Title: Composure
Author: Mercaque
Summary: A continuation of the scene in Huang's office in "Manic." "Manic," to refresh your memory, was the episode in which a 13-year-old boy shot two of his classmates, after which it was discovered the SSRI Aptril might have contributed to a psychotic episode.
Pairing: AG
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them for a little fun.
COMPOSURE
"That's justice." Huang's voice was quiet, even – but firm.
Even across the sturdy, paper-strewn desk, Alex Cabot's lawyerly mind instantly sensed the dark-haired doctor's simmering resentment. Certainly, his face was as composed and professional as ever – but in his brown eyes lurked an edge of steel, an unspoken anger at the Joe Blaine case.
Cabot hadn't particularly relished admitting Huang was right about the Aptril. Or perhaps it was just Moredock's throwing it in her face that had stung her pride. Either way, she hadn't been looking forward to this trip to Dr. Huang's office. Cabot usually found him a valuable ally and a sensible friend – a voice of reason.
But on this particular case, she'd discovered just how intractable he could be as well.
Huang, however, barely seemed aware of his victory. If anything, he seemed more perturbed by it than she did. He'd recommended pleading the boy out. The prosecutorial part of Cabot's mind railed that it was just a doctor's softhearted pity for his patient. But in her heart, she had to admit that was probably the only humane reaction a person could have to Joe Blaine's situation.
"So, what do you think you'll do?" Huang's voice cut into her thoughts.
Cabot looked up in surprise, mildly embarrassed that she'd been caught staring into space. "Do?"
"Well... yes," he answered.
"I don't know." She sighed heavily, her azure eyes darkening. "I don't think there's any way around pleading him out. But my boss isn't going to like it."
"You speak for the victims," he reminded her gently. "Joe's as much a victim in this as anyone."
"But a victim of who? His mother? The drug?"
"Tauscher-Leto. The Aptril company." Huang's usually gentle features flashed with fury. "If their marketing scheme wasn't illegal, it sure as hell ought to be."
"The prescription was technically legal. It was signed by a doctor..."
"Oh, who cares?" Huang snapped. He slammed his palm on the table and stood up. "That doctor was acting out of greed. He compromised his principles. And two kids are dead because of it, and a third will be screwed up for life. If a doctor's signature somehow makes all that okay, it's an embarrassment to our profession."
"He said he was using their drugs to help uninsured patients," Cabot countered uncertainly, thrown off guard by Huang's sudden outburst.
"And that makes it okay to send out potentially mania-inducing drugs through the MAIL?" Huang replied acidly, leaning over his desk.
Cabot sat back in her chair. She wasn't used to dealing with an angry Huang; the psychiatrist's cool detachment rarely broke. Even when they'd had professional disagreements in the past, he hadn't displayed such heated ire. What the hell did it take to get him so worked up?
And then it hit her. Cabot's eyes narrowed. "You've been asked to sign off on these schemes too, haven't you?"
Huang's lips parted in an almost comical expression of surprise. "As a matter of fact, I get asked rather often."
"How often?" Cabot sensed herself slipping into cross-examination mode, but she couldn't quite control her curiosity.
"I get sales reps in here at least three times a week." A bitter smile closed his mouth. "The rather... unusual nature of my patients ensures that I get offered the chance to hawk nearly every drug that comes down the pike, no matter how well-established it may or may not be."
"You mean, the fact that you evaluate criminals," she clarified.
"Whatever you want to call them," Huang answered carefully. His expression turned sarcastic. "I mean hey, they're bad people, right? So what the hell, why not dump the latest wonder drug on them?" He paced in front of his large office window. "After all, they can't go anywhere. They're usually either in jail or on trial. They're not going to complain when happy pills come their way. And if things go wrong, well, they're usually too occupied otherwise to fight back. Very few 'criminals' have the time or resources to sue a company." He pounded his fist into his hand. "And if doctors complain, suddenly we're a bunch of wishy-washy bleeding hearts. Nobody can stick their neck out for a criminal – it's professional suicide. And nobody wins... except the drug companies, who make a killing getting either the state or HMOs to buy their drug in bulk."
Cabot's eyes widened as she took all that in. "I had no idea."
