassal, it was an opportunity for her to seize if ever there was one. "But it's… it's my chance to be on stage… to perform…" She turned around to face him, "How often do I get a chance to do that?"
"Oh well, I dunno Elaine," he stated, unsympathetically, sitting on his desk, "just about only every chance you get."
"That's besides the point," she uncaringly retorted. "You can't cancel this year's party."
"Give me one good reason," Richard challenged, folding his arms.
"It's tradition," a familiar voice softly replied from the doorway.
"John!" Richard exclaimed, his expression changing to glee.
John Cage quietly smiled, holding his coat in his arms. "Hello Richard, Elaine," he nodded towards the two. Richard's office door had been left open and John had been drawn to the lively discussion coming from within.
"Hi John," Elaine cheerfully greeted. She shot Richard an unkind look, as she headed for the door. "You're just in time to convince Scrooge here not to cancel this year's Christmas party," she explained in a softened tone. She flirtatiously winked at the eccentric attorney, "I mean I was all prepared for the spotlight with a sizzling new number."
"Thank goodness she's gone," Richard replied, slumping his shoulders. "I thought she would never leave."
"So what's with canceling the party?" John asked, sitting down on the couch.
"Ah, nothing," Richard dismissed, shaking his head. "Nothing really," he reassured, trying to change the subject, "Has anyone else seen you yet?"
"Nope," his co-partner replied, lightly shaking his head. "A part from you and Elaine, no one. I was going to see Ally, but she wasn't in her office."
"Ah yeah," Richard acknowledged, "she's in the conference room… deposition or something work related." He shrugged his shoulders, not really sure of or bothered with the details. "Come on," he motioned for his friend to stand up, "let's get out of this place and get some lunch."
"But it's only mid morning," John exclaimed, pointing to the face on his watch.
"Ah John," Richard shrewdly explained, "That's one of the beauties of being the boss of your own firm, lunch is when you want it to be." Slowly standing, John nodded his head in approval. As Richard put on his coat, he stopped with hesitation before intently saying, "It's good to have you back, John."
"It's good to be back," John simply replied, smiling.
*****
"John?" Ally shouted upon seeing John and Richard waiting outside of the lift. "John!" She ran up and hugged him. "When? How?" she blurted, releasing him from her embrace. Tears of surprise and happiness welled in the corners of her eyes, which she quickly wiped away. "Richard told me you wouldn't be back until sometime closer to Christmas."
"Ah yeah well," he replied, "I thought I might as well spend Thanks Giving here in Boston."
Stepping back, he quietly took in the appearance of his dear friend. Her complexion looked paler, and it was judging from the light bags under her eyes, she hadn't been sleeping properly either. It was obvious Ally had things on her mind. However, he noted there still remained that twinkling, however soft and faint, of magic in her eyes.
Her eyes…
It was her eyes that had first drawn him to her he remembered. These were eyes that had seen dancing babies and unicorns… they were coffee coloured pools that had witnessed a man she had loved die, right in front of her, and another, walk out on her, without even a proper goodbye.
"I thought you were in a deposition," he said, stirring from his thoughts.
"Ah huh huh…" Ally nervously chuckled, gently biting on her knuckle. "Yeah I am. We're taking a five minute break." She motioned towards to conference room, "It's getting pretty, well, intense in there." The lift doors opened, and John and Richard began to enter. "I guess it doesn't help that Larry Paul is the defence attorney," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Larry?" John asked in surprise, stopping the door from closing with his hand. "He's back? Wh-wha-wha-what?" he stuttered. "How?"
"It's a long story, John," Ally sighed, "and not even one I am certain about." John looked at her with concerned eyes. "Don't worry," she replied, putting on a happy face, "I'll tell you about it later okay? You'll be at the bar tonight?" John nodded, as he let the door close. "Good I'll see you then." Sighing, she leant against the wall before turning back and heading for the conference room.
