Chapter Thirty: Bliss

Alex

My first day back on the job I'm in the courtroom taking care of your harassment charge. I can't say I'm surprised to see Trevor at the other table, smiling smugly at me across the room, but his amusement is short-lived as it's dismissed with a reprimand for wasting the court's time. I gather my papers, tucking the two large file folders of testimony defending you back into my briefcase. You lean over the railing and whisper a thank you, reminding me that I need to pick up dinner, as the stove is still non-functional. I nod and squeeze your hand with my fingers. I watch you walk out of the courtroom, tilting my head at the rhythm of your footsteps. I can't help the smile that plays over my lips.

I hear a familiar voice behind me and I try not to groan.

"Alex-- Congratulations."

I turn slowly to meet the eyes of a man I despise. "What do you want Trevor?"

"I just thought I should remind you that the restraining order against your detective still stands, even though you've managed to weasel out of the harassment suit."

"Interesting choice of words counselor, considering the only weasel I can see around here is wearing a cheap suit and carrying his father's briefcase."

"Fiesty, feisty Alexandra; first day back and already swinging for the fences. But then again you always were the spirited one in your family."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Not a thing. I just thought I'd ask how your mother likes her new legal counsel?"

My surprise must have registered on my face as Trevor smirks.

"Hadn't you heard? Your girlfriend convinced her to fire me, and by extension, my father's entire firm. She's hired some high finance lawyer with government connections. It seems she decided to come clean, as it were."

I look around at the now empty courtroom as I feel my gaze harden, my jaw tightening. "I thought you said she wasn't involved in anything illegal Trevor."

"Actually, I believe my exact words were that anything untoward that's mixed up in your mother's business is just that-- your mother's business. Especially now that she's chosen new counsel."

"You don't know what you're talking about Trevor, and I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut." I spin on my heel, snatching my briefcase from the table and heading quickly towards the door of the courtroom. Trevor's voice calls to me as I begin to push into the corridor,

"You should talk to your mother Alex, make sure she's not making a mistake. She's welcome to resolicit the firm, but the offer won't last forever. Things could get ugly, and that fancy financial lawyer may not be able to protect her the way we have."

I whip around to face him as he sidles up beside me. "Stay the hell away from my mother Trevor. I believe we've been down this road before."

His hand is on my wrist, pulling me close to whisper in my ear, "Yes, but if you recall, the last time you threatened me you actually had something to report. Remember those two little words, Alex? I have three of my own for you. Statute of Limitations."

I wrench my wrist from his grasp and shoot him a murderous look, "Stay the fuck away from me Trevor, I mean it." I storm out of the room, hoping Trevor reads my stride for anger, and not the fear I'm actually harboring.

Olivia

I hear you tapping at the door with your foot and I jump from my spot behind the pulled out stove to open the door for you, your arms full and your face set in a hard line. I grab the bags from your hands and talk as I move into the kitchen.

"What happened? You look angry."

"I'm not angry, Olivia. Everything is fine."

Liar, you really think I can't read you better than that? Aside from being a detective I'm your partner, and I know when something's wrong. My first guess is that is has to do with that sleaze Trevor Langan.

"What did he say to you?"

You drop the last two bags on the counter and pitch your briefcase by the door to the office. You move to take plates off a shelf and place them noisily on the counter. I stop unpacking the grocery bags and turn to look at you.

"Alex, what did he say?"

"Did you convince my mother to fire Trevor's firm?"

Shit. I meant to talk to you about all of this earlier but we've been so busy sorting out our new co-habitation that it slipped my mind. "Get some food and sit down Alex, we need to talk."

You move to the table without taking a plate, and I fall behind, sorting out your favorites from the Cho's boxes on the counter. I carry two plates to the table, setting one in front of you next to the mug of coffee I had waiting when you came home, and setting the other at my place with a bottle of water. Your chopsticks stay still on the table, and I poke at my own food, feeling your eyes watching me.

"What's going on Olivia? What haven't you told me about mom's business? It's clearly something big enough that Trevor's willing to threaten me with it. What are you keeping from me?"

I sigh and shove my plate away, so much for dinner. "Evidently your father got some bad advice from Joshua Langan. Between the two of them they got involved in some rather questionable investments. By the time your mother got hold of the companies they were over the borderlines of legality. When your father died, his investments were temporarily in the care of Trevor's father and his firm.

