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TITLE: The Practice: St. Patrick's Day AUTHOR: Albert (aw3@hotmail.com) RATING: Somewhere between a PG and PG-13 SUMMARY: A "night in the life" type of story. The lawyers of Donnell, Frutt, Dole, and Young celebrate the Irish holiday together, going out as a firm for the first time. NOTES: I started writing this on March 17, so it takes place a few days after the episode that aired on March 14. 1 Evening was laying its thick, dark cloak over the city. Robert G. Donnell, attorney at law, stood at the window of his eighth-floor office. Beyond it was the brightly lit skyline of Boston. But on this occasion, Bobby Donnell had his back turned to that glorious skyline, for his attention was directed inward. On the other side of his desk, a woman in her late forties was awkwardly drying her eyes, teetering precariously on the edge of letting loose with heavy tears. But Norma Halliwell obviously wasn't giving in. Whether it was some immense inner strength she had developed early on in life, or an incredible passion brought on by her hunt for justice, Bobby didn't know. But Norma Halliwell wasn't crying, even as she related the story of a traumatic episode in the life of her daughter, only now turning nine. "She can't be around strangers without me or her father being around," Norma was saying through slightly constricted throat muscles as she glared down at the handkerchief in her hands. "She can't deal with it anymore. And when either one of us goes somewhere, she always has to know exactly where and for how long, and she.. well, she panics, too, like if one of us is gone for too long. Like, she just knows something's going to happen to one of us.. sooner or later. And this is all because of what that man did to her." Norma suddenly glanced up and looked at her lawyer with a fierce expression. Yes, that was right, Bobby thought to himself, her lawyer. Bobby had decided almost from the moment Norma Halliwell walked into the law offices of Donnell, Frutt, Dole, and Young that he was going to become her lawyer. Her gaze was softened then by Bobby's concerned expression. She gave him a weak smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Donnell. I don't mean to be laying all my grief on you, I'm sure you probably want to be heading on home, after all, it's nearly six, it's a holiday..." "Nonsense, nonsense," Bobby calmed her, rolling his chair out from behind his desk and taking a seat very close to her. "And call me Bobby. Look, this is all very important to your case, everything you've been telling me. Any jury is going to have to hear all of this." "So.. then you *do* think I have a case," she suddenly realized. "Are you kidding me?" he told her, sitting up straight in his chair, raising his voice. "A convicted felon serving time for battery and sexual assault gets hired on at an elementary school as a janitor, and attacks one of the students?" Bobby became quiet just then, leaning towards Mrs. Halliwell. "I wish all of my cases were as clear cut as this one." The older woman's expression brightened as Bobby leaned in much closer, whispering. "I have no doubt in my mind that the school was negligent in hiring this man. And I can get a jury to agree. You can count on that." She shut her eyes tightly and one stray tear rolled down her cheek. "Thank you so much, Mr. Donnell... uh, I mean, Bobby, thank you." She wiped the tear away and hastily began searching for her purse next to her seat. "I suppose, I suppose I should be going now. After all, it is St. Patrick's Day, I'm sure you have your plans, and..." She paused momentarily, smiling at him. "Thank you." Before Bobby could reply, an unwelcome visitor stepped into his office. Out of the corner of his eye, he could vaguely see the outline of a figure all done up in green, from the tips of the toes to the top of the hat. Unfortunately, Bobby could also tell from the corner of his eye that this being was much too tall to be a leprechaun. As he turned, a wild honking noise issued forth from the visitor's mouth. Bobby looked and saw his partner at law, Lindsay Dole, lips wrapped around a party noisemaker covered in a shamrock design. "Happy St. Patty's Day!" Lindsay cried out to Bobby from his office door. "I don't see you wearing green, Mr. Donnell," she said, pointing at him sternly. "Let's hope you don't get pinched this evening!" Bobby glanced back at Ms. Halliwell, whose sat frozen, mouth agape. Coming very close to becoming furious, Bobby returned his gaze to Lindsay. "Lindsay, in case you didn't notice, I'm with a client here!" Norma Halliwell finally exhaled, letting a polite smile form across her face as she did so. "It's alright," she told Bobby. Lindsay gasped and placed a hand on her cheek in a gesture of exaggerated bewilderment. "Oh, I'm *so* sorry, I had no idea.. It's so late I thought that---" "Yes, you're right," Ms. Halliwell quickly said, standing, the polite smile still upon her face. "It *is* late. I should be going and let the two of you plan your... festivities," she told them, hesitating briefly before the word 'festivities', as if not to know what to make of the situation. Bobby quickly rose and followed her to the door of his office. "So... today is Wednesday, for the next couple of days we'll probably be researching the police file, going over the reports that everyone gave. I'm thinking that Monday we can have you back here to go over your story in a slightly more.. formal setting," he told her, glaring over at Lindsay over Mrs. Halliwell's shoulder. "Lucy?" Bobby called out once on the other side of his office door. A petite redheaded teenager with a headset stepped out from behind her desk and walked up to Bobby. "Could you walk Ms. Halliwell out? Thank you so much." Bobby's warm smile turned into a smirk as he returned to his office, not knowing whether to laugh at his law partner or scream her head off. Instead, he spoke in a moderate, half-amused tone. "What the Hell do you think you're doing, Lindsay?" Lindsay began gesticulating with the noisemaker. "What? Come on, Bobby, it's St. Patrick's Day, we're supposed to be celebrating right now!" Bobby crossed to his desk and began filing away the notes he had just taken. "Yeah, well you're damn lucky you didn't start your 'celebrating' five minutes ago, when she was telling me how her daughter was attacked in her own school." Lindsay waved all that away with a slight motion of her