Here's chapter two. Thanks to those who have reviewed. I greatly appreciate it...
Chapter Two: My Client
"So, Sesshoumaru... You can have any girl you want. Why won't you take any of them?" He asks. I knew this was a setup, and now I don't think I can hold my secret in. Even though I'm about to answer him, I don't want to.
"Because I only want one." I tell him sloppily.
"One?" He asks.
"One... The perfect one." I tell him, finishing my beer. Perhaps he's realized one thing by now. I DO NOT mix with any form of alcohol.
"What's in this peach folder?" He asks as he picks up the folder. That's the new case I was given a few hours ago. Do I trust him enough to tell him? I don't even remember the name of my client anymore. Something like... Kamoge... I think... Maybe that's not it. As I sit and try to figure out the name of my client, he opens up the folder.
"Ooh. You're going to have a female client, Taisho!" He says. I look at him for a while before I actually take in the words he had just said. I quickly snatch the folder from him then look at it.
"How did I get a female client? I haven't had many female clients before..." I muse. Patrick stares at me for a long time before he shakes his head.
"You haven't? Amazing. I'd think that you requested for women as your clients before. That's what I remember." He says. I stare at him rudely before looking down at the picture. She seems... She seems vaguely familiar.
"No, that's not what I meant. When the state hands off cases to me, I usually end up with men..." I admit. Patrick snatches the folder from me then look at her picture too.
"Higurashi, Kagome." He states. I blink then stare at my beer bottle. Where do I know that name from? Perhaps the beer has made me forget. Yes, that must be it.
"She's hot." He says. I look at him before he shows me the picture again.
"I hadn't really noticed." I tell him dryly. He looks up at me then down at the picture.
"Come on, Sesshoumaru. You and I both know that the first thing you noticed about her was her face. She's pretty!" He remarks. I shake my head.
"First thing I noticed about her was her name. I think I knew her." I tell him. He shakes his head then turns a few pages to read things over.
"You have probably known a million girls, Fluffy. I think she must be special if you remember her name." He says. I glare at him then snatch the file from him to be as rude as I can. Maybe that'll get the hint across to him.
"Don't call me Fluffy, Mr. Roberts." I tell him shortly. I read over her profile for a while, before my words come back to haunt me. 'I just want one...' I smack my head then sigh. I'm NOT going to fall in love with my client. No matter how attractive and innocent she may-- No. BAD Lord Fluff!
I smack myself once more. I get mad at Patrick for calling me Fluffy, when I call myself Lord Fluff. Hey, that kinda has a ring to it...
"Hey, Taisho... Are you okay?" Patrick asks me. I look at him, then I look at my beer bottle. Too bad it's empty. I was starting to like the stuff.
"What do you," I hiccup "mean?" I finish. He looks at me, his gaze telling me that I'm the stupidest person in the world. Am I missing something here?
"You've hit your head twice for NO reason!" He says. I pause then shake my head.
"I didnnn't hit myyy head." I slur. I cover my eyes with both of my hands, trying to manage myself.
"Will you read her file to me?" I ask. I don't think I can read cleary at the moment. And all this after one beer bottle.
"Sure thing, Fluff." He says. I growl at him, but he just laughs. I guess being drunk takes down my intimidating appearance.
"Higurashi was found on the crime scene, shaking the shoulders of the dead victim, Hojo Matomi.A bottle of prescription medicine was next to him. On the bottle were her fingerprints, implying that she tampered with the medicine. That's basically it." He tells me. I nod then slowly let my head rest on the table.
"Take me home. I'm tired and I can't be too drunk tomorrow if I have to meet her." I tell him. Patrick just laughs at me, as if there's something wrong with me. Well, there is. I had one bottle of beer and I'm already fearing a hangover.
"You have a low tolerance, huh?" He asks. I nod my head then he sighs. After we walk to the car, I black out.
The next morning, I wake up with a horrible headache. I grasp it tightly as I sit up. Then I realize that Patrick took off my shirt when he got me into bed. I growl then look at where he discarded it.
"Must be some gay pervert." I mutter to myself. I stand up then slowly make my way to the bathroom. I finish undressing then get in the shower. A nice cold shower is just what I need to relax my body. After getting out, I brush my teeth and my hair. I walk to my closet and pull on a suit slowly.
After taking my time to organize my papers, I glance at my clock. It's ten, and I'm supposed to already be talking to my new client. I doubt she has noticed, but this will ruin the rest of the work for my day!
I go running outside and into my car. I drive to the prison, nearly getting myself traffic tickets along the way. As I'm turning off the car in the prison parking lot, I hit my head on the steering wheel. Why do I care if I'm late for this meeting? I don't have anything else to do today, so what's the rush?
I shake my head then grab the pass from the passenger seat and my briefcase - which had somehow gotten into the backseat. I walk into the building, telling them who I am and why I'm here. One leaves to retrieve my client, while I stare at the desk intently.
"Umm. Mr. Taisho? She's waiting." The guard tells me. I groan then follow him to the room.
"Sorry." I tell him quietly. I walk into the room to see my client, waiting patiently for me. The first thing I notice is the smell of cigarettes on her. Damn. I quit two weeks ago and she smells exactly like what I'm craving. I sit down across from her and shuffle my papers around. I stop and stare at a paper as I recall what I had just seen.
The woman has black hair, which looks well-kept for someone in jail, and brown eyes. She's a human, but she doesn't smell as bad as some humans do. If anything, she smells very pleasant. I mentally scold myself. I'm not going to fall in love with a woman to have her do the same that my gilfriend had done. Then I remember that she'd been blushing when she saw me first.