"Well, not many people do." He pursed his lips. "Quite frankly, I'm surprised they started marketing to 'normal' people as well, but I suppose it had to happen sooner or later."
The blonde ADA was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next question. "Did you ever do it?"
"Absolutely not." His back went ramrod straight; he looked offended that she'd even suggested it. "I won't whore out my medical license so some corporation can turn my patients into guinea pigs."
Cabot stood up, facing him directly. "So this is personal," she realized out loud.
"It's not personal," he protested. "This practice is sick, and it needs to be stopped. I'm not the only doctor in this position, you know."
Cabot nodded. Her gaze wandered to the large office window, studying the city outside as she thought. It briefly crossed her mind that Huang might be playing her – using the case to flog one of his own personal issues. But she pushed the thought away. Huang might've lost a bit of objectivity on this case, but he wasn't lying about his position. And anyway, Cabot realized after a moment's contemplation, it didn't particularly matter what the doctor's motives were. The case against Tauscher-Leto was damning on its own merits.
Huang's anger melted into nervousness as he watched Cabot think. He circled his desk and perched on its front, facing her directly.
"Listen," he said, pushing a hand through his thick black hair. "I'm sorry I messed up your case. I admit I was pretty angry when I contacted Moredock. And maybe... well, maybe these drugs are a pet issue of mine. But I don't think I was completely unjustified. People need to know about this practice, especially when they might be victims of..."
"Doctor," Cabot cut in briskly. She seated herself next to him on the desk, an arch smile animating her elegant lips. "Don't worry about it. I'm pretty sure we can get them for reckless endangerment... at the very least."
A smile of genuine relief broke across Huang's face. He leaned back fractionally, propping up his slender torso with outstretched arms. "Well, if anyone can get them, I know you can."
She chuckled. "Flattery will get you everywhere.""Wherever it gets me," he said softly, eyeing her intently, "you're very kind to listen to me rant."
"Anytime," Cabot replied, surprising herself slightly with the immediacy of her answer. "After all, you listen to people rant for a living."
Huang laughed out loud. "Yes, but I do get paid for it." His eyes darted unconsciously down her body; the realization of how close they were sitting seemed to dawn on him.
"Besides, it's frankly pretty interesting to see what rattles your cage," Cabot said quietly. She noticed his gaze, but did not shrink away. "I don't think I've ever seen you so angry."
He shrugged. His brown eyes met hers, and Cabot saw a rare flash of insecurity. "I hope it wasn't too horrifying."
"Never," she answered. "I don't think it will tarnish your sterling reputation." Cabot put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She felt his warm body tense beneath her fingers, but did not retreat.
Huang laughed self-consciously, wide eyes glued to the hand on his shoulder. "I have to admit," he breathed, "I don't particularly care about reputation right now."
The office went silent as Cabot leaned in and captured his mouth in a swift, decisive kiss.
Huang responded immediately, his mouth pressing eagerly to hers. One hand snaked around her, coming to rest securely in the slender crook of her waist; the other stroked her cheek gently, trailing down her neck, reveling in the soft skin it found. Cabot ran one hand up his slender but firm chest, her long fingers trailing around to lightly rub the nape of his neck.
They broke away for air after a long moment, sharing an appreciative gaze. Huang's elegant fingers found her temple; they rested tenderly there for a moment before stroking her long blonde hair. He leaned in and kissed her again, his arms wrapping firmly around her. Cabot reveled in his tight embrace, in the wet heat of his mouth, in the firm tenderness of his graceful hands caressing her back. She pulled him in impatiently, devouring his lips, long fingers rubbing the inside of his thigh. He moaned softly into her mouth.
As he pulled back, Huang's breathing was ragged, his suit rumpled, his golden skin glowing with a faint sheen of sweat. If his loss of composure had been fascinating before, Cabot reflected, it was positively erotic now. Her skin felt hot, sensitive, alive; her heart pounded in her chest.
Unfortunately, reality beckoned.
"Well, it's a good thing you don't care about reputation," she managed after a breathless moment.
"Why is that?" Mild worry entered his heavy-lidded eyes.
"Because your office door is transparent."
-FIN-
Author's Notes: Apologies for the abrupt ending. You can thank this site's no-smut policy for that ;)
As always, comments and criticism are welcome.