hands. "Oh, puh-*shaw*," she told him, taking a seat on the edge of his desk, and peering at him over her shoulder. "Considering some of things our *other* clients have seen, I wouldn't lose any sleep over this little incident." Bobby reached for a paper that Lindsay happened to be sitting on. Before he could jerk it free, she placed a forceful hand on it, leaning in close to get his full attention. "You know, I was thinking, there's a good pub that we can all go, it's over on Charles Street and it's really authentic, a very Irish sort of place." Bobby realized there was no way that piece of paper was going to move, and he released it, reclining in his chair. He knew what she was referring to --- Lindsay had some vague plans she was putting together for tonight. She wanted the partners and associates of Donnell, Frutt, Dole and Young to go out, together, as a firm, for St. Patrick's Day. It would be the first time they had gone out as a group since --- well, it would be the first time they had gone out as a group. Bobby rubbed at the five-o-clock shadow forming on his chin. "Y'know, Lindsay," he began, wincing slightly. "I'm starting to think maybe this whole 'office-bonding' thing isn't such a good idea..." "What?" she cried, standing up and speaking very quickly. "You're the one who came up with the idea in the first place! You said morale was low, we needed to get together, and all of us needed to bond..." "Yeah, yeah, I know," Bobby swiftly replied. "But that was a while back. Morale *was* pretty low then, with Tommy Silva suing us, and all that trouble in the Vogelman case, I just thought it could help us function more as a team..." "And it can *still* help us function more as a team," Lindsay replied. "We can all have lunch together," he offered. "It'll be on the firm, we'll write it off as a business expense..." Lindsay returned fire with a forceful assault. "Bobby Donnell, you and I both know there's no way anyone at this firm is going to bond after a half hour at a sports bar, with basketball games going on in the background, surrounded by a bunch of public defenders schmoozing with each other!" Bobby momentarily resigned from the conflict, lowering his head into his hand. When he looked up again, he stared at her with a seductive smile. "You know, Lindsay, the whole idea of a party sounds great, but maybe..." he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Maybe we should have our own party." Lindsay remained silent, prompting Bobby to rise up and walk over to her, grasping both her arms. "Our own, private party, where we can celebrate in... our own *special* way." Lindsay was speechless as Bobby held her close to him. He could feel the muscles of her shoulders and back relaxing ever so slightly as her body sank into his. Bobby knew the promise of an intimate evening alone would always work wonders when it came to Lindsay Dole. Because she was not only his law partner. She was also his lover. Suddenly, an all-too-familiar honk sounded in Bobby's ears. He recoiled to find that insufferable noisemaker at the edge of Lindsay's mouth once again. "But this will be *after* the firm goes out together, right?" she asked, grinning from ear to ear. Bobby sighed and retrieved his jacket. 2 Jimmy Berlutti came face to face with a middle-aged woman as he went to enter the offices of the firm he worked for, Donnell, Frutt, Dole, and Young. He smiled to her. "Happy St. Patrick's Day," he told her. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" she asked with a slight chill in her voice. Jimmy looked at Lucy, the office receptionist, who was also standing at the door. Lucy, not saying a word, simply shrugged her shoulders and returned to her desk. It must be one of Bobby's clients, he thought. Jimmy whistled softly as he closed the office door and crossed to his desk. When he glanced up, Rebecca Washington, the newest lawyer in the firm, was giving him a harsh glare from her desk. The note on his lips swiftly faded away as he opened up his briefcase. But he couldn't help it. Things had been going remarkably well for him of late. He had won an important civil lawsuit against a gun manufacturer. For years, they had been turning a blind eye to the lucrative black market for their product. This jury agreed to the tune of several hundred thousand dollars. And the judge didn't even overturn this verdict the way the other judge did, the last time Jimmy won a big case. Does it get any better than this? Jimmy asked himself rhetorically. Oh, yes it can, he thought, answering his own unspoken question while filing away some papers into his desk. Because for the first time in years, Jimmy Berlutti had been with a woman. No, no, he corrected himself. Not just a woman. One of the most incredible, sensuous, erotic beings that a man could ever have the pleasure of knowing. A grin was forming across his face, but he couldn't stop it, even though there was no way he could ever tell his friends at the law firm. Members of this practice had had affairs with opposing counsel, sure, but Jimmy was having his way with a circuit court judge. At one point, in the heat of passion, he thought about following one of his softly spoken requests with "Your Honor", but decided against it. Yep, Jimmy Berlutti was better off just keeping his mouth shut about this one. He heard a commotion coming from Bobby's office. The senior partner of the law firm appeared to be having a heated discussion with the cartoon spokesman for Lucky Charms cereal. Oh no, Jimmy realized. It was Lindsay. He remembered her insistence that they all go out as a firm for St. Patrick's Day, but he had dismissed it as simply idle threats. He glanced up at Rebecca with panic in his eyes. This can't be happening, he thought. No way was he going to go to a bar and have stilted small talk with a bunch of attorneys when he could be with... *Your Honor*. He dumped the remaining papers from his briefcase into his desk drawer in no order whatsoever. Quickly, he headed for the door. "Have a good night, Lucy, Rebecca," he said, waving to both women. "If anyone wonders where I went, just tell 'em I had some prior engagements and..." Before he could complete his thought, a loud female voice filled the room and assaulted his ears. "...a great time, it'll be a great time, and hey, Jimmy! Jimmy! You're not leaving are you? Did you forget about tonight?" Jimmy took a deep breath to calm himself before turning around. "Yeah, Lindsay, I