Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, and no profit is made from these stories. (But I do have fun writing them! : )
There she goes again.
She walks out my office door, moving like a train propelled by her convictions. Not to mention a healthy dose of self-confidence. And, I'm sure, a strong desire to kick my ass in court.
Shambala Green.
I guess the first thing her name brings to mind is a strong defense for those who might not have it otherwise. The job of a public defender is often a thankless one, but she gives it everything she's got. I often wonder how many of her clients even realize how lucky they are to have her on their side...
I can't say that I've faced many opponents like her. I don't think I would want to. She's the only one with a combination of intelligence, a strong spirit, a quick tongue, moral convictions, and a competitive streak.
But at this particular moment, I'm not thinking of her talents as an attorney.
Once again, I am left to drown in my desire for her. I am left with broken thoughts and the lingering scent of her perfume. I am left to bang my head against the wall and wonder why I always have to be Ben Stone the professional. I am left thinking that I would give anything to be Jack McCoy, who goes after what he wants and doesn't give a damn.
For now I'll go back to working my cases. Until the next time she shows up here, and these damned thoughts will start all over again like a broken Sinatra record.
As it turns out, facing her in court is the easy part.
finis