Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons characters; only the original characters listed in this fic.

I accept constructive criticism. c:

~•~•~•~

Springfield County Court House was bustling with lawyers, officers, innocent and guilty alike the morning of November 16th. The usual civil trials, child support hearings and fighting of parking tickets took place but many were there for the Jack Crowley trial.

Many citizens were looking forward to seeing the menace who had been putting the usually laid-back police force on high alert lately; the same couldn't be said for three specific people.

Bart was making small talk with his family as they waited for the bailiff to let everyone into the courtroom, trying to look calm, cool and collected; the constant tapping of his foot gave him away though. He was running on three hours of sleep and two and a half cups of coffee (his stomach began protesting before he could finish his third) and he needed an outlet for the caffeine's effect. It didn't help that this suit he was wearing was a bit constricting also, the muscle he had been gaining making the navy fabric look tighter than it should be. It didn't help that he was wearing a suit also, he hated wearing full suits. It reminded him too much of the Sunday best Marge used to make him wear as a kid, the only difference being longer trousers and a red tie instead.

His father noticed his agitation and frowned at him.

"C'mon boy, quit fidgeting, you're making me nervous."

Bart looked up from the floor to his face and chuckled weakly, stopping his foot. "Sorry Homer, I think I put too much sugar in my coffee today, heh…"

Not convinced by his son's casual excuse, he laid a hand on his shoulder. "Look son, it's alright to feel this way, just take a deep breath and remember we're here with you."

The Simpson boy's nerves eased a bit at his father's words, nodding at his reassurance. "Thanks dad…sucks Lisa couldn't make it though."

"I know but the DA said it's most likely that the three of you won't testify today and you know how she feels about missing school." Homer pouted. "She's crazy for not taking the opportunity though…"

The teen chuckled at Homer's lament. He truly was bothered that his sister couldn't attend but it made sense that she skipped on the one day she was needed for emotional support versus a day where info was being given to the court. She promised to sneak a few text messages of encouragement to her brother between classes though.

Marge was walking up to her family with the prosecutor who was assigned to the case, having stepped aside and talked to her for a few minutes; the woman then asked if she could be introduced to the other plaintiff she was representing. Clearing her throat, the blue-haired woman gained her family's attention. "Homer, Bart, there's someone who'd like to introduce themselves to you."

The woman next to her was the same height and middle-aged with short, parted strawberry blonde hair and dark brown eyes, hiding behind wire-rimmed glasses. Her eggplant-colored pantsuit laid over a white button-up and low black pumps sat on her feet, giving a polished yet comfortable look. She gave the duo a relaxed smile before holding a hand out to shake theirs. "Hello Homer and Bart, my name is Linda Sandoval, I am the leading prosecutor on this case. I apologize for the last-minute meeting, usually I meet with my clients days beforehand but a case in Ogdenville held me up."

Homer shook her hand first before Bart followed suit, the latter speaking. "Thanks for representing us but, uh, do you think we're gonna win this?"

Linda's smile straightened a bit, going into professional mode. "Mr. Simpson, one thing I never do is count my eggs before they hatch. Even though a large amount of evidence is going against Mr. Crowley, I'm mildly concerned with who is representing him. His lawyer has a reputation for, forgive me, being sneaky to obtain a win." At the teen's wince, her lips turned up again in comfort. "But do not worry, I will do my absolute best to bring justice in that courtroom, even if it takes more time than expected."

Bart relaxed a bit at her reassurance, already feeling like he was in good hands. Linda's demeanor spoke of someone who was experienced with both wins and losses but cared about doing her job right, which was more than he could say of the likes of people like Lionel Hutz. The prosecutor suddenly frowned before looking at the watch on her left wrist. "I believe we're missing one more, have you seen Ms. Whitney yet?"

"No, not yet. Maybe she-"

His answer was cut off when the sound of rapid footsteps approached their group, revealing the flustered form of Alex herself. The teen was dressed-up yet dressed-down at the same time, a teal blouse and pressed black pants on her body, looking appropriate for a court of law. The platinum blonde panted lightly before speaking. "S-Sorry I'm late! The traffic getting over here was crazy…"

Linda smiled at the teen in relief. "Not to worry, Ms. Whitney, we are still waiting to be let into the courtroom. I just wanted to introduce myself to you and your parents before we get started."

"Ah, well, I can introduce myself but uh, my parents ran off to see one of their lawyer friends to "talk things out" so…" She held a manicured hand out to the older woman, giving her a small quirk of the lips. "Nice to meet you, um…"

"Linda, Linda Sandoval, dear." The two shook hands before Linda's face became serious once more. "Are you feeling prepared for today's trial?"

Alex's face reflected unease as she looked off to the side. "As prepared as I'll ever be…"

Bart frowned at her words before he stepped close and laid a hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, prompting her gaze up to him. "Don't worry, you're not the only one who's feeling nervous."

Homer piped in jovially. "Yeah, you should've seen the boy just now, his foot was tapping away like a damn metronome!"

The spiky-haired boy groaned at his dad while Alex giggled a bit at the mental picture. Marge shook her head at her husband before stepping forward and giving the teen a matronly smile. "Bart is right, Alex, we're all feeling the pressure today but we're here for each other, okay?"

Her words eased the teen's nerves a bit, making her release the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Thanks Mrs. Simpson…I never got to tell you before but thank you for testifying with us, we'll need all the help we can get against this guy."

Marge's lips turned into a straight line as she nodded firmly. "Of course, dear. After what he did to my son and you, I couldn't stand by and not say a word. I just hope the jury has some sense and puts him back where he belongs."

Alex gave the woman a small smile full of gratitude before the others launched into a conversation on guessing if the jury would be full of any familiar faces (Homer and Bart ended up making a bet on whether Moe would be allowed back after threatening a fellow juror). She looked around the lobby again, seeing if she could spot her parents; alas, they were nowhere to be found.

'Gee, thanks for the support, mom and dad.'

Scowling to herself, she dropped the look when Marge asked whether Lisa had contacted her yet today. Her teeth flashed when she answered that she had already gotten five text messages from her best friend, filled with well wishes and loads of heart emojis. The group continued their conversations until the bailiff entered the lobby, announcing that those who were here for the trial could enter. Everyone steeled themselves as they began making their way into the courtroom, identical to all of the other ones in the building. Linda led the group up to the plaintiff's table, motioning her three clients to take a seat; Alex sat next to the prosecutor while Bart sat between her and Marge. Homer sat in the first row directly behind them, giving Bart and Alex a pat on the shoulder while his wife earned a kiss on the cheek.

While waiting for the trial to start, Bart decided to scan the room to see what familiar faces were here. Looking at the jury first, of the twelve occupants, he only recognized a few of them. Apu was there, looking anxious to get back to his store as soon as possible. It had been ages since he saw him but he recognized Kearney, suited up and not looking to beat on someone. Surprisingly, Moe was there (Bart let out a 'd'oh' when he realized he'd have to give Homer $20 later), attempting to chat up Lindsay Naegle next to him. The blonde woman clearly wasn't impressed with him and carried on a conversation with Helen Lovejoy next to her (a tiny part of the teen prayed that somehow, she didn't find out about what happened with her daughter; he was sure she'd vote against him).