did forget." He worked a fake smile about his face. "Silly me, eh?" "Oh, you crazy guy!" Lindsay replied loudly, a giant grin commanding half of her face. "Just sit down.. come on, sit down!" Jimmy, with the pain in his heart evident to everyone except Lindsay, complied. "Let's see here know," Lindsay continued, brushing back the light green sleeve from her wrist and glancing at her watch. "It's 6:15, where is everyone? We've got Bobby, we've got me, we've got Rebecca, we've got Jimmy..." At that moment, Eugene Young, a large, hulking black attorney emerged from the conference room. He was clothed in an overcoat, grasping a briefcase, and heading purposefully for the door of the office. "And.. oh! Eugene!" Lindsay shouted. "We've got Eugene!" "Oh, no, you don't have Eugene," he corrected her, taking ahold of the front door of the office. "Now just hold it there, buster." Eugene suddenly froze in his tracks. "Where do you think you're going?" Eugene turned to face her, wearing an expression on his face that would have struck Lindsay down if such things were possible. Before answering her question, he obviously realized how he appeared, and tried to smile before responding. It wasn't working very well. "Hey, look, I'd love to hang out with you guys, but I'm supposed to be spending tonight with my son," he told her. "Oh, give me a break, Eugene," was the light brown-haired woman's retort. "You forget that this firm helped you retain custody of Kendall, and I happen to know for a fact your visitation rights don't allow you to see him again so soon." Eugene glared at her in shock. "So just sit down, be quiet, and have a good time like the rest of us!" Eugene directed a bewildered gaze towards Bobby, who could do no more than shrug his shoulders in response. Eugene, without another word, returned to his desk. "Jeez," Lucy suddenly chimed in. "I guess I don't have the market cornered on being hyper and annoying, after all." "And I don't want to hear anything out of you, either!" Lindsay shouted at the receptionist. Jimmy folded his arms over the briefcase sitting on his desk, wondering how he had gotten into this mess. Oh yeah, he remembered, he had given Bobby Donnell a loan to help build his practice, that's how it all started. And because of that unjustified loan, the bank fired Jimmy. Bobby took some pity upon Jimmy and offered him a position at the law firm that was, at that time, Donnell and Associates. Luckily, Jimmy had a degree in law, and used it to great advantage in Bobby's firm. He wouldn't get to be a partner for at least another year or two, but with the way things were going for him, maybe he wouldn't have to wait that long... Just then, a heavy set woman burst into the office. Brushing back her long dark hair, she revealed at least a half dozen piercings in her left ear. It was Ellenor Frutt, the fourth and final partner to inevitably be suckered into Lindsay's evil scheme. Laying her briefcase upon her desk, she addressed the firm without looking up. "Okay, so let's get this little office bonding session over with. Where are we going and what's the cover?" Lucy cast off her headset and spoke up. "Yeah, that's what I wanted to know," she pronounced. "Where are we going, anyway?" The gathered lawyers regarded the 18-year-old in amused silence for half a moment, before Lindsay the leprechaun spoke up. "Lucy, we're going barhopping." Lindsay told her. "Yes," Eleanor quickly chimed in. "Barhopping. And do you know what that means, Lucy? We're going to bars. Bars, Lucy. 18-year-olds don't normally get into bars in this part of the world." Lucy scoffed audibly at the notion. "If they don't have the sense to get a fake ID, they won't. Not me," she told them, pulling a small plastic card from her purse. "It's my sister's. We look almost exactly alike." The members of the law firm groaned nearly in unison. "Lucy!" Bobby cried out. "We're all lawyers! We're not going to allow a minor to come to a bar with us and get served alcohol! That's insane." Eugene flipped a page in the legal journal he was obviously pretending to read. "If you ask me, it's insane to let any of you people get served alcohol," he said almost under his breath. "Well, fine," she said, throwing the identification back into her purse. "I can find better things to do than hang out with you old geezers, anyway," she told them, pouting. Jimmy's mind quickly flashed on something he saw in the office last week. Lucy was dating Jimmy Redding, the new forward guard for the Boston Celtics. He smiled to himself as he recalled the almost ludicrous difference in their heights. "Hey.. isn't your boyfriend in the Celtics? How come you don't go watch them play tonight?" Lucy was obviously taken aback by this suggestion. "Oh, *please*," she told Jimmy. "They're playing the Clippers tonight. What would be the point of watching that? It would be like watching one of you guys defend the Pope." "Not if your boyfriend keeps playing the way he's been playing the past couple of weeks," Eugene chimed in above the pages of his magazine. "Hey, hey!" Lindsay interrupted, struggling to bring the conversation back to that night. "Let's say we discuss sports at the pub, huh? I'm thinking we can go to Michael Sherlock's, it's right there on Kingston.. it's downtown, right in the middle of everything..." "What do you mean?" Lucy asked Eugene, glaring at him intensely. "Michael Sherlock's?" Bobby inquired. "Isn't that place a little too.. touristy? I know a better place over on Broad Street..." "What Eugene is referring to, and correct me if I'm wrong," Jimmy said, tuning out Bobby and Lindsay, "is that your boyfriend hasn't been doing too good for the past month or so." He immediately gestured with his palms facing outward. "I'm not saying anything bad against the guy, all I'm saying is, he's seen better days, y'know?" "Oh, sure, Broad Street," Lindsay said, countering Bobby. "Let's go hang out with the hookers and the pimps, maybe we can catch up on old times with all of our former clients." "The past month or so?" Eugene was asking, putting down his legal journal, pretending to be thinking hard. "Isn't that about the time... you started dating him, Lucy?" Eugene gave Jimmy a subtle wink and the two shared a slight chuckle. The largest pout Jimmy had ever seen suddenly appeared on Lucy's face. "That is the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me," she proclaimed, her voice choked with adolescent tears. Before either Jimmy or Eugene could say another word, Lucy had fled from the office, purse in tow, wiping tears from her face. Eugene suddenly burst out laughing. Jimmy began looking back and forth between Eugene and Bobby, not sure what he had said that upset the receptionist so much. "Jeez, don't the two of you have anything better to do than torment that girl?" Bobby said as if he were scolding his young children. "Yes! They do!" Lindsay shouted out. "Like going out, celebrating, drinking, come on, let's go.. everybody.. everybody.." The members of the law firm grumbled quietly as they all filed out of the office. 