"About three months after your father died, your mother decided she was ready to take over the holdings, and she asked Joshua to teach her all the workings of the companies, and he told her everything she needed to know about every company, every board, every trust except for one. I still don't understand all of the information I have about it, and the truth is I don't want to know. And neither do you. Alex, I don't want you mixed up in this."

"She's my mother Liv, I deserve to know what's going on."

"When I got back from Oregon and went to dinner with her I took all the information I had and used it to convince her to leave you alone. Even though I didn't really understand it all I figured it was bad enough to keep her away, and I was right. Elliot gave me the number of an old college friend who works in the department of finance, who also happens to be a lawyer.

"After Christmas she spent a good deal of my visit telling me about the mess she was in. She wants to let go of the company involved but selling it would raise too many questions. I gave her the name of Elliot's lawyer friend, and encouraged her to give him a call. Last week she called and said he'd agreed to take on her case. They had their first meeting last week and he thinks he can clean it up without her having any real legal issues. She may have to stand in court and defend some of her choices, but the lawyer thinks he can fight any charges that may end up being filed."

"Charges? They're going to file charges against my mother?" Panic flashes across your face and I move from my place at the table to sit by your side.

"Alex, it's going to be fine. I promise."

"Why didn't you tell me Olivia? I had to hear it from Trevor Langan of all people. You should have heard the things he said to me today."

Damn that idiot. "Alex, there's nothing you can do. Let this lawyer do his job. Your mom trusts him, so should you."

"Yes but clearly my mother's judgment about these things isn't the best. Look at the Langans. She's trusted them since before daddy died and look at the trouble they've gotten her into. No, I want to meet this guy. And I want to know exactly what's going on."

"Alex." My tone is warning but I know you won't listen.

"No. Don't talk me out of this Olivia. Call this lawyer, I want some answers."

"If I set up a meeting do you promise to listen to what he has to say and then follow whatever advice he has to give?"

You nod, and I see that glint in your eyes.

"Alex-- I want you to promise to follow it even if you don't agree with him."

You narrow your eyes at me, not liking the conditions of this contract. You can see it's the only choice you have though, so you agree reluctantly. I pick up the phone and call Henry, making an appointment to see him on Friday afternoon after work. When I hang up the phone I turn back to see you watching me, and I notice that once again you look afraid. For all of your posturing and demands, you're worried about what this could mean for your family. After all we've only just gotten back in your mother's good graces, and I can understand how frightened you are of losing it all because of something I know you'll think should have been preventable.

I move back to the table, standing behind you chair as I place my hands on your shoulders, moving slowly to work away the tension there. You raise a hand to place it over mine and tilt your head back to look at me above you,

"It's going to be ok, right? You promise?"

"I swear. Everything is going to be fine, you'll see."

You nod, and pull my hand to your lips. I can see you battling to believe me, scared but wanting to believe me, to believe that everything is going to be all right. I hope I haven't lied to you, and that Henry Wellton is as good as Elliot says.

Alex

In your arms at night I try to sleep. For the second night in a row I fail. I gently shift your body next to me, lifting myself out of your embrace and padding softly into the living room. I've tried not to think about my mother's troubles, tried to convince myself that you're right, that everything is going to be fine. But inside me ticks a lawyer's brain, and all I can see are problems without solutions. I've managed to avoid further run-ins with Trevor, but just barely. On Monday trial starts on the Belmet case, and thanks to some finessing by Munch and Fin, both of the remaining two daughters have agreed to testify against their stepfather, and the mother has giving up trying to defend him. She called my office today to set up a meeting, which went well. She'll be valuable witness, especially since Trevor was unable to toss her testimony from trial. In Petrovsky's office he shot me scathing looks, and I ignored him, choosing instead to focus on bringing Petrovsky around. He was too busy trying to best me to care that much about his case, and I got permission to allow Lane's testimony against her husband, a tricky issue.

Tomorrow we meet with this Henry Wellton, and I'm nervous about what he has to tell us. Mother's given him permission to share the details, although she wasn't happy about it-- her instinct the same as yours-- to keep me out of it. Both of you know me too well to try and convince me otherwise though, and so tomorrow I'll finally know exactly what trouble Langan and his father have gotten us into.