"Red suits you." I tell her boldly. The instant after saying this, I mentally slap myself. I just finished deciding I wouldn't fall for another woman to avoid the heartache they can cause. And WHAT do I do right after that? I flirt with her. That was smart. It's amazing to ever think that I passed the exam to become a lawyer. It grows eerily quiet, and I can tell she's staring at me. I look up at her, hoping that I look indifferent to the subject. The worst thing I could be doing now is blushing.
"Your blush. It suits you." I tell her again. She instantly covers her face in her hands, as if humiliated by my compliment. The compliment I shouldn't have repeated. I put a paper in front of her along with a pen.
"Okay, sign this." I tell her, trying to avoid looking at her. The less I look into her beautiful eyes, the easier it will be for me to get over this five-second crush of mine. I hope. She signs the paper then sets her hands below the table - I assume they're on her lap. I look at the paper then put it in my folder.
"Great, now I have the money to build my new house with your money." I joke. I hear her giggle and I try to bite back my smile. She sounds so cute and innocent when she giggles like that. It would easily make anyone wonder how she got in there in the first place. Another part of me quickly answers that. Looks can kill. Great, now I'm putting thoughts in my own head. I stongly wish that I appear more professional than I am right now. If she knew what I was thinking, I'd somehow get fired.
"Okay, first off... I'm Sesshoumaru Taisho. I don't care what you call me. I am paid by the state for your defense." I tell her. I'm trying to sonud as professional as I can, but my mind still refuses to work and let me keep what pride she thinks I have. I know that there's no internal pride left after losing to myself in a mental battle.
"Fluffy. I shall call you Fluffy." She says. I pause. Patrick had just bestowed that nickname on me. Did he call the prison just to tell her to call me that! I look up at her, faking a glare. I seriously want to know why both of them suddenly decided why to call me such a name within the same twelve hours. She lets out a sigh then I watch her become shorter in her chair. Slouching is supposed to be bad for the back. Wonder if she knows that...
You are rather hyper - at times - for someone who's future is on the line." I comment. She only shrugs, and I notice she's avoiding looking at me.
"I just have bad luck. I'm adjusting to it." She tells me. I open my mouth to say something comforting before closing it once more. I'm her lawyer, not her girlfriend who's here for a comforting shoulder.
"Anyway, as for you..." I begin. My mind suddenly sweeps over in perverted thoughts and I pause to get them away.
Other than that, we talked about the trial and her past. Don't ask how we began to talk like friends, but we did. I managed to make it sound professional and like I needed it for evidence, but that was hardly the truth. I wanted to learn about her past myself. So much for going there to work on the trial...
I drive back to the office, my eyes slowly closing. I don't have to work today, but I do have to leave her file there before I forget it at my house. I walk in the office, my nose giving a twitch or two. The secretary. I can smell her scent in my office, but I don't know why she would have been in there. Perhaps she's still in there for me to question her.
I walk in to see my computer running. From the looks of it, I'd say it's been running a while. I sit down then look over the screen. Nothing seems to have been tampered with. Without another thought, I turn the computer off and set the folder down next to my desk. I'll deal with it tomorrow, when I actually have to work. Amazing. Since I own the firm, people believe that my weekends are Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Actually, my weekend consists of Sunday. Meaning work will be here to haunt me tomorrow.
As I leave the office, I see Patrick driving up. I try to get to my car before he parks, but I fail. Now I suppose I'll have to talk to him once again.
"How was the meeting?" He asks. I don't look at him as I unlock my car's door.
"Don't ask." I reply shortly.
"I just did."
"I'm not going to answer." I tell him rudely. He waves a picture in front of my face then I glare at him. It's the picture he took while I was drunk (off of four beers, may I add) with me wearing a dress and singing.
"So, how was the meeting?" He repeats.
"It was fine." I tell him, opening up my car door.
"Yes, I'm sure she was." I look up at him, wondering what exactly I had just said.
"I said it was fine. Not her." I correct him.
"Oh. So you two made love?" He asks me. I shake my head.
"Mr. Roberts, you're about to get yourself fired." I warn him.
"You're about to get humiliated with a picture." He retorts with a witty smirk.
"Don't you have someone else to ignore?" I ask him, getting in my car and nearly closing the door. Well, I would have if he hadn't caught it and held it open.
"No. You're the only one... Now... Tell me what you thought of her and what you two did or else..." He waves the picture around. Rather than taking chances that he'll actually do it, I give in.
"She's a very beautiful woman. I asked her questions about her life, and she answered. She must have assumed it was for the trial, because she answered very professionally. Now, if you don't mind, Patrick, I'm leaving. I'm going to MY home that is empty of ANY woman you might think I got out of prison!" I snap. Patrick backs up from the door and I close it. I lock the doors hastily then drive off. That man can be so annoying at the rudest of times.
Okay, I know Patrick Roberts isn't a name that's more Japanese-ish, but it was all I could think of. I was having hip problems when I was coming up with his name and the boy I like (Patrick Roberts...) had been kicking my chair that day. My hip is fine now, so you don't need to worry.
Well, I hope chapter three's out soon. Don't you? I got 17 reviews for chapter one alone! I think I may make you all give me 30 for the next chapter. Yah, I'll do that. Just to bother all ya'll...
Next Chapter: Arraignment
Reviews Needed: 30
- Bipolar Tangerine