3 The entire firm headed down to Michael Sherlock's for dinner. The evening had barely begun, but already a large number of revelers were filing in. Bobby was thankful for this, because at least it filled the huge gaping holes in their conversation with some background noise. They chit-chatted about the weather, the Bruins, but as a group, Bobby realized the attorneys in his practice really didn't have much in common outside of work. He could see all of them slowly start to space out. Especially Jimmy Berlutti. He didn't know what daydream he was having, but whatever it was, the subtle grin on Jimmy's face made Bobby envious. Eugene kept checking his watch, God knows why. Every time he looked at it, it was probably five minutes later than the last time he had looked at it. Actually, Bobby was itching to glance at his watch, too, but he knew Lindsay would bite his head off for it later, once they were alone. It probably didn't matter, anyway, Bobby thought. The absolute boredom on everyone's faces was likely to compel Lindsay to end this little 'bonding' session at any moment. No such luck, he realized just a moment later. "Okay, so who wants to do shots with me?" she asked the group who looked at her in stunned silence. Bobby laughed loudly, turning to her. "Come on, it's barely eight. I'm sure you can hold off on that for a little while..." Lindsay glared at him. "What?" "I'm just saying, it's early.. " he said, smiling, "I mean, you don't want us to drink so much that we---" "What? Are you afraid I'll outdrink you or something?" she replied to a chorus of chuckles. "Outdrink me?" he asked her, incredulous. Grinning, he leaned in close to her. "You forget, I'm Irish." "You forget," she shot back. "I'm female." Ellenor laughed for the first time that night, holding her hand up to receive a quick high-five from Lindsay, as everyone else laughed. Except, of course, for Jimmy, who was... well, Jimmy apparently was still daydreaming. "Alright, ha, ha, ha." Bobby replied. "All I'm saying is, it's early, and we shouldn't be drinking all night..." "What's wrong?" Lindsay quickly cut in, an evil smile forming across her face. "Don't have the stamina to keep it up for that long?" "I heard that," Rebecca said as the rest of the attorneys laughed. He leaned in closer to Lindsay, speaking in a half-whisper. "That was a low blow," he admonished. She looked back at him, completely expressionless. "I can go lower," she shot back. Bobby looked frantically around the bar. "Waitress!" he cried. 4 By the time the waitress brought the third round, there were six shotglasses and all of the attorneys were participating. Lindsay looked about the table and saw them all smiling. Yes, they were all *smiling* for the first time tonight. Inside, she felt just a little warm with pride. Actually, that was probably just the tequila in her stomach. "Alright, is everybody ready?" Ellenor shouted, head bowed down, with the small glass pressed to her lips. "Woah, woah, woah, no.. wait! Wait!" Lindsay cried, lifting up her shot glass. "I propose a toast," she offered, already feeling a slight slur in her words, "to Jimmy Berlutti, one of the best lawyers in Boston and a future partner in this firm. Here's to Donnell, Dole, Frutt, Young, and Berlutti!" She looked over at Jimmy who was starting to speak. "Hey, that's nice of you and all, but..." "To Jimmy!" they all cried in unison, cutting him off. They lifted their shot glasses, laughing as they spilled a large amount of tequila trying to tap them against Lindsay's. In a moment, they were all silent, heads bowed down. Lindsay coughed slightly, feeling the alcohol searing her throat on the way down. She grabbed Bobby's bottle of Newcastle Ale to use as a chaser. Terrible stuff, but at that moment she would have been willing to gargle with motor oil to get the taste out of her mouth. She glanced over at one of her law partners. "You okay there, Eugene?" "Uh.. yeah..." he replied with his throat still constricted, eyes watered over. Eugene was a pretty dark-skinned guy, but it was still obvious to Lindsay that he was turning different shades of green. "I think that'll be it for me for a while." "Yeah, me too," Jimmy was saying as the waitress brought out a plate of chicken wings and laid it in front of him. Bobby laughed at the two male attorneys as he threw back a second shot. "Bobby, what are you doing?" Ellenor inquired as Bobby massaged his throat, coughing. "You've been doing twice as many shots as the rest of us!" "Exactly," he said in a sluggish, intoxicated tone. "We'll just see who outdrinks who before this night is over," he told her, casting a sideways glance at Lindsay. He suddenly stood. Lindsay turned to look at him. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and he was swaying a bit from side to side. "You okay there, pal?" she asked him. Realizing how he was looking, he suddenly straightened his posture. "What? Huh? Yeah, of course I'm fine. I just need to go to the men's room. Jimmy? Eugene? You wanna come along?" Rebecca laughed at this. "What, are the three of you turning into women now? Going to the bathroom in groups?" "Hey, we'll outgossip you women anyday," Bobby replied, pointing at her. "Um, I think I could stand to take a trip to the little boy's room myself," Eugene responded, standing up. "How about you, Jimmy?" Bobby was asking. "Uh, no thanks, I'm fine," Jimmy replied, gnawing on a chicken bone. "Don't get lost in there!" Lindsay shouted to them. Bobby waved it off as he stumbled into the crowd, making his way to the bathroom. 