Gulping, he turned around in his seat to look over the gallery. The place was damn near packed and yet people were still trying to enter. He couldn't blame them, this was one of the most interesting events to hit their small town in ages. Soon enough, people had to start lining up along the walls until the doors were shut on those who could not fit; luckily for them, there was a room nearby that would be recording the trial live.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a head of blue hair walking to the defendant's table. He turned his head to see Gideon Burnham setting his suitcase down on the surface, opening it before taking out papers to organize into neat rows. The lawyer had a few gray hairs and wrinkles now but his face still radiated arrogance. He continued to sort his paperwork until the bailiff walked over to him, bending down to say something. Burnham nodded, causing the other to turn around and walk to a door on the far left corner, poking his head in for a few seconds before bringing it back out. A few seconds later, the person he dreaded to see most appeared.

Jack was led out in handcuffs between two prison guards to be seated to the left of Burnham. Once he sat down, the cuffs were removed but not before a stern look was given by the guards. Bart expected the convict to be in stripes but to his shock, a dark gray suit adorned his bulky body. He would've looked put together had the wounds on his face not been there (the teen chuckled devilishly inside as the remnants of his attack and Alex's scratches still remained).

His examination was cut short when the voice of the bailiff rang out. "All rise for the honorable Judge Snyder!"

The gallery rose as Judge Snyder's black-robed form walked into the courtroom, heading up the small steps to sit at his chair behind the bench before motioning everyone to take their seats. Picking up the gavel on his desk, he banged it twice before speaking aloud. "This court is now in session for the trial of Springfield, Simpson, Simpson and Whitney vs. Crowley." He looked at Ms. Sandoval and Burnham before nodding curtly. "Your opening statements."

Ms. Sandoval stood from her seat and spoke with conviction. "Your Honor, my clients, along with the town of Springfield, have been terrorized by Jack Crowley's actions for the past month and a half. Instead of serving his time like a model prisoner, he selfishly escaped in order to kidnap Marge Simpson. However, his plot was thwarted and instead he performed this heinous act on Alex Whitney, who was merely minding her own business and having fun at a sleepover. Mr. Crowley's actions then led to Mrs. Simpson offering herself in exchange for the young lady-" Her right arm shot out to motion to Bart. "But thanks to Bart Simpson's bravery, Ms. Whitney was rescued yet Mr. Simpson did not escape unscathed, having recently recovered from a bruised shinbone, cracked ribs and many other injuries. The people are seeking to indict Mr. Crowley with one count of prison escape, one count of grand theft auto, one count of breaking and entering, one count of attempted kidnapping, one count of kidnapping and two counts of aggravated assault. Additionally, we seek to have Mr. Crowley put for life into an isolated prison far away from Springfield to prevent an incident like this from occurring again."

Seeing that she was finished, Judge Snyder nodded at the prosecutor before fixing his gaze to the rising form of Burnham. The blue-haired man's nasally voice began ringing out. "Your Honor, while I cannot speak against my client's past crimes, I can say that these charges against him are exorbitant. Jack Crowley has been serving his time in prison and was noted for model behavior, often teaching art classes or spending his free time reading, up until his escape. However, this action was brought on not by selfishness but a need to survive. Waterville State Prison is notorious for having a warden and guards who are excessive in bringing their prisoners into complacency with violence; they would not have approved him for early release again and so he resorted to desperate measures. As for what occurred at the Simpson household-" The corner of his lip quirked into a smug smirk. "These actions were grossly exaggerated and the result of Mrs. Simpson's martyrdom and past actions, leading to Mr. Crowley to lash out in self-defense in order to not return to the horror that is Waterville. We seek to lower the charges to only one count of prison escape, one count of grand theft auto and a sentence of an extra fifteen years in a medium security prison where he will be treated fairly."

Judge Snyder nodded at the defense attorney now. "Thank you, Ms. Sandoval and Mr. Burnham. Clearly, there are two differing viewpoints as to what transpired, therefore we will need as many witness accounts as possible in order for the jury to come to a confident decision. Ms. Sandoval, please call your first witness."

While Ms. Sandoval called her first witness, Marge, Bart and Alex were silently fuming over the counterargument that the blue-haired lawyer had proposed. It was pretty clear to the three that he had planned to paint Jack as a victim of circumstance and not the vile criminal he really was. The Simpsons had their fair share of run-ins with Burnham over the years and were only expecting it to get worse from here on.

At the witness stand was Chief Wiggum, barely fitting in the chair. After being sworn in by the bailiff, Ms. Sandoval approached him. "Police Chief Wiggum, your officers have been working on apprehending Mr. Crowley since his escape. Tell me, how strenuous was this effort on your force?"

Wiggum cleared his throat before speaking. "Well, it was a very difficult and long process to track the guy down, I'll tell ya. Clearly he's not dumb like a lot of the usual guys we deal with, there's a few usual places we find them like the homeless shelter or inside the castle at Sir Putt-A-Lot's, heh."

Bart fidgeted in his seat a bit as the police chief continued to be questioned, bringing up details from when they were informed of Jack's escape up to the moment they arrived at the Simpson house. He knew this trial was going to be a long process but he was anxious to testify and get it over with. He already knew what happened the moment Jack arrived at the house, why the hell did they have to repeat and drag it out?

His shifting paused when he felt a hand brush against his left one that sat on his knee. Eyes widening a bit, he looked down to catch Alex's hand returning to rest on her own lap. Looking at her profile, she only glanced at him briefly before continuing to look forward at the proceedings. Bart couldn't help the corners of his lip quirking up at her attempt to comfort him. Feeling adventurous, he reached his hand out and gently tapped a knuckle on the side of her thigh. Seeing her eyes return to him, brows raised in surprise, he flashed his teeth for a split second. It took everything in him not to chuckle at the way her eyes rolled. Focusing once more, he now saw Burnham questioning the police chief.

"Chief Wiggum, surely you have apprehended prison escapees before, yes?" At his affirmation, the lawyer raised an eyebrow. "So why is it that it took you and your men so long to capture Mr. Crowley?"

"Well, like I said, this guy isn't stupid. We, well, mostly Lou, had to find other options on where he could be hiding and narrow them down."

"So did you figure anything vital out during this investigation?"

Wiggum shifted in his seat and looked to the side. "Er, no, we didn't…"

Burnham turned his nose up at the man. "Really? All this work and not one single clue came from it?"

"W-Well, no, we found a couple of things…"

"A couple of things? That didn't help you find Mr. Crowley's location though, did it?"

Ms. Sandoval stood up suddenly. "Objection, leading."

Judge Snyder nodded. "Sustained. Mr. Burnham, please focus on the latter part of the investigation."

Burnham cleared his throat, looking nonplussed. "Chief Wiggum, what led your force to the Simpson household on the night of October 3rd?"

Wiggum answered, less flustered now. "Well, we got a phone call from Bart and Lisa around 8:43 PM stating that their friend appeared to be kidnapped and that there was a possible burglar in the house. We were reluctant to investigate until Bart mentioned that Crowley might be hiding there."