I perch on the couch, mimicking your favorite pose with my too-long legs tucked up awkwardly beneath my body, comfortable for a little while as I stare out the large window at the city that's never quiet, never dark. It's almost funny, this transformation in my little family. A year ago I would have sworn I'd never be speaking to my mother again, much less worrying about her legal situation. You told me when I was getting ready to move that it was the photograph that did it, that seeing me so happy broke the ice, melted that hard spot inside her and showed her all the wonder you've brought into my life. I believe it, but I can't help but wondering if maybe the timing was just right. She would never ask my help with this, didn't even tell me she was in trouble, but maybe the threat of this mess made her realize that I'm really the only family left now. Her own sister and brothers are dead, and dad's brother Bill is hardly the one to call in times like this. He'd be far more inclined to turn the whole mess over to the stiffs at the finance department regardless of the consequences for mother personally.

I shift in the soft sofa, drawing my knees up to my chest and hugging my legs with my arms, resting my chin on my knees. You've told me not to worry, and I'm trying… but I feel out of my league, unprepared. After I was shot I finally realized the real perils of my job, realized that I wasn't immune to the dirt of my job, to the hazards. I've accepted that you and I lead potentially dangerous lives, you especially. I don't like it, but I've accepted the fact that there are certain risks inherent in your job. But my mother… my mother should be above such worries. I've never worried about her the way I worry about you. And even now it's a different kind of worry. I don't fret that someone will gun her down in the street, I'm not worried about her getting worked over by some overenthusiastic perp. But to my mother, financial ruin would be akin to a shot in the gut. It might not kill her, but the recovery would be devastating.

My vision grows bleary with sleep and anxiety and I start as I feel a blanket draping my shoulders. I should have known I couldn't escape your attention for long. You sleep about as well without me as I do without you.

Olivia

I wake to an empty space where your body should be, my arm at an awkward angle across your pillow. I move out of the bedroom, grabbing the blanket I know you'll need and cross through the small hallway to the living room, not surprised to see you nodding off with your head on your knees on the sofa, facing our plate-glass view of the city. I drape the blanket over your shoulders and see you jump.

"You should come back to bed. Worrying isn't going to solve anything, and by the time today is done you'll have more information than you could possibly want."

You nod, and reach out an arm to pull me into the sofa next to you. I sit and gather you into my arms, pulling your body into my lap, your head on my shoulder still looking out at the city. I stroke idly at your hair, wishing I could wave a magic wand and make it all just go away. I can't help feeling like our bad luck comes in turns, and I wish we could put more distance between your problems and mine. No sooner is my harassment issue put to rest than Trevor hauls you into something you shouldn't even know about.

You sigh in my arms, and I look down to see you watching me. My lips meet gently at your forehead as my hand sweeps the hair from your face.

"Come back to bed Alex. You need to sleep, and there's plenty of time to worry tomorrow."

You shake your head, and I sigh in exasperation. "You can't do any more about it tonight than you could last night. Come to bed."

"I can't. Just… stay with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere Alex."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

We fall silent, our faces turned again to the city. You whisper something I don't quite catch, and when I ask you to repeat it you turn back to me and I see tears building in your eyes.

"Don't ever leave me, ok?"

"What's going on in that head of yours Lexi?"

"Just promise me Olivia. Promise me you'll never leave me."

As if I ever could. "I promise I will never leave you."

"What if they charge her?"

"Then we'll fight it."

"What if we lose?"

I don't know how to answer you, don't know how to reassure you.

"I just got her back Olivia. I just got my mother back after almost ten years of pain and blame and wasted time. I'm not ready to lose her again."

"You won't."

"What if I do?"

"Alex, you can't live your life in what-if's. You told me that once remember?" You said it as you were leaving me once, in anger, in frustration. But the words are still true even with a different tone, truer probably.

"Tomorrow we'll know better what we're dealing with. Tonight you need to sleep."

"I can't."

I stop to think, trying to find a way to soothe you back to the rest you need. Seeing your briefcase outside the door to the office I have an idea. I wanted to show it to you when you first got back but we were…. busy. It's sure to cheer you up at least a little, and now's as good a time as any. I shift in the sofa, pulling myself upright, and pulling you up with me as I stand.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you a present."

I walk you over to the door of the office, and place a hand over your eyes as I turn the handle. I walk you inside and close the door behind us. Flipping on the switch I take away my hand and tell you to open your eyes.

Alex

I'm not really in the mood for surprises, but I play along, knowing you need to feel like you're helping. I let you cover my eyes and lead me across the room. I close my eyes beneath your hand and hear a door open, feel you shuffle me inside a room, and hear the door closing behind us. Behind my closed lids I sense a change in the lighting, then feel your hand leave my face. I open my eyes and find myself standing in my new office. It takes me a minute to recognize the scene before me, and when I do it takes my breath away.