5 Ellenor Frutt was feeling seriously buzzed. Despite her large frame, she wasn't much of a drinker at all. She had known since she was a teenager that there was a high incidence of alcoholism in her family. Tonight, however, she felt warm and cozy and didn't really give a damn. "What are you looking at?" Lindsay suddenly asked her. She realized that, without even knowing it, her eyes were fixating on Lindsay. "Well, Lindsay," she began in earnest, "I really... have no freakin' clue," she completed, breaking into laughter. Lindsay just laughed and shook her head. "Oh, you're great.. you're reeeeally great.. I'd love to have you as my attorney..." Ellenor just eyed her law partner silently. For several months, Ellenor had had to put up with her and Bobby having a little office fling on the side. The whole time, one question had always just danced at the tip of her tongue. In some small part of her psyche, she knew she shouldn't be saying it, but she was just about drunk and she was willing to say just about anything at that point. Why not start with the question that she was sure was on everyone's mind? "Lindsay, I gotta know," she spoke up finally. "What is it like to have sex with Bobby Donnell?" "Ellenor!" Lindsay cried. Jimmy's face contorted in disgust. "Please, people! I'm eating buffalo wings here!" "I don't think I really care to know either," Rebecca Washington concurred. "Well, I sure as hell want to know," Ellenor continued, not taking her eyes from Lindsay. "So, come on, tell us... What's it like? Just between you and me." She looked around the table. "Uh, that is, just between you and me and Rebecca and Jimmy. Come on." Lindsay was laughing and, Ellenor thought, most likely turning a little pink in the face. Unfortunately, Lindsay had already been pink in the face from the alcohol, so there was no real way of knowing. The other attorney smiled a half-smile and began speaking. "Well... come on, Ellenor.. what do you want to know? Positions... fetishes?" "Oh, God," Jimmy sputtered, freezing just as he was about to grab another buffalo wing. "No, no, no," Ellenor quickly clarified. "I just want to know how good it is. Approximately." Lindsay mumbled something as she took a swig of Bobby's beer. "What? What was that? Could you please repeat that?", Ellenor asked, feeling a huge grin on her face despite the tequila. "Our court stenographer couldn't hear you." "I said," she began, looking Ellenor square in the eye. "It's the best I've ever had." "Oh, it is not!" Ellenor shouted, giving Lindsay a playful shove. "You are just making that up to make the rest of us here jealous!" "Yeah.. uh, jealous," Jimmy said, looking at his plate in disgust. "How big is it?" "Ellenor!" Lindsay cried. "Come on, these are things we need to know!" Lindsay was looking around the table. Rebecca had her eyes closed and her head resting in her hand. Jimmy had finally given up and pushed his plate away. "Honestly?" she asked Ellenor. The larger woman nodded emphatically. In response, Lindsay brought up her hands, with her two index fingers touching. Slowly, she spread them apart to give an indication of the length. Ellenor screamed, causing more than a few heads in the bar to turn. She quickly realized the scene she was making, and put a hand over her mouth. She and Lindsay giggled like schoolgirls as Bobby and Eugene suddenly reappeared. "Wha.. What did I miss?" Bobby asked, slurring. "Umm.. uhhh..." Lindsay stuttered. "We were talking about..." "Rats!" Ellenor offered. "We were talking about the rats we see in the office. Lindsay was just showing me the size of, um, the biggest one she's seen so far. And, my God, was it *huge*," she told him, slapping a hand to her forehead. "What?" he looked at her, incredulous. "And you didn't tell me about this?" "Well, we thought you'd already have a pretty good idea about this yourself," Lindsay offered up, barely restraining a giggle. "Okay, remind me about this tomorrow," Bobby told them. "Those things have a way of becoming major problems if you don't take care of 'em fast." The two women laughed loudly, and even Rebecca couldn't help a small guffaw. Bobby just stared at them through half-closed eyes, confused, finally turning towards Jimmy for some guidance. "Don't look at me," Jimmy replied to his tacet question, holding his stomach and grimacing. "Hey, whasswrongwitchu?" Bobby slurred in the junior lawyer's general direction. "Lost your appetite?" "You don't know the half of it," Jimmy groaned. 6 The cool night air wafting off the Charles River was a welcome change of pace for Rebecca Washington after the stuffy, smoke-filled bar and the alcohol-influenced warmth finding its way to her face. The streets were filled with revellers from all walks of life. A young Hispanic man sailed past Rebecca and the rest of her firm on a unicycle that looked freshly-painted green. A black man was dressed in drag on the corner, wearing a long flowing white gown and a giant white sunflower hat. What that had to do with St. Patrick's Day was anyone's guess. More than anything, it was just an excuse for a lot of Bostonians to stand out on the street and act insane. Bobby and Lindsay, in particular, were making good on that excuse. Ellenor had taken out her small disposable camera and was snapping multiple photos of the couple assuming ludicrous poses. Jimmy seemed to be simply overjoyed at being outdoors in such a huge, lively crowd. The only two people that looked completely out of place were Rebecca... and Eugene. The senior lawyer had his hands in his pockets, desperately looking for some inconspicuous place to stand. Rebecca grabbed him by the arm and led him into the nearest bar, not stopping to see what the name of it was. "Come on," she told him. "But what about the others...?" Eugene was asking as they elbowed their way through the crowd to the only two stools available at the bar. "They're big kids now, they can find their way home without us," she told him. "Two Cokes," she demanded of the bartender. "Lord knows, I've had enough to drink tonight," she said to Eugene. "Don't know about you." Eugene just nodded and accepted the Coke once the bartender returned. They made some polite small talk. Eugene was a difficult person to know, Rebecca thought. Most of the time, he gave away almost nothing of what he was thinking or feeling inside. Even when he was up on the witness stand, being called to task by Tommy Silva for some of his questionable legal tactics, the facade Eugene showed to the world barely cracked. "Can I ask you a personal question?" she suddenly said to him. "You can ask," was his stoic response. "I mean, I know you don't like people to pry like this..." Eugene just glared at her, then