*****
"It's not like I was unfaithful to you, Claire, dammit!" Mr. Henderson yelled, beginning to lose his cool. His usually quiet demeanor was immediately lost when defending his right to see his daughter.
"Don't shout in front of our daughter," Mrs. Henderson spat back, pointing an accusing finger at her ex-husband.
"Mrs. Henderson," Larry politely, yet seriously asked, "please refrain from directing comments at my client."
"Oh oh…" Ally irately reacted, "can you please make sure that *your* client doesn't pass comments directly to *my* client."
"Very well," he replied, complacently, leaning in his chair, "Mine will if yours will."
"Yeah, well, *mine* will if *yours* will," she stubbornly stated, staring him straight in the eye, refusing to back down from the argument.
"Fine," Larry replied, unemotionally.
"Fine," she retorted coldly, folding her arms.
"Okay," Corretta intervened, stopping the two before they could continue. "Now that we have got that settled, can we get back to the case?"
"Fine!" Ally and Larry repeated in unison, the prior refusing to look at the latter.
"Good," Corretta sighed, shaking her head. She didn't even want to imagine what the two be like later on in court, when already they seemed to be each other's throat at the deposition. "Mr. Henderson," she asked, turning her attention to the man, "so you don't deny leaving your family…"
"Of course not," he replied, "but that doesn't make me an unfit father--"
"--Like hell it doesn't!" Mrs. Henderson interrupted, shouting. This triggered off another episode of fighting and arguing between the two parties.
Ally and Corretta both tried to intercede with little success and eventually the two of them were drawn into the insult-ridden crossfire, giving just as much verbal abuse as they were getting. Larry, who was sitting calmly as ever, watching the argument unfold, was about to intervene, but his attention was drawn to the person sitting at the end of the table.
Annabelle, the Henderson's daughter had been quiet during the entire deposition, not uttering more than a few token syllables. She now had her head in her hand, leaning her elbow against the table, staring out the window, as if oblivious to dispute taking place in the very room she was in.
Larry raised his eyebrows. "AHEM!" loudly clearing his throat, he gained the attention of all those in the room. "Mr. Henderson, Mrs. Henderson," he looked at the couple, "would it be alright if I could have a few minutes alone with Annabelle?" The parents gave Larry a dubious look, prompting him to explain, "Since her opinion is going to be used by both sides as evidence in support of and against this case, it would be a good idea if I can get a statement or two from your daughter." He let out a small grin form on the edge of his mouth, "And I can't do that with the two of you in here, fighting with each other now can I?"
"Okay," Mr. Henderson replied, trusting his lawyer's decision.
Mrs. Henderson looked at her daughter and then towards her attorneys, as if asking for advice.
"I--I can stay in the room, while Mr. Paul talks to… to Annabelle if you want." Ally offered, perhaps a little too eagerly. "I mean," she restated, this time more subtle, trying to put her client's mind at ease, "it… it would help us with our case too if I could spend time with Annabelle, gathering, um, evidence."
Mrs. Henderson contemplated the situation for a moment before nodding her head in agreement. As Corretta led the parents to wait outside, Elaine walked in nosily eyeing the situation.
"Yes?" Ally asked, not liking the flirtatious look her assistant was giving Larry.
"Vincent called," Elaine replied, not taking her attention away from the man in front of her. "He said that he'll pick you up here at around six something."
"Oh, okay," Ally replied, glancing at Larry from the corner of her eyes, wondering if he was listening on the conversation. He wasn't. His concentration seemed to be fully focused on writing something down in his file. "Thank you Elaine," she said, realizing Elaine had seen her look at Larry.
"Okay," the assistant cheekily grinned. "Bye Larry," Elaine cooed, as she walked away.
"Huh?" Larry looked up from his file, "Oh, bye Elaine. See ya."
"You bet you will," she teasingly replied.