"And his claim…was it absolute or merely a white lie?"

Bart gulped as Wiggum made an unsure sound. "Welllll…we believe that at the time, Bart was lying in order to get us to come but now that we know it was the truth, it's not that big of a deal."

"Is it really 'not that big of a deal', Chief? Lying to the police is a serious crime, no?" Burnham raised a brow. "I'm surprised that the department did not charge Mr. Simpson with a misdemeanor."

The rotund man frowned at the lawyer. "Hey, look buddy, if Bart's lying will help us catch criminals like that again, then he can pee in a glass and tell me it's fresh lemonade. Had he not done that, Crowley would probably five states over." His grotesque metaphor didn't resonate well with most of the room, pulling mutters and a shake of the head from the judge.

Burnham's face twisted slightly in disgust before he spoke. "I see. No further questions, Your Honor."

Judge Snyder nodded as the lawyer stepped away. "Chief Wiggum, you may step down now."

"Thanks Judge." The chief managed to squeeze out of the stand and headed back towards his seat but not before shooting the trio a cheesy grin. Bart couldn't help but reflect it back, appreciative of his testimony in their favor.

Ms. Sandoval finished scribbling down her notes before standing up. "Your Honor, the prosecution would like to call Dr. Julius Hibbert to the stand."

This didn't sit well with Burnham as he stood up from his seat, nasally voice echoing out. "Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?"

The prosecutor gave her opponent a no-nonsense stare. "The relevance is that Dr. Hibbert treated Ms. Whitney, Mr. Simpson and Mr. Crowley for their injuries and can attest to the damage."

Judge Snyder contemplated the explanation before acknowledging the defense attorney. "Objection overruled. Dr. Hibbert may testify but take care to keep his responses factual and with no intent of invoking sympathy from the jury."

"Of course, Your Honor."

Soon enough, the doctor himself began making his way to the stand. Once he was sworn in, he sat down. Ms. Sandoval approached him first. "Hello, Dr. Hibbert. I thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to testify today."

Dr. Hibbert gave his trademark laugh with a smile. "Not a problem at all, ma'am. Everyone needs a day off once in a while, no?"

Ms. Sandoval's lips quirked a bit. "Indeed. Now, you fully treated both Mr. Simpson and Ms. Whitney on the night of October 3rd, correct?"

"Indeed I did. I had just finished an appendix removal when I was alerted that two teenagers had been admitted with wounds from an assault."

"Which patient did you visit first?"

"I visited Mr. Simpson first as it sounded like he had the worst of the injuries. Sure enough, it was true."

The prosecutor nodded and held a hand out to the side. "And could you describe these injuries for the court, doctor?"

Dr. Hibbert nodded before opening the file he had been carrying with him, clearing his throat before reading off of it. "My initial examination of Mr. Simpson had shown extensive bruising on his face, abdomen, left arm and right shin. He also suffered a gash from a knife wound on his right bicep although the paramedics slowed down the bleeding. Once we took X-rays, we found that two of his left ribs were cracked and his right shinbone was bruised. We were ready to call that the extent of his injuries but his behavior as we asked him questions was concerning."

Ms. Sandoval folded her arms across her chest. "Concerning how?"

"Mr. Simpson seemed to have trouble with his vision and also complained of a massive headache during the examination. I'm rather familiar with the symptoms and my diagnosis was correct in that he was suffering from a mild concussion."

"I see. Did he ever explain how this came about?"

"Objection!" Judge Snyder raised an eyebrow at Burnham as he stood up from his chair. "Ms. Sandoval's question is leading into an answer outside of the realm of his report."

"Objection sustained. Ms. Sandoval, please stay on topic."

Her lip didn't turn in displeasure but Marge had done it for her instead. "My apologies, Your Honor. Dr. Hibbert, could you also describe Ms. Whitney's injuries?"

"Hehe, why, yes I can!" The man shuffled his papers a bit before reading once more. "Ms. Whitney's injuries were not as extensive and would only require some light rest. She had suffered bruising on her face and a large bruise on the front of her neck. I assumed it was from strangulation until I noticed the odd shape. It was large and resembled the bottom of a boot; the trail marks were imprinted rather deeply."

Alex shifted in her seat while unconsciously raising a hand to her now healed neck; she could see Bart and Marge giving her a sympathetic look out of her peripheral.

"Were there any other wounds on her?"

Dr. Hibbert nodded grimly. "Why yes, though they were not completely visible. My nurse noticed Ms. Whitney showing discomfort every time she moved and requested to do a full-body exam. I left the room for privacy reasons and came back to have my nurse tell me that the girl had multiple bruises scattered over her torso. Thankfully, she had not suffered any head injuries and was shaken up yet coherent when we questioned her. Her X-rays also came back clean."

Ms. Sandoval nodded. "That's good. Now, onto Mr. Crowley, how did your examination of him go?"

"Phew, I try not to judge on how bad a patient's condition but I was pretty concerned on how he was going to fare. The wounds I was most worried about were his gunshot ones."

"Where exactly was Mr. Crowley shot?"

"He was shot in his right hand, the right pectoral and the left knee; lucky for him, the bullet passed through or else he would have been in worse shape, hehe."

"Were there more wounds, doctor?"

"Oh yes! He also suffered from mild bruising on the left side of his head and a few scratches on his right cheek. The paramedics had mentioned they were bleeding quite a bit but they had managed to stop it on the way over."

Bart couldn't help the daredevil in himself as he leaned in and whispered in the other teen's ear. "Nice work."

The fashionista nearly giggled at the compliment before shooting him a smirk. "Thought I would leave him with something to remember me by."

The teens tuned back in to see the prosecutor now sitting as Burnham stood in front of the doctor and questioned him. "Dr. Hibbert, out of all of the injuries you described, Mr. Crowley's was the most dire, yes?"

"Why yes, that is correct."

The lawyer raised an eyebrow. "Then why is it that he was the last of the three to be treated? Were you not concerned about his condition?"

The doctor tilted his head in wariness. "Why, of course I was. However, Mr. Simpson and Ms. Whitney were minors and it was more suitable to treat them first in order to ease their parents' troubles."

Burnham made a sound that showed he wasn't convinced of the African-American man's excuse. "Is that really the reason, doctor? Or was it because of Mr. Crowley's criminal past?"

The plaintiffs didn't like where this line of questioning was going but watched closely for the answer. Dr. Hibbert felt the same way as he frowned and narrowed his eyes at the lawyer. "Sir, if you're implying that I am prejudiced in how I practice, I'll have you know that you're barking up the wrong tree. What I said is the truth."

"Oh, but is it the truth, doctor?" Burnham turned to face the court. "Do you not have a history of charging exorbitant prices for your medical practice?"

Dr. Hibbert looked a little sheepish now as he looked around. "Why, uh, yes…"

"And while I cannot speak for the Simpson family, I can say this next statement with confidence. The Whitney family has massive wealth-" He turned back to give the man a stern look. "Is it not possible that they promised a high payout for treating their daughter, and by association, Mr. Simpson, first in favor of delaying Mr. Crowley's treatment?"