turned away. "But I have to know," she continued, "how do you feel about this whole thing? This whole criminal defense business?" Eugene shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Rebecca continued. "I know this line of work has to get to you from time to time. I mean, when Jimmy was grilling you up on the witness stand in the Silva case, bringing up a lot of old events in your career, you hardly even flinched. And I know with your son selling drugs, and acting like you told him drug dealers can always get off, no matter what..." Eugene turned to her sharply. "*Acting*, Eugene, *acting* like you had told him that. No lawyer, hell, no *parent* in their right mind would tell their kid something like that." She paused, looking at him for a moment before continuing. "You know what really makes me wonder? When I got my law degree, finally, after years and years of night school, everyone congratulated me.. Ellenor may have had some choice words for me, but even she eventually said she was proud of me. But you, you didn't say anything. Never once did you ever suggest you were happy for me or for what I had done." Eugene looked down at his soda. "I'm not sure if 'happy' is the right word." "Then what is the right word?" Eugene turned on his stool to face her dead on. "It's a *job*, Rebecca. It's something I do well. Why does everybody question that? No one questions a doctor when he does his job well, no one questions a policeman when he does his job well. Why should it be any different because I happen to be a defense attorney? I have an obligation to do this job to the best of my abilities." "I know about the obligation, Eugene," Rebecca told him, slapping a hand on the bar. "I took that oath myself! What I'm asking is, what makes you *want* to do this job? What makes you get up every morning and do something that you and I both know mainly helps get a lot of repugnant low-life types back on the streets?" Eugene hesitated a long while before responding. "I guess.. I guess I just think to myself that, if I don't defend these people, they'll just go to someone else, right down the street, who will defend them just as vigorously as I would have defended them. So it might as well be me, right? At least I'll *know* what kind of pimps, pushers, and felons are getting put back out on the street. That's more than I can say for *most* parents." Rebecca relented, choosing not to push the issue any further. Instead, she stared up at the TV set hanging above the bar. One of the local news stations was doing a live report on the St. Patrick's Day revelry. And hey, they were reporting from Charles Street. That was just outside this bar! And right there, above the reporter's left shoulder... Oh, no, Rebecca thought, it wasn't... "It's Bobby! And Lindsay!" she cried, pointing up at the set. Eugene glanced up. "I'll be damned," he muttered. Sure enough, the two law partners were standing among a crowd behind the reporter, mugging for the camera. "I sure hope they realize they just finished suing that guy," Eugene continued. "What?" Rebecca cried. Then it struck her. That was Michael Sawyer, reporter for KHTM, who had done an expose years ago on the cleanliness of a local Italian restaurant. They ran some inflammatory story, showed the cockroaches they caught in the kitchen, and as a result the restaurant went bankrupt. Not more than a month ago, Rebecca's firm successfully sued the station for some ungodly amount.. What was it? Two million? Ten million? Oh, it didn't matter. Just don't let him point that microphone in the direction of a tipsy Lindsay and an outright drunk Bobby. Please. "...and as you can see," came Michael Sawyer's voice from the TV set, "Bostonians are out in full force tonight. Let's see if we can't get a few words from..." Don't do it, Rebecca pleaded in her mind. "...this happy couple here!" The reporter jammed the microphone up against Bobby's face, then immediately froze as he recognized the man that had probably torn him apart on the witness stand. "Um.. uh..." Bobby slurred into the microphone. "It's a great time! I'm here with my..." "Okay!" Sawyer interjected, travelling to another person in the crowd. "Moving right along..." As the microphone left Bobby's mouth, you could just barely hear him mumble something as an aside to Lindsay. It sounded a lot like, "Maybe he should be looking for cockroaches out here or something..." The hubbub in the bar was enough to make it difficult for her to discern the precise words, but one look at the shocked expression on Eugene's face let Rebecca know that she had probably guessed right. "What did you say?" the reporter shouted, quickly turning back to them. Bobby just looked around him, bewildered. "Why don't you say that a little louder, my friend? Huh? Huh?" Sawyer began lunging in Bobby's direction. "Why don't you just be a man and come right out and say it? Or better yet, why don't you just sue me again!" The reporter was frantically trying to attack Bobby, but various members of the crowd were doing their best to hold him back. Immediately, the picture went black. The station cut back to the two anchors in the studio. "Um.." the well-coiffed anchorwoman began. "Well. Thank you. Thank you for that live report, Michael. We'll.. uh.. we'll check in with you.. later.. throughout the broadcast." She forced herself to smile. Eugene and Rebecca took one look at each other and raced out onto the street, searching for any sign of their fellow laywers. 7 Lindsay just laughed and laughed as she ran down the street, tugging at Bobby's hand and almost dragging him along. She glanced behind them to see if the irate reporter was still chasing them; there was no sign of him. Suddenly she saw a large alleyway between two shops and stopped abruptly. Catching Bobby, who almost came tumbling down, she pulled him into the alley. "Oh my God, oh my God," she kept saying through her laughter. "Do you believe we just did that, Bobby? On TV?" "Yeah... jus' great," he mumbled in response. "With my luck, one of my clients was pro'ly watching..." "Oh, come on, Bobby, they'll just think what I thought.. that you're really cute and sexy when you're running for your life." "Hey now..." he began, his eyes struggling to focus on her as she came closer. Before he could complete his sentence, she suddenly stopped laughing, draped her arms around his neck, and began kissing him gently. After a moment, her tender kiss became forceful. She pushed Bobby's back into the brick wall behind him, lifting a knee so it was at his waist. "Have you ever 'done it' in an alleyway?" she asked him, breathlessly, a huge grin plastered upon her face. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled his face to hers and began probing his mouth with her tongue. Oh yes, she thought wickedly, there were not many things in this world more fun than taking advantage of a very drunk Bobby. A sharp voice immediately cut through her slightly inebriated haze of passionate bliss. "There they are!" the voice shouted as the sound of footsteps approached. "Would the two of you get a room or something?" Lindsay peeled her face away from Bobby's only to see Rebecca quickly approaching and Eugene not far behind. "Would the two of you get *lost* or something?" she retorted. "What in the world is going on?" Rebecca shouted, unheeding. "First you pick a fistfight with a TV reporter, then you both duck out of sight and start macking down in an alleyway? What the hell is wrong with you two?" she cried. "We were jus' 'avin' a li'l fun, Rebecca," Bobby said, letting loose with a string of slurred syllables. "And *you*!" Rebecca turned to face him. "You are a wreck! Lindsay, how many more drinks did you pump into him?" She continued her barrage without giving Lindsay a chance to answer. "You know what? I've had enough of this foolishness. I'm going home." She turned and began walking away from the two of them. "Uh, yeah," Eugene spoke up from behind her. "It's getting pretty late, and I do have to be at the office early tomorrow morning..." "Woah.. wait a second. Nobody's going anywhere. What happened to Ellenor and Jimmy?" Lindsay asked. Eugene and Rebecca looked at each other and shrugged in unison. Lindsay exhaled in exasperation. "Well, we can't leave until we find the two of them. They'll end up looking for us all night if we don't tell them we're leaving!" Without another word, Eugene and Rebecca followed along as Bobby and Lindsay re-emerged out onto the boulevard. The carnival atmosphere was subsiding some, but still evident on every corner. Lindsay began peering into the windows of crowded bars for any sign of the other two lawyers. They silently walked another two blocks further down the road. They began noticing a bright light shining up ahead. As the four of them approached closer and closer, she saw it was a police car parked on the wrong side of the road, its high beams pointed directly at another car. With the intensity of the light, they were still a good ways away when she could start to make out the features of the people being questioned by the officers. It turned out that it was a couple standing by the police car. There was a short, petite redhead, and a really tall, thin man... "Lucy..." Rebecca instantly muttered. Lindsay blinked back some of the alcohol-induced haze in her eyes. It was Lucy, alright, standing and pouting next to her basketball-player boyfriend Johnny as the police shone flashlights into the small red Mazda Miata next to the curb. Bobby instantly staggered up to the officers. "What's going on here?" he demanded. "Don't!" Lindsay shouted in vain. "Bobby?" Lucy exclaimed in surprise. "Who are you arresting here? I'm their lawyer." he told them. A thin man in his late fourties with grey hair suddenly looked up at him. "They said he was driving drunk!" Lucy cried. The officer recoiled as he detected the heavy scent of tequila on Bobby's breath. "If you're this guy's lawyer, may God help him," the policeman said, peering at Bobby. "And, oh yeah, nice shade of lipstick, pal," he continued. Bobby immediately wiped away all traces of the lipstick Lindsay had smeared across his face back in the alley. Lindsay suddenly ran up to Bobby, taking his arm to pull him away. "I'm sorry about him, officers. What's going on, anyway? I'm these people's lawyer." "How many lawyers do you two have?" the other officer asked. She was a black female somewhere in her thirties, who was pointing her flashlight directly into the basketball player's face. "He wasn't driving drunk, officer, honest," Lucy was pleading. "We were just going to sit in his car so he could sleep it off." "On what grounds are you arresting my client for DUI?" Lindsay charged in. "Let's see," the older officer replied. "We see him getting into his car, with an open bottle of beer in his hand, along with his girlie here, who despite her beautiful ID picture, I'm guessing is a minor. A couple seconds later, he turns his car on." "I just wanted to listen to the radio," Johnny explained. "Come on, listen to him," Lindsay urged. "I'm not saying he was drunk, but if he was, then his only intent was to sit in his car and sober up enough to drive home safely..." "Then his car began moving forward," the officer said, bringing Lindsay's sentence to a halt. She gazed up at the tall young athlete. "I dunno," was all Johnny could say. "I guess I musta slipped it into drive by mistake or somethin', I mean, come on... it's a small car, I'm always knockin' my knees against somethin'..." The smile on his face disappeared instantly as the older officer stared at him, stone-faced. Lindsay had to think fast. Instinctively, she began clutching at straws. "You.. you can't arrest him!" Lindsay said to the male officer. "He's in the Boston Celtics.. he's got a game tomorrow. Isn't that right, Johnny?" "Yeah," Johnny responded. "I'm s'posed to be in Milwaukee..." "See?" she told the officer. "There ya go!" The officer hesitated momentarily, peering up at the tall, lanky man. "Is that true? Are you a Celtic?" Johnny simply nodded in response. The officer spent a long time glaring at him up and down through one eye, then finally spoke up. "You know, I'm much more of a hockey fan myself," he said. "Too bad about those Bruins, eh? Okay, put your hands behind your back please. You have the right to remain silent..." "You're handcuffing him?" Rebecca shouted. Lucy began crying hysterically, running to Bobby. Just then, Ellenor and Jimmy emerged from the bar across the street. "What's going on here?" they both asked nearly in unison. "I'm this man's lawyer." "Jesus cripes," the officer replied. "You guys *do* come out of the woodwork, don't you?" "I'm not gonna stand for this," Bobby told them, staggering forward. "You have nooooooo grounds 'pon which to arress' my clien'..." "Listen, pal," the female officer was saying. "Get out of our faces and let us do our job, or