*****
The lift doors began to close, as Mark ran to catch it, intending to go up to his office. "Hold the door!" he shouted, hoping someone inside would hear him. The doors opened, and he entered, panting slightly from the sprint. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Mark looked and saw it was Jackson, the very last person he had wanted to see, who had kept the doors from shutting. "Jackson." he greeted, pressing the button again, hoping they would reach Cage & Fish sooner. Even though there was only the two of them in the lift, Mark felt uneasy being in such close proximity with the man who was going to try his best to make him sing, dressed as a woman on New Year's Eve.
Mark's reaction was not lost on the lawyer. Jackson smiled, gently swaying to and fro. "So…"
"Yes?" Mark asked.
"I was just wondering," Jackson said, leaning against the wall, "whether you had any… clients yet?"
"Actually," Mark replied, proudly turning to face the man, "I do." He smugly smiled knowing that Jackson would be surprised. "A really rich client too," he added, waiting for Jackson's stunned reaction.
It didn't happen.
"Is that so?" Jackson replied in a dead calm tone. Rubbing his chin, his stared at Mark, causing him to gulp nervously. "Really? And how did you come about this 'really rich client'?" he asked, using Mark's words.
"Um…" Mark didn't like the sound of where this conversation was going. "Nelle handed it over to me because she said she didn't have time to take the case."
"I see," Jackson replied, removing a piece of lint from his jacket. "And what was the name of your client again?"
Mark hesitated; weary of his coworker's intentions. Slowly he said the name, "Sam Gol--"
"--Goldstein," Jackson interrupted, much to the other's surprise.
"How did you know?"
Jackson suddenly became very animated. "Have you met your client yet?" he asked, ignoring the question.
"No," Mark guiltily admitted. "I am seeing the client tomorrow."
Putting a hand to his chest, Jackson let out a loud laugh, which continued for several seconds, much to Mark's unease. Finally stopping, Jackson wiped away the imaginary tears from his eyes. "Seriously, do you even know what the case is about?" he asked, on the verge of laughing again.
"Well..." Mark looked at the floor downcast. In truth he had only glanced at the file Nelle had given him. Bad practice he admitted, but his joy in actually being assigned a potentially profitable case had temporarily clouded his professional routine. Having Jackson suddenly corner him so unusually sent a shiver down his spin. With hesitant and anxious eyes, he weakly asked, "Why?"
It was enough of a response to set Jackson off with another fit of laughter.
*****
In the entrance of Cage & Fish a loud sound echoed out from the lift, almost causing the walls to shake. It was startling enough to cause people in the room to stop what they were doing and stare in the direction of the source of the noise. Whispers filled the office, as people stated what they thought it was. Some said it sounded like a huge bear with its foot caught in trap. Other's compared it to a Banshee haunting the elevator shaft.
The noise came from one of the two people standing in the lift.
And it wasn't Jackson.
"WWWWWHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"
*****
Ally's concentration was broken when she heard the strange noise coming from beyond the conference room, outside in the main office area. It was too muffled for her to make out what it exactly was, so shaking her head, she confidently dismissed it as nothing of importance. Picking up her pen, she turned her attention back to the problem at hand.
"Sometimes I think a potato would be more talkative," Larry joked, referring to Annabelle's lack of response.
For the past ten minutes, separately and together Ally and Larry had tried to get the Henderson's daughter to open up them and answer their questions. Both had failed -- miserably. Now silence filled the room, as neither knew what else to say or do. Ally was sitting by the window and Larry was sitting across the table from Annabelle, his hand on his chin. Both were quietly watching the girl.
Annabelle Henderson was slouched in her chair, her arms crossed, refusing to look anywhere but her lap. Her long brown hair was messily tied back and fringe covered her forehead so that her eyes could barely be seen. Dressed in jeans and a baggy sweater, she looked the typical child entering into her rebellious teenage years. Yet, she held a serious and intense expression on her face for someone so young. It was a look that reminded Larry of himself.