Marge's hands clutched the fabric of her green dress as she saw the doctor look even more uneasy than before. While she wasn't feeling an ounce of sympathy for Jack, she prayed that the doctor that had been treating her family for years had not stooped to such a low.

"Objection. Your Honor, this line of questioning is prejudicial and based on speculation, not facts."

The blue-haired man eyed the prosecutor with mild displeasure at the outburst. "Ms. Sandoval, Dr. Hibbert's greed has been recorded multiple times over the years and is a fact. I would not subject a witness to such unprofessional acts unless I was confident it had merit."

Ms. Sandoval clearly wasn't buying his excuse as she looked at the judge with expectancy. Judge Snyder looked between the two and the doctor for a few seconds before speaking up. "Objection overruled. Unfortunately, while Dr. Hibbert is a skilled practitioner, I have witnessed firsthand these acts of greed in many cases. Dr. Hibbert, please answer the defense's question. Remember, you are under oath."

The doctor swallowed at the reminder and nodded. "Yes, Your Honor." He then sighed before speaking. "Well, I must admit that my greed has gotten the best of me before…this time was not an exception."

The trio's hearts sank as the gallery murmured at the doctor's admission.

"The Whitneys actually called me before I was notified of their daughter's arrival and expressed that they wanted to negotiate a deal with me in order to ensure treatment of her first. I was going to reject until they had mentioned the amount and who had injured the young lady."

Burnham's smile was dripping with slime. "And so you violated the Hippocratic Oath once again in favor of money."

The African-American man's face radiated shame as he nodded slowly. "I'm not very proud of that…but I can say this." His expression became one of contempt. "Whether money was involved or not, I was not ashamed to treat two innocent victims over a violent criminal. I just hope that the jury can ignore my wrongdoings and make a decision with my report of their injuries."

His commentary broadened the lawyer's smirk and brought another round of discussion in the room. Ms. Sandoval and her clients were not feeling confident. Now that Dr. Hibbert's testimony was in jeopardy due to his admission, it was unclear how this trial was going to proceed.

Alex was fuming, though. She had been witness to her parents using bribe money to have things go in their favor but this was too much. The teen didn't give a damn about Jack (he deserved what he got) but their meddling could possibly screw up this whole case. Gritting her teeth, she turned in her seat to locate her parents in the gallery. To her prediction, the two were not in the room. They probably were watching in the next room and knew there was a chance their names could be brought up; she wouldn't be shocked if they snuck out.

'Parents of the goddamn century.'

Turning back around, she sighed in exasperation. The judge had allowed Dr. Hibbert to step down while the defense prepared to call their next witness. The rest of the trial went by in a blur as testimonies from Lou, Eddie, the Warden from Waterville and people who had claimed to see or encounter Jack (the guy whose car he had stolen was giving the convict a scathing glare the entire time) were given. Before everyone knew it, the judge banged his gavel before announcing that the trial would be continuing on another day due to time constraints. With two more bangs, he dismissed everyone and walked down from the bench to leave. Everyone quickly followed suit once he was gone, scrambling for the doors.

Linda and her clients lingered though, waiting for the rush to die down. Packing her briefcase, she eyed the others as they stood and stretched. "Well, that's one day down. How are you all feeling?"

Bart cracked his neck and gave the woman a tired look. "I don't know if it's because of all the crap that went down or because there was so much to listen to but I'm beat."

Marge nodded and wringed her hands. "It was rather exhausting to watch the proceedings…"

Alex straightened her clothes a bit, biting her lip. "Yeah…Ms. Sandoval, what Dr. Hibbert said…"

The prosecutor's eyes softened as she could sense what the teen was about to say. "Ms. Whitney, please don't apologize for your parent's actions. There was no way you could have known-" Her eyes narrowed a bit. "Although I wish the doctor had mentioned such a deal during preparation."

Homer had walked over once he was able to leave his seat. "Pft, way for him to flush everything down the toilet. Although, that was nice of him to admit that he didn't regret helping the kids first."

"While I agree personally, Mr. Simpson, this type of behavior will not sit well with the court. I'm sure it will also pose a risk to the doctor's medical license but that is up to the board."

The Simpson woman murmured in worry, wringing her hands more. "I sure hope this won't affect him too badly…"

Everyone else nodded in agreement before exiting the courtroom. The group continued talking and making plans in case the prosecutor needed any info from them or wanted to bring up some concerns. If everything kept going as planned, then the trio would be testifying next time. Linda tried to comfort them as their faces expressed distress at having to recall what happened; this was the one part of her job she never liked. After some more encouraging words and advice, the group parted ways. Alex begrudgingly started to look for her parents until Marge invited her to come with the family back to their house, sensing that the teen did not want to be around the source of her anger right now. She didn't hesitate to accept, even grinning when Marge mentioned that they had a large amount of chicken casserole left over from last night. She shot a quick text to her parents before leaving with the Simpsons. The rest of her day was spent having a good time with the family and holing up in Lisa's room as they chatted about the trial and the usual stuff. Bart decided to unwind and play some Grand Theft Walrus III in the basement while Marge sat down with Homer in the dining room, conversing over some red wine.

They needed all the relaxation they could get before next week.

~•~•~•~

Looking for some dumb book that he was only going to read for one class and never pick up again was not how Milhouse wanted to spend his Monday afternoon.

He figured that the first store he stopped at would have what he needed but Books had no copies left, Popular Books had little stock in general and Taschen wanted to charge him an arm and a leg for a battered copy (he never liked going there but he had no choice). His last chance was Bookaccino's or else he was going to have to end up with a possible failing grade.

Walking through the automatic doors, he entered said bookstore and stood still, looking around as he tried to figure out where exactly the book would be located. Scanning the large area showed him multiple aisles with different genres splashed on each sign above it. Milhouse frowned, not really sure what genre the literature would be under. Looking up, he could see the second and third floor and groaned to himself in annoyance.

"Screw this, I'm better off asking someone."

Eyes squinting, he began roaming the first floor, avoiding those who had their nose in a book or were carrying large stacks until he found an employee nearby. The older man was deep into organizing a shelf of poetry and didn't hear the teen approaching. Clearing his throat, he spoke up. "Hey, can you help me find a book, please?"

The employee jumped a bit before turning, his wrinkled face forming into a gentle smile. "Of course, young man. What are you looking for today?"

"It's uh…oh, hold on." Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled a paper out before unfolding it and reading. "It's called Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Do you know where I can find it?"

The older man's face lit up in recognition as he nodded eagerly. "Why, yes I do! Please follow me."

He motioned Milhouse to stick close to him as they began walking deeper into the store until reaching the elevators. The employee hit the up button and turned to the other as they waited. "Let me guess, it's for your English class?"

The van Houten boy's eyes widened in surprise. "Y-Yeah, it is. How did you-"

The employee chuckled, adjusting his wire-framed glasses. "I've had quite a few students stop by in the last week looking for a copy. Seems like it's a popular book since most of the other stores sold out within days!"