"Liv… it's… I mean… wow." I turn in a circle, following a hand painted coastline to where it meets a lush green forest. I move to the door behind us, it too is part of this incredible mural of a place I've left behind. It must have cost you a fortune to have this painted.

"Who did this? They deserve an award of some kind."

You blush, and I realize it's your handiwork.

"Olivia, you painted this? How did you do this? How did I not know you could paint like this?"

Your blush deepens, embarrassed at my praise. I move slowly around the room, taking in the incredible detail, feeling almost as though I was back on the coast, back in the woods, back in a place I did grow to love, in a place I do miss every now and then.

"Where did you learn to paint like this? It's unbelievable."

You shrug, "I took a class when I was in college. It's not a big deal. You should have seen the ones I painted over before I got done."

I'm shocked, awed by this new talent I've never even suspected. I trace a finger over the shoreline on the window wall, convinced I can hear the surf, even against the backdrop of the New York night out the window. There's an amazing blonde wood desk perpendicular to the side wall, waiting for my computer setup. It's positioned to face the window, and every aspect of the room is designed to make working simple and effortless. Matching cabinetry is mounted against the wall behind the desk, and the mural encompasses the drawers and doors, the light wood almost a perfect match to the color of sandy paint. I look down to see that the wood floors have been sanded to a pale wood and left unstained. Even here the detail is amazing, as you painted shading around the baseboards, carrying over the intricate sandy detail even onto the edges of the wooden floor.

I move from my study to face you. You haven't moved from the center of the room, and there's still a flush of humility on your cheeks as I lean into your arms.

"Do you like it?"

"Are you kidding? Olivia it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I still can't believe you did all of this. This is more than a college class. This is the work of someone who's spent their life painting. Where did you learn to do this? And why didn't I know that you could?"

Olivia

I knew you'd be surprised, but I didn't expect you to ask twenty questions. I'm embarrassed by this attention, shy about this 'gift.' You lean into my arms, your back against me as we both look at the room I've made for you to work in.

"The truth is painting classes were mom's response to my wall-art. Which is sort of funny given this room. When I was about four I started coloring all the time. If you put down a piece of paper, I'd draw on it, pull out my crayons. It didn't matter if it was construction paper or the phone bill-- if you left it unattended I attacked.

"After awhile I got tired of the small stuff and I realized that my whole house was just one big blank piece of paper. Mom came home one night and found me drawing on the walls in her bedroom. I'd already filled up as far as I could reach through the rest of the house. She was livid. But once she sobered up she hired painters and enrolled me in a kiddie art class at the civic center near our place.

"When I got too old for that class she found another one. It's one of the few things she did right in between drinks. I took art classes all through high school, I even thought about majoring in it in college, but by then the academy had caught my eye and I decided to shoot for being a cop instead."

"So you just stopped painting?"

"I didn't really have time for it. I did some after you left though. I needed something to keep me from climbing the walls without you. That painting over the desk in the bedroom? I did that one, and there's one in the guest room too. When I saw this place I thought this room would be perfect for a mural. I wanted you to have a piece of Oregon here. I know your home is here, but any idiot can see that you loved it there too. I wanted you to have a place where you could feel like you were still there."

"It must have taken forever." You turn in my arms, facing me with a smile. I'm glad to see you've lost some of the tension from you face and some of the anxiety is gone from your eyes. I feel oddly satisfied that such a small gesture can ease the worry that had so gripped you only minutes ago.

"So you like it?"

You nod, kissing me gently. "I love it. And I love you. How did you do that? I was so stressed out, and so worried and all of a sudden I feel like maybe things will be ok." You lean against me, your lips a breath from my ear, "Are you sure you're not magic?"

I feel a comfortable warmth filling me, that sense of your nearness making me whole. The truth be told, you're the one with all the magic. I finally pull you back to bed and you settle contentedly into my body's curve. I wait until I see your eyes droop heavily with sleep, wanting to be sure you rest despite your lingering worries. When I feel your body grow heavy next to me, your breathing deep and regular I allow my own exhaustion to wash over me. I close my eyes and whisper, "I love you," before my world turns black and I'm overcome by the delicious sleep that only comes of being close to you.