Eventually, Larry good-naturedly began, "Look, Anna --do you mind if I call you that?-- If you don't cooperate here it isn't going to make the situation any easier."
He received no response.
"Annabelle, Larry--I mean Mr. Paul," Ally tried to support Larry's attempt to get Annabelle to confide in them, "he's right you know."
"We just want to help," Larry sympathetically justified. He looked at Ally, and for a moment, together they shared a glance.
"Yeah right," Annabelle sullenly replied, causing the lawyers to stare at her in surprise.
"`Beg your pardon?" Larry quickly asked, turning his attention to the girl.
"You expect me to trust *you*?" She spoke slowly with a cynical tone of voice. Looking Larry in the eyes, she leant over the table, clearly punctuating every word she said. "You want me to trust you, a lawyer, and fore mostly a guy wearing a *pink* shirt?" She looked at Larry as if he were some old-fashioned bore stuck in outdated fashion hell. "--What is *with* that anyway?" she retorted, rolling her eyes, as she leaned back in her seat.
"Well," Larry faked a smile. Unimpressed, he removed his glasses and began rubbing them with his tie, "It's good to know that a potato isn't more talkative after all."
Ally giggled, causing Annabelle to turn her attention to her mother's lawyer. "And you," she bluntly stated, "Miss I-think-I-am-so-attractive-with-my-short-skirts-and-two-thousand-dollar-outfits-… *don't* even get me *started* about you."
It was Larry's turn to laugh now. "On second thoughts," he grinned, putting his glasses on, "I like her -- she's got spunk."
"W-w-wait a moment," Ally began, walking over to Annabelle. "Okay, it's all well and good to not like the way we look," Ally cringed, "or dress. But as lawyers it is our jobs to represent our clients to the best of our ability. Now… now, we can't do that unless you trust us."
Annabelle didn't respond, instead choosing to stare at her lap again. For a moment Ally thought that she had gotten through to her.
"Like I said," the girl finally responded, "you expect me trust the two of you?" Her tone was like ice. "You expect *me* to trust the two people who are assisting in the tearing a part of *my* family -- of *my* life?"
"Annabelle," Ally interjected, surprised at the girl's words, "we don't mean to destroy anything. We simply want what's best…"
"--for everyone." Annabelle looked up, tears in her eyes. "Do you know how often I've heard my parents tell me that?" She let out an empty chuckle and sniffed. "You don't know what it is like to have your parents fighting like they do." Her tone softened as she continued. "I remember the events leading up to dad leaving. They suddenly started arguing for no apparent reason one day and they didn't stop. They didn't think I heard them, but I did. And then dad left." She paused, recollecting the past. Ally and Larry were motionless, intently listening to her words. "It was so quiet after that. Mum… she pretended like nothing was wrong, but I could tell she was really hurting, y'know? Then out of the blue, he came back. I don't what was worse, him leaving, or him returning. They started fighting again and then all of this happened." She sniffed again, wiping away the tears. "My grandma says I should be happy that both of my parents love me so much that they don't want to live without me. But she doesn't understand… nobody does… All they ever do is fight when I see them together. When I'm around them I feel like I don't even exist. You don't know what it is like to be alone."
Ally and Larry stared at each other, wondering how to react to crying girl sitting before them. She had gone through the bitter divorce of her parents. It was much more than any child her age, or any child at all for that matter, should had to have experienced.
Slowly, Ally knelt on the floor, so she was at eye level with Annabelle. Gently she reached for her arms and began to speak, "You know, you're right I don't know what it is like see my parents get divorced." The girl looked at the lawyer, still gently sobbing. "But, unfortunately, I do know what it is like to be alone." Ally weakly smiled, "And do you know what I do when I feel that way?"
Annabelle shook her head, "What?"