"Pft, tell me about it, this is the fourth store I've been to today!"

The older man laughed jovially at Milhouse's complaint, motioning him to enter the elevator once it arrived. Pressing the button for the second floor, he grinned. "Well then, now you know where to go to in the future, son. I hope you didn't stop at Taschen?"

The teen grew sheepish, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I-I was desperate and it was nearby…I'm never stepping foot in there again, though."

Uncharacteristic to what he had been showing, the employee's face grew serious while his smile turned upside down. "Good, they're nothing but crooks, I tell ya. Tried to sell me an encyclopedia with torn pages and dust mites." The blue-haired boy cringed at his words before shaking his head. He wasn't surprised to hear them try something like that; he felt bad for the poor bastards who gave such shady people their money.

A ding sounded before the elevator doors opened. The man walked out, Milhouse trailing behind, and headed four aisles down before turning down the one labeled science fiction. With no hesitation, he stopped three shelves down before pointing to the book the teen had been looking for. "Here you go, son!"

Milhouse made a sound of astonishment mixed with excitement. "Thanks mister! Wow, you found it like it was nothing, heh."

The employee chuckled and grinned. "I would hope I'd be able to find it with how many requests I've gotten. Just come look for me if you need anything else, son, my name is Walter."

"Thanks Walter!"

The man nodded and gave him one last smile before walking off. Feeling some of the frustration ease up, Milhouse grabbed a copy of the book off the shelf and began walking out of the aisle. Heading back to the elevators, he pushed the button and waited for his ride to come. He began whistling a random song while looking around. Now that it was the afternoon, the bookstore had some action and many people were roaming around, leaving clusters in front of sections while some had only one or two people straggling. To his amusement, the religion section was one of them, housing a hunched over old man who looked like he smelled of mothballs and a young girl who looked to be around his age.

Milhouse couldn't help his wandering eyes as he studied her out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't very tall himself (forget what anyone else said, five foot six was a perfectly fine height) but this girl seemed to be much shorter than him, probably no more than five feet tall. Her outfit consisted of a lavender button-up shirt and a matching slate gray and plaid tie and skirt plus black tights and black Mary Jane shoes (he assumed she attended either a private or Catholic school). Once he stopped on her head though, his face scrunched in thought. The fluffy light brown hair and the style it was in seemed so familiar…

Completely forgetting about the elevator, he racked his brain trying to remember just who she reminded him of. Grumbling to himself after a minute, he was ready to give up until the girl dropped one of the books she was holding. She turned towards him and bent down to retrieve it, giving him a solid look at her face. Milhouse couldn't help the drop of his jaw and the way his eyes bugged out.

Six feet away from him was Samantha Stankey, his long-lost childhood love.

The van Houten boy just couldn't believe his eyes; he had to have been dreaming! But no matter how many times he opened and closed his eyes, she still stood there, skimming the pages of one of her books.

'It really is her…'

To his bad luck, she looked at the watch on her left wrist and became startled, quickly shutting the book before speed-walking in the direction of the stairs.

'Oh crap, I can't lose her, I have to-'

"Excuse me, are you getting on?"

His panic was interrupted by a woman's voice. He looked to the elevator to see a middle-aged woman with her child holding the door open. Milhouse quickly shook his head, backing up. "N-No, go ahead."

The woman nodded and let go, allowing the metal doors to shut. Turning back around, he swore as he didn't see Samantha anymore. Hoping that she didn't change course, the van Houten boy speed-walked in the direction she went. A sound of triumph escaped him when he saw her about to walk down the stairs.

"Samantha, wait!"

Her back stiffened and she paused at hearing someone calling her name. The blue-haired boy ran up to stand a foot away from her now. She turned around cautiously, clutching her books to her chest; she nearly dropped them when she saw who was standing in front of her.

"M-Milhouse…?"

The sound of her soft voice saying his name brought back fond memories and a huge grin to his face. "H-Hey."

Samantha spoke slowly and held her books tighter. "W-What are you doing here?"

"O-Oh, I, uh-" He held up the book in his hand. "I had to get a book for class…"

"Oh."

Milhouse's smile dimmed a bit at her behavior. Instead of being excited to see him again, she seemed almost afraid to be talking to him. Her eyes kept darting around instead of looking into his, her shoulders were hunched up and her feet kept shuffling from side to side.

"Samantha? You okay?"

She jumped a bit before nodding quickly. "Y-Yes…listen, I have to go…"

Before she finished her sentence, the nervous teen began turning to walk down the stairs. Confused at her behavior, the taller teen's face reflected it as he reached a hand out.

"W-Wait!" Samantha paused before looking over her shoulder with hesitation. "Samantha, why are you running away from me? Didn't…didn't you miss me?" His voice lowered to a whisper. "I know I missed you…"

For a split second, her dark brown eyes made direct contact with his own, widening slightly as she heard his whisper. Licking her suddenly dry lips, she spoke so quietly he almost didn't hear. "I…I missed you too…but we can't be around each other."

His heart dropped at what she said, outstretched hand lowering to rest at his side. "Wh-What? Why not?"

"W-We just can't, okay?" The firmness of her insistence caused him to take a step back in disbelief. "It's for the better, honestly…if we hang out around each other, i-it'll just be trouble…"

"But Sama-"

The shorter teen shook her head firmly, cutting him off. "Please, I'm begging you, just forget about me…" Turning her head back around, she spoke in a strained voice. "Goodbye Milhouse."

With no hesitation, Samantha ran down the stairs, disappearing once more out of his view.

To say that a torrent of emotions were whirling through the van Houten boy was an understatement. He was confused, hurt, sullen, you name it.

It had been seven years since he had seen the girl he was madly in love with and what he expected to be a happy reunion was rushed and one-sided. Just why was she acting this way? Did she lose feelings for him? Did she grow to resent him during their separation? Or maybe she found a new love?

The mere thought made him want to upchuck his lunch.

Trying not to show his misery on his face, Milhouse sighed shakily before heading down the stairs himself. He walked to the registers and paid for his book before hitting the streets. The cold air made him shrink into his coat like a turtle into its shell though he wished he could hide his head like one. First Lisa's rejection and now Samantha's? His luck with girls was always abysmal but he was positive he hit a new low this month. But he didn't want to just leave it alone. What were the odds that they just now reunited in a town as small as this today?

Running into her after all this time had to mean something.

Pursing his lips, he headed to the bus stop with a newfound conviction. He couldn't lose her again like that, he had to find her and get to the bottom of everything. And if it turned out that she truly wanted nothing to do with him anymore, then he would bid farewell one last time while his heart was breaking.

~•~•~•~

"Now bring that loop through aaaand…you're done!"

Lisa hummed in approval as she finished tying her cow hitch knot. "Wow, that was easier than it looked!"

Luke grinned down at her. "Of course it was, no need to be afraid of rope-tying. That's some mighty fine work there, Lisa."

The teen giggled bashfully at the compliment before letting go of the rope. "Thanks Luke."