Alex

I've spent the day in court, fighting motions from various defense attorneys, and I can tell Petrovsky is getting tired of seeing me. Two discussions in chambers for separate cases, and three actual appearances in court before her have her eyes crossing at the sight of me in the hallway. They've all been blissfully short, but I'm as tired of her as she is of me, and I'm incredibly grateful to see the clock hit five. I gather my briefcase and some papers to work through at home and look up to see you standing in my doorway.

"Ready to go?"

"Yup." I move to lock my office behind me and you wrap your arms around my waist, a bold display of affection from you in such a public place and I know you're trying to reassure me before we go to see mother's lawyer. I turn to accept a kiss and you walk closely by my side, our hands brushing together as we head to my car in the garage. You take the keys I offer and as the doors close behind us you start the engine, then reach for my hand. We ride in silence, leaving the garage and squinting against the fading light as we head towards Wellton's office. You extract your hand from my grasp to flip on your turn signal, then let it rest on my knee and I try to let the weight of it settle my nerves.

"How was your day?" Your voice is loud in the stillness of our previous silence and I don't answer right away.

"Long. Busy. Ended up in front of Petrovsky about five times."

"How did that happen?"

"Some scheduling glitch in her docket. She saw me in the hallway at the end of the day and practically ran in the opposite direction, robes flying."

You chuckle at the image, and turn into the parking structure at the overlarge gray financial building. When we've parked you stretch out of the car and stick the keys in your pocket. I undo my belt but stay stuck in my seat, suddenly unsure if I really do want to know what's going on. The door swings open and your hand appears inside the car, open and waiting. I take a deep breath, then grab your outstretched hand in mine and let you pull me from the car and into your arms.

"It's going to be fine Alex."

You sound so sure. How do you sound so sure? I search your eyes for traces of doubt, looking for the slightest hint of anxiety but there's nothing to see but your warm chocolate circles looking at me that way you do when I'm worried for no reason. I pull my strength from you and let you lead me into the building. Another deep breath outside the office door and I'm ready… mostly. You squeeze my hand and step inside with me, informing Wellton's secretary of our appointment.

Olivia

An hour after we enter Henry's office we're headed back to the car, and your face is filled with pure relief. Even I was impressed with Henry's competence and forthright manner. He had good news to give us, and while in the office he called your mother on speaker so we could all hear it at the same time. The look on your face at the news means Trevor's in for some serious personal payback, but I'm pretty sure it means I might get lucky tonight. I banish the thought from my mind and turn my thoughts back to the well-resolved conflict. The government made your mother a fabulous deal. She turns the company over for a complete audit by the IRS and other involved enforcement agencies and in return she is immune from all potential prosecution thereafter. She may have to testify against Trevor Langan's father, but I don't think that will be a big problem for her. Especially not after discovering just how involved Joshua was in turning the company dirty in the first place.

The worst-case scenario is that Joshua and Trevor and their firm get off scott free but your mother remains out of the line of fire. Henry's convinced that at the very least Joshua is going to have quite a lot to answer for to the IRS and a few other interested agencies, and although Trevor will probably escape relatively unscathed, the Langan and Langan firm is most likely going to suffer a rather severe hit to their credibility. The thought of clients fleeing Trevor's particularly sleazy brand of lawyering makes you almost giddy, and even I can't help but smile at the thought of Trevor out on his ass. I'd kill to be there when the IRS shows up at his office. Because of the firm's previous involvement in the company in question, the Revenue Service has decided to audit the entire office, just to be safe.

We drive out to Long Island to Cabot Castle to celebrate. It'll be the first dinner we have as a family unit of sorts, and as excited as I am I can't help but be a little nervous. It must show because you look at me as I change lanes, and reach to place your hand on my knee in a mirror of my earlier quiet comfort to you.

"Everything is different now Livvy. You said so yourself. From here on out all we have to worry about is where to have the wedding."

I reach to pat your hand, feeling the cool metal of your engagement ring against my skin. A smile creeps past my waning anxiety and I feel myself catching your excitement. It's the first time we'll actually be able to sit down and talk about real plans for our wedding, not just together but with your mother and I know you're beyond happy that she's going to be a part of this.

Years ago, you told me that there was magic in the world, that it was possible to find a happiness so divine it could only be called bliss. I was cynical and jaded and I didn't believe you then. Since those days though, you've died and resurrected, you've left and returned, you've lost and found your family, and now we're here, together where we belong.

Who knows? Maybe you're right. Maybe there is magic in the world. Maybe it is possible to find Bliss. After all-- I have.