"I," Ally's smile widened, "I turn to my friends and tell them my problems. And just having them there for me, listening, helps." Annabelle had stopped crying, listening to what Ally was saying. "Annabelle," she softly, yet cheerfully, whispered, reaching into her jacket pocket, "how would like me to give you my card, with my telephone, address and everything?" She pulled out a card and presented it to the girl, " That way, if you ever feel alone, you can give me call. I can't promise I'll have all the answers, but I can promise that I'll always be there for you if you want to talk, okay?"
Hesitantly, Annabelle reached for the card in the lawyer's hand. "Thank you," she whispered.
*****
"NELLE!" Mark angrily stormed into her office. She was on the phone, intently scribbling something down on a notepad. "Nelle!" He firmly spoke, "We need to--"
She quickly raised her hand, not looking up from her desk, brining him to a halt. Listening to person on the other line, she nodded her head, "Uh huh… okay… great… yes thank you… bye." Hanging up the phone she put her pen down and turned her attention to Mark who was impatiently waiting. "Hi Mark," she placidly replied. "How can I help you?"
He took a breath before beginning, regaining his composure to the best of his ability. "You never told me what this case you're giving me was about."
"Yes I did," she answered, playing with one of her long tresses of hair. She had worn it down today, although it was clipped back with a black clasp to keep it from freely flowing. "Our client is suing his ex wife for damages…"
"Yes, but you didn't tell me…" he paused, beginning to become flustered. "… why… You didn't… tell me he was a man…"
"…From a less than wealthy background?" Nelle asked, trying to figure out what Mark was trying to get at.
"…That *he*," Mark replied with clenched teeth, "was actually a gigolo…" He began to pace around the room. "And not just any gigolo," he continued, "the notorious Don Juan of gigolos no less…"
"I think the term is male escort," Nelle politically corrected.
"Thanks Nelle," he sarcastically said, slumping down on a chair. "The whole of Boston knows about him…"
"Well you know," she stood up as she picked up a file from her desk. Walking over towards her filing cabinet, she continued, "I thought the reason you would have wanted this case was because of its high profile." She looked at him, as she opened the drawer, putting away the folder. "Heaven knows you could do with winning a big case before Richard fires you," she muttered under her breath. Mark stared her, leading her to add, "I mean this case has been in the papers--"
"I know!" Mark bitterly snapped. He sighed, putting a hand over his eyes, "Look, I just think you should just phone your client and explain…"
"My client?" Nelle coolly asked. "No Mark, he is your client now. And before you even think about dropping this case, do you realize that he is already coming in to see you tomorrow? It's all arranged. You know what backing down could do to this firm's reputation?"
"Oh, you mean the reputation that involves one lawyer who has had hallucinations of Barry Manilow, another one who has dated a woman with a penis, one partner who 'poops' and 'Poughkeepsies' everything, and another who is a sexist male chauvinist?" Mark replied, deadpanned.
Nelle paused, considering his words. "Okay. Fine," she said, throwing her hands up in the air, as she returned to her chair. "But think about this," she seriously declared, whispering "between you and me, we both know that with Richard's excessive mood swings, you're not going to be staying with this firm much longer if you don't start bringing in the money. And as for this bet with Jackson--"
"--How did you know?" Mark defensively retorted.
"You think someone like Elaine is going to keep something like that a secret?" Noting Mark's blank expression she frankly announced, "She has a pool going in the office to see which one of you is going to win. At the moment, the odds are against you, Mark. Ninety-nine people to one."
"Who's the one?" Mark despondently asked.
"Richard," Nelle replied.
Mark suddenly looked hopeful. "Really?
"Yes." She explained, "But only because he said his inner gambler likes to back to the underdog -- no matter how bad, pathetic and pitiable they really are." Her cold tone rubbed salt into the wound. "The way I see it, Mark," Nelle bluntly explained, "if you don't take this case, by New Year's you'll be dressed as a woman, singing alone AND unemployed."
*****
To be continued…