The senior wrangler had brought her over to the free-range areas to feed the animals and make sure they were all in good shape (she had managed to pick up on one of the chickens having a sprained leg and made a mental note to let the ranch vet know). While they were pouring corn and soybean meal into the pigs' troughs, Luke offered to teach her how to tighten the cattle ropes. Ever eager to learn new things, Lisa agreed. Looking at the special knot at first brought a sense of dread that the other eased quickly. He had a simple yet effective way of teaching her step by step and her first cow hitch knot was satisfactory.

Lisa continued checking on the other ropes until a bell rang in the distance, signaling that supper was ready.

"Welp, looks like it's time for dinner. C'mon, let's mosey on over, Cookie Jr. let it slip that he was makin' veggie pot pie, baked mac and cheese and fried green tomatoes today."

Her stomach was a bit empty but the description of the food brought a slight rumble out. "Ooh, that sounds amazing! Alright, lead the way."

The older man nodded and began leading the long walk back to the dining hall. While the duo conversed with each other, Lisa's mind was running rampant. The question she had been wanting to ask Luke was still itching to come out after all these weeks.

After the first couple of work days, the teen managed to become more relaxed around the other, his hospitable and warm personality bringing down those barriers she had put up since he reentered her life. However, she still couldn't shake the idea that he was just very good at putting on a front and still thought of her as the despicable girl who nearly sent his sister to a watery grave. Insecurity still plagued her after all these years.

Lisa bit her lip as she looked at him from the side.

But when was the best time to ask him if not now? They had time until they reached their destination and her nerves were the most relaxed since she had arrived at the ranch. Worst case scenario, she'd get the answer she didn't want and begged to switch internships with the guidance counselor tomorrow…

"Um, Luke…can I ask you something?"

The blonde man looked down at her and nodded. "Shoot, missy. What's tuggin' at your rope?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and did a silent prayer to Buddha. "A-About what happened before…I-I mean, you know, all those years ago…with Clara…are you still…mad at me?"

Lisa only saw his shocked expression for a second before she looked forward again, now rambling, her hands waving around in wild motions. "Because well, I-I wouldn't blame you if you did! A-And maybe you're just being really nice now because you're a professional and don't want to show your true feelings but that just says a lot about your character and how much you care about your job that you wouldn't let-"

"Whoa whoa, hold up, missy!" He stopped abruptly and jumped in front of her, his hands held up in a stopping motion. "Now where in the world is this all comin' from?"

The Simpson girl took a breath only to continue her tirade. "W-Well, it's something that's been bothering me since I started working here…actually, since we reunited and I know that sounds crazy but it's not one of my finest moments and I nearly had your sister killed so I wouldn't be surprised if you-"

"Lisa, Lisa, relax!" Sensing that the girl was on the verge of another tangent, he gently held her arms with his hands and gave her a stern look. "Look at me. Relax. Good, now breathe for me."

Once she followed his instructions and seemed to be fidgeting less, he let her go and placed his hands on his hips. "Now what in the Sam Hill is this about me bein' mad at ya? That was years ago!"

"I know, but-" Lisa was about to flail again until she grounded herself by grabbing onto her pant legs. "It was such an awful thing for me to do, I can't see why you wouldn't be still feeling this way."

Seeing that this dilemma was really bothering his understudy, Luke let out a long sigh and took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair with the other hand. "Lisa…look at me, I need to tell you somethin'."

'Oh no, he's really going to let me have it…'

Lisa reluctantly followed his orders, biting her lip until it turned white. To her shock, instead of a resentful expression, the senior wrangler had a look of disappointment.

"Now what kind of fella would I be if I still held a grudge after all this time? Look, I agree, what ya did then was despicable but c'mon, you were what, eight? I don't know a lotta eight-year-olds who are pretty emotionally stable." A chuckle came out after he said, easing Lisa's nerves a bit. "I'm not gonna lie, when ya approached me in that parkin' lot months ago, everything that happened came floodin' back and on the way home, I questioned myself. I asked myself 'how did I feel after all this time?'. 'This girl who nearly got my sister killed had the nerve to approach me, what's my heart tellin' me?'. Ya know what I realized?"

His sky-blue eyes wrinkled as he cracked a smile. "I wasn't mad anymore."

The answer caused the teen's jaw to drop to the floor while her eyes bugged out. Smile stretching more at her reaction, Luke continued. "I gave ya the benefit of the doubt that you've matured after all these years and from what I've been seein', I was right. I also couldn't find it in me to be angry anymore; heck, Clara had gotten over it way before I did but she's always been very forgivin'."

Lisa wanted to just spew out apologies and how grateful she was that the siblings had forgiven her transgressions but all that came out was one word. "O-oh…"

"Now, can ya promise me somethin', Lisa?" She nodded eagerly, making his face serious once more. "I don't wanna hear anymore of this nonsense because I don't hate ya one bit. In fact, I'm happy to see someone who was so passionate about what she believed give this place a chance again. I couldn't imagine a better understudy."

The teen wished she had a cowboy hat of her own to tilt down and hide her flaming cheeks. She was screaming inside; he wasn't mad at her anymore! It felt like a ton of weights came tumbling off her shoulders with each sentence until she felt that she could fly like a bird. The compliments also softened her towards him, knocking down those barriers she had quickly constructed before starting her internship. Now she could fully enjoy working at the ranch without worry that the older man would snap and bite her head off one day.

Taking in a shaky breath, Lisa gave him a sincere smile. "T-Thank you, Luke…really, it means a lot that you were able to forgive me after all this time. I really do like working here, I was just tired of my paranoia keeping me from enjoying this experience to the fullest, hehe…"

"Well missy, now ya know the truth so I hope you'll stay with us until the end of the period. Besides, Viola would kick up a fuss if you disappeared all of a sudden…"

Lisa giggled at the mention of the pony-now-horse that she became reacquainted with; she could picture her huffing and stamping her hooves. "You do have a point."

The duo's moment of clarification was interrupted by a loud growl. Luke looked down at his stomach with annoyance while Lisa snickered. "Now that we've got this all cleared up, why don't we speed over before the food gets eaten up?"

"Good idea, lil' lady."

They continued on their trek, jumping back into light conversation, Lisa notably more expressive than before. Now that she didn't have to worry about what the other was really thinking of her, she felt like nothing could stop her for the rest of the day. Well, except for her current hunger.

~•~•~•~

It was noon on a Thursday afternoon when Alex snuck outside during lunch, her phone clutched tight in one hand while her free arm wrapped tight around herself. The chill in the air was getting worse, signaling that December was nearby and that adequate gear would be needed to stay warm. Unfortunately, she didn't want to alert any teachers by sneaking out the back entrance with her coat on so she did her best to keep warm.

Sneaking out of school was unlike her but she had to make an important phone call and wanted no one to overhear what she was about to do.

Holding her phone up to her face once more, she bit her lip at the number she had dialed on the keypad and had yet to call. Alex had been standing outside for three minutes now, repeating the action as she hesitated to hit that green button. What she was about to do was extremely risky but she couldn't take it anymore. Between the kidnapping, being molested by some pervert and having to be in the same room as the man who nearly killed her and the boy who saved her earlier this week, her mind was a mess. She had on and off nightmares, had trouble finishing her meals without wanting to vomit and nearly snapped on her friends and family for minor annoyances. The fashionista needed to get this under control before it went too far and destroyed her or her relationships, whichever came first.

So why the hell didn't she hit the call button yet?

She was fearful of the repercussions that would come from what she was about to do, mainly her parents. Normally she wouldn't care what they thought about what she did but once they realized that it was going to involve their money and reputation, surely they would flip. The family had immense wealth but they refused to spend it on things they deemed unnecessary; to her luck, they were so comfortable financially that they rarely checked their statements. Alex just prayed that they wouldn't check long enough for her to take advantage of this.

'Okay…c'mon girl, stop messing around and go for it.'

Taking in a deep breath of the cold air, she pressed the green button with her thumb and held the phone up to her ear, tapping her foot as it rang. Within a minute, the voice of a woman sounded happily. "Hello, thank you for calling the office of Dr. Trinh, how may I help you today?"

"H-Hello-" Alex cleared her throat, fixing her croak. "I-I was hoping to, um, get an appointment with Dr. Trinh…"

"Why of course, I can get you set up today!" She heard the sound of rustling for a couple of seconds. "May I get your name and date of birth, miss?"

"Yes, it's Alex Whitney and um…my date of birth is August 3rd, 2005."

The woman paused before speaking in a skeptical tone. "Miss, if you're underage, you'll have to have your parents or legal guardians book a session for you. We won't be able to get you in without their permiss-"

"I-I know but…listen, I can't let them know that I'm doing this…they'll lose it if they find out."

A pause. "Please excuse me for one second, I'm just going to put you on hold, okay?" At Alex's sound of affirmation, a click sounded before a song began playing in her ear.

The fashionista was starting to shake from the cold and her frayed nerves. She was fearful that she would be rejected due to her age and would be screwed. Researching her parents' insurance showed that this was the only place that took it and so her options were extremely limited. What was she going to do if they said no?

Just when she was scrambling for a back-up plan, the woman returned. "Hello Ms. Whitney?"

"Y-Yes, I'm here."

"I spoke with Dr. Trinh and although we usually don't take minors, she made a suggestion. We can book one session for you and during it, she will determine whether you are in need of counseling but you will have to make sure your insurance info is able to cover you."

Nearly sighing in relief, Alex held it back and replied. "It will…actually, this was the only place that would take it."

"Okay, thank you for the information, Ms. Whitney. Since that is out of the way, I will need to ask you our usual questions before making an appointment. First, are you feeling suicidal tendencies?"

"Oh no, not at all."

Typing was heard. "Thank you, I know it's an invasive question but it's to determine how quickly we need to get a patient into our office. Second, do you have any medical issues that could be the cause of your current mental state?"

"No ma'am, I'm pretty healthy, honestly."

"Well, that's always a good thing. And finally, have you had any previous therapists? If so, we would need their info in order to contact them and obtain your files."

"N-No…this is my first time."

More typing. "Okay, Ms. Whitney, thank you. Now, I'm assuming you're in school now, when would be the best time to come in?"

Alex had to comb through her brain, trying to find a free spot between work and school. "Um, I'm free tomorrow after 3 PM…unless that's too soon?"

"No no, not a problem, we actually have a 4 PM slot open!"

"Oh, that'll work then."

"Wonderful! Okay, I have you down for 4 PM tomorrow, just make sure to have your ID and insurance card with you so we can enter you into the system. Oh, and Ms. Whitney?"

"Yes?"

The woman's voice softened. "I'm sorry that you're in a situation where you can't rely on your parents to make this call for you…but I'm proud that you were able to do this yourself. Getting help is not an easy thing but I promise you that Dr. Trinh is a wonderful woman and will do her best to help you out however she can."

The teen bit into her bottom lip hard, trying to fight back the tears at the woman's kind words. This stranger was giving her more encouragement than her own parents ever had. Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, she spoke in a shaky voice. "Th-Thank you…really…"

She could picture the woman smiling when she chirped. "Not a problem, dear. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow afternoon. I hope the rest of your day goes well."

"Same to you…thanks again."

Hanging up, the arm holding the phone quickly dropped to her side, hanging limp as she tried to get her emotions under control. She went from feeling anxious to hopeless to relieved to choked up within a few minutes, all from one phone call. But that was the easy part; now she had to go to their office tomorrow after school and spill her guts on what a wreck she had been for the last month. A part of her was ecstatic to get some help but a large part was terrified that some things that she hid deep inside would be dug up but that's what a therapist was for…

Realizing how numb her fingertips had gotten, Alex composed herself before heading inside, ready to act like everything was a-okay once more.

~•~•~•~

Marge hummed along to a Beatles song on the radio as she drove her station wagon, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel in delight. She had gotten a phone call from Homer about thirty minutes ago, sounding disgruntled as he explained that he had forgotten his lunch at home. He asked her if he could bring it for him to which she didn't hesitate to accept. The kitchen could wait to be cleaned.

A smile stretched her lips.

She felt a bit giddy at going to see Homer at his job. The last time she visited had been over a year ago when she had to bring him a new shirt; some waste had dissolved his sleeve when he was fixing a leaking pipe. Explaining her eagerness to others would've brought questioning stares, for sure. What was so exciting about having to go out of your way because your spouse was forgetful? Well, their spouse wasn't someone who they didn't see for days in a row.

Before she knew it, she reached the gate of the power plant, braking in front of the lowered yellow bar at the gate. The guard inside the booth looked up from his phone with a bored expression before it turned into recognition. "Well, long time no see, Marge!"

"Hello Paul! How have you been?"

The guard shrugged. "Ah, same old, same old. Finally got some action the other day when some punk tried to sneak in and steal some waste. Said it was for some science fair project, pft."

Marge murmured at his story. "Well, that was unnecessary, surely he could've asked nicely. I can't see Homer not wanting to give any away…"

"Well Marge, Burns' reputation still lingers around here so I guess people are still cautious. Anyways, I'll let you in rather than hold you back."

She giggled. "Oh Paul, it's never any trouble talking to you. Take care of yourself now!"

"You too!"

The bar raised, allowing Marge to continue driving but not before waving goodbye to the guard. Finding a spot not too far from the entrance, she parked. Grabbing the plastic bag with Homer's lunch, she made sure her little Post-It note was still taped on before getting out of the wagon. She locked it and headed to the front doors, entering and waving to the secretary who was currently gabbing on the phone. Thankfully, the layout hadn't changed since the brief time she had worked here; it was easy for her to find her way up to Homer's temporary office. Reaching the wooden doors, she straightened herself up, smoothing out any wrinkles in her dress and pulling down the sleeves of her cardigan, and knocked. Standing there for a minute, she frowned at the lack of response from the other side.

'Hrm…maybe he didn't hear me.'

Knocking louder this time, the silence continued.

'Now what in the world could be-'

"Ma'am, can I help you?"

Jumping and letting out a squeak, Marge turned to her right to see a redheaded woman approaching her. "O-Oh, I'm sorry, I, um, was looking for Homer."

The woman nodded. "Ah, I see. Unfortunately, Mr. Simpson had to step out for a minute, is there anything that I could help you with for now?"

She tried not to let it show but the Simpson woman's shoulders deflated in disappointment. "Oh, he did? Well…" Looking down at the bag in her hand, she held it out to the other. "Would you be able to give this to him for me? It's his lunch that he forgot."

"Oh, of course!" She took the bag from Marge. "Does it need to be refrigerated?"

"If it's for any longer than thirty minutes, then yes."

The redhead nodded, giving the other a reassuring smile. "You can count on me, Miss…"

Marge held a hand out. "Marge, I'm Homer's wife."

The woman's face lit up in surprise before she took Marge's hand into her own, shaking it. "Oh, so you're Mrs. Simpson! Mr. Simpson is always mentioning you, it's nice to meet you."

The blue-haired woman's cheeks warmed and her heart fluttered at the thought of her husband talking about her at work. "Thank you…honestly, I'm surprised Homer has the time to mention me with how much he's away from home…"

The other's face became sympathetic at her blank tone. "Marge, I'm sure it's difficult but try not to take his absence personally. He really cares about this plant and would hate for it to go under while Mr. Stoolwell is recovering. Mr. Simpson is an extremely hard worker; you should be proud of your husband."

"He is, I know, it's just…" She sighed. "It's hard some days when the only time I see him is when he's sleeping or too exhausted to have a conversation…"

Biting her lower lip now, the woman looked to the side for a few seconds before returning her gaze. "Tell you what. Why don't I… "persuade" him to take it a bit easier? Just so you can have some peace of mind?"

Marge's hazel eyes widened. Realizing what was said, guilt began flooding her before she held her hands up. "N-No, don't mind my troubles, I-I don't want Homer to be distracted because of me, it's-"

"Marge." The other gave her a no-nonsense look. "It's no trouble if it's affecting you and your relationship…really, don't worry about it. There's such a thing as balance, no?"

She wasn't sure why she was letting a total stranger into her marital issues (she should know from past experiences that it was a terrible idea) but this woman seemed earnest. Instead of taking Homer's side since she knew him better, she understood what Marge was going through and how unfair this situation was to the couple. But wasn't she wrongly roping her into this?

"Look, um…I agree with what you're saying and the thought is nice but I-I just couldn't dump all of this onto one of his workers…besides, he might not even want to listen."

The woman chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know about that, I mean, I would hope that he would listen to his assistant."

The Simpson woman became astonished once more, mouth forming into an o-shape. So that's why she was offering. He had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that he had finally been assigned an assistant but he never gave details past that. To think that said person was this helpful woman standing in front of her…

"Well…okay, but only because you insist."

The redhead made a sound of triumph before pumping her free fist in the air. "Awesome, I'll start forming a plan today. You can count on me, Marge."

Marge couldn't help but giggle at her enthusiasm. "I really appreciate it, miss…"

"Mindy, Mindy Simmons."

Marge smiled wider at the response but something in her head was trying to click. That name sounded a tiny bit familiar…

"Thank you, Mindy. I should go now, I'm sure you have your own work to do."

"Pft, yeah, if you call eating the rest of the box of donuts before my boss returns and devours them "work". It was nice to meet you, Marge, have a good day!"

The women said their goodbyes to each other before parting ways, Mindy disappearing into her office with the bag while Marge headed back down to the parking lot. The Simpson woman unlocked and got into the station wagon before backing out and heading to the gate, waving to the guard once more as he raised the bar. Her ride back home was going smoothly but there was a modicum of doubt in her head that refused to go away.

Something about that woman's name was recognizable but she couldn't put her finger on it. Either way, she seemed genuine, in both how she reassured Marge and spoke praise of Homer. She seemed like a good choice for an assistant, especially with her shared voraciousness of donuts like her husb-

Marge's back went ramrod straight as the switch in her clicked.

Mindy Simmons…the attractive coworker that Homer worked with years ago? No…

Sure, the name was common but it was way too coincidental.

It had to be her!

"Ahhhh!"

Marge let out a scream as she slammed on the brakes, stopping only a couple of inches away from Hans Moleman. The old man didn't even look that fazed that he nearly died, too used to unlucky incidents.

She stuck her head out the window, words spilling out of her mouth. "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, Mr. Moleman! Are you okay?!"

He nodded shakily, from age rather than fear. "Yes, I am. Just another day in the life of Moleman."

The senior continued on his way, shuffling onto the sidewalk, leaving Marge to calm her heart down from the sudden adrenaline. Once a car behind her honked, she eased off the brake and continued home, returning to the revelation that caused her near accident.

What were the odds that the woman who Homer had a mutual attraction for back then had returned? What were the odds that she was now his assistant? What were the odds that she offered to help Marge with a situation that had nothing to do with her?

The blue-haired woman's frown increased as she thought about Mindy's behavior.

Marge wasn't the best at picking up insincerity but the redhead didn't show any malice or envy when her relationship to Homer was mentioned. Maybe the feelings she had for her husband had faded over the years and she desired to keep their relationship to a professional level. But if that was the case, why didn't Homer mention her to him? He never described his new assistant, let alone mentioned that it was a woman…an attractive woman. Something about this just didn't sit right with her.

The Simpson woman tried to ignore the doubts plaguing her mind the rest of the day, throwing herself into scrubbing down every inch of the kitchen and bathrooms. She managed, showing a brave face to her children as they arrived home and went off to their rooms. Once she was alone again, she sat on the couch and watched a random talk show that was on the verge of cancellation (the guests they had on there screamed desperation). Insecurity spread as she tuned out the arrogant host, making up all possible scenarios for what could go wrong with having Homer and Mindy working so closely together.

But Marge was not interested in letting her feelings lead into another fight tonight. That new bottle of Sauvignon blanc Selma had gotten her was sounding tempting…

~•~•~•~

Jesus Christ, I can't believe it's been two months since I updated, I'm sorry everyone. Retail and the holidays are a horrible mix lol

Being serious for one second, I need to address an issue I've been having concerning a certain someone's "reviews". For the last few months, someone has been leaving guest reviews with things such as 'Mindy should have sex with Homer' and 'Marge should fall in love with jack', among other things. Don't do that shit, it's annoying. If you're going to leave a review and have criticisms or suggestions, go ahead but this is not the way to do it. It's nothing but spam. I ended up having to delete ten of this person's "reviews" and if they're reading this, please don't do this again. I'm happy to have someone who enjoys my story but don't try and tell me how I should be writing it.

Now that that's out of the way, I hope this chapter was satisfactory, especially with the trial section. My knowledge of court proceedings come from Ace Attorney and Law and Order so I did my best with that and research lol

I'm happy to bring Samantha back into Milhouse's life, I rewatched her episode the other day and they were so stinkin' cute! Of course, it's not going to be easy getting them back together because I'm cruel like that :'D Now Lisa's worries are eased, Alex is getting the help she needs and Marge finds out just who Homer's assistant is…it's gonna get juicy, y'all~

As always, review, review, review! :D