else we're going to run you in for being drunk in public. You understand?" Before Bobby could reply, a dark haired man with a microphone and a balding overweight man in uniform appeared. It was Michael Sawyer, followed close behind by an officer of the Boston Police Department. "That's him!" Sawyer cried. "That's the guy who assaulted me." Bobby slowly turned to face his accuser. "Huh.. wha?" was all he could manage to ask. "I di'n't insult nobody!" he cried, slobbering wildly. "Alright, what's going on here?" the third officer asked, noticing the scene that was already transpiring. "Hello... how're you?" Bobby responded. "What's your name?" the officer demanded. "Hello... how're you?" Bobby responded. A moment later, he was stumbling into the officer's arms. "Oh my God.. Bobby!" Lindsay cried. Disgusted, the officer pushed Bobby off of him. "Okay, this guy is gone. He's going to the drunk tank tonight." The officer said. "Wait... no... you can't do that," Lindsay pleaded. "He won't cause any more trouble, just let me take him home, please, I swear!" "Sorry, ma'am, he's already assaulted someone tonight," the overweight officer replied, placing handcuffs on Bobby's limp arms. At the same time, the other officer began putting cuffs on Johnny. Both Lindsay and Lucy approached the police car, shouting incoherently as the two men were placed into the back seat. Ellenor ran up and pulled Lindsay away. Eugene grabbed Lucy by the arm and led her off. "This isn't happening, this isn't happening," Lucy mumbled as the patrol car drove away. 8 Bobby felt cold hard concrete against his face as he came to be aware of where he was. He was perched on a hard wooden bench, with his head leaning against the wall. He peeled his face off the concrete wall and felt the indentations in his skin. He had probably been in that position for at least an hour. The numbness that accompanied all the alcohol he consumed was starting to wear off, and that was a very bad thing. His head throbbed, his stomach churned, and the flourescent lights made his eyes ache. Suddenly he heard a flushing noise very close to his ear and saw that his face was just inches from a steel metal toilet bowl. He had seen a toilet like that before, and he winced as he began to figure out what had happened. He glanced around, saw the metal bars, and a myriad of bums and businessman, all looking bleary-eyed and nauseous. Bobby was in the drunk tank. Things had not gone well at all. A man with red hair, bushy red eyebrows and freckles suddenly appeared over Bobby's left shoulder. "They had to put you there because you kept puking all over the place," the man told him with a broad grin on his face. "Ohhhh," Bobby groaned. "You look like you've seen better days, my friend," the stranger told him. "Want a cigg? It might make you feel better." "Nah.. no thanks," Bobby rasped. "So what's your deal?" the man asked, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting up. "What'd they put you in here for?" "I'm not really sure," Bobby said, seeing a blurry haze of events passing in front of his eyes. "Probably.. drunk in public." "Ah, that's the worst. It's like they're saying you're so smashed you can't even walk home, let alone drive. But count yourself lucky, you coulda been arrested for riding a bicycle under the influence, like me. Sheesh. Talk about friggin' embarassing." Bobby groaned again, this time under his breath. Everywhere he went, people were always deciding to make Bobby their brand-new best friend. It always happened with the old ladies and bratty kids on airplanes, now it was happening to him in prison. Could things get any worse? "So what do you do for a living, friend?" Bobby winced. Things were about to get much worse. "Lawyer," he mumbled. "I'm sorry?" the redhead responded. "I'm a lawyer," Bobby repeated, looking into the man's bloodshot eyes. "Oh!" he cried, forming a smile. "A *lawyer*! You don't say! Quite an interesting profession, that... lawyering." He took the cigarette from his mouth and began making large gestures. "'First thing we do, we kill all the lawyers!'" he said, shaking a fist into the air. Bobby managed a weak half-smile as the man laughed loudly. "That's Shakespeare, huh?" "It's from the Merchant of Venice," Bobby replied, nodding. He thought about reciting the act and the scene, too, to give the other man a notion of how many times he had heard that quote. He decided against it, however, realizing the point would just be lost on this babbling fool. "You know, I know a couple lawyers," the redheaded man continued. "Yeah.. that's right. Just a few. There was this one lawyer who told me once to plead guilty to larceny. Never mind I didn't even do anything. But, no, this guy told me to plead guilty so I wouldn't serve any jail time. Little did I know that was gonna make me a felon, anyway, so some other lawyer, my ex-wife's lawyer, used this later on down the line to take my kids away from me. I got beautiful kids, too, there's Jessie, he's ten..." Bobby was in sheer agony. He turned away from the other man, so that his face was leaning against the wall again. Bobby was hoping that if he pretended to sleep, perhaps his new friend would get bored and find someone else to torment. Suddenly, the cell door slid open, and a blue-clad officer stepped in. "Robert... Donnell?" he read from a sheet of paper. Bobby slowly and painfully rose to be escorted out of the cell. Maybe there *was* a God, after all, he thought. 9 After Lindsay bailed him out, Bobby went home to take a shower and get a decent's night rest. Finally, at about noon, he sauntered into the office. Almost everyone was out to lunch, except for Lucy, who rose immediately when she saw Bobby. "Oh my God," Lucy said. "Bobby, are you alright?" "Yeah.. I'm fine," he told her. "My neck's a little cramped, but I supposed that's to be expected after sleeping on concrete. How's Johnny doing?" A voice came from behind him. "They held him and questioned him for a couple of hours," it said. He turned to see Lindsay leaning against the door frame of his office. "In the end, they decided not to press any charges. He's on his way to Milwaukee as we speak." "I feel like my *stomach* is on its way to Milwaukee," Bobby replied, dropping into Jimmy's chair. "I can make for a pretty good spectacle, can't I?" "Hey, it was memorable," Lindsay said, smiling, as she walked over to him. Lucy spoke up, carrying a stack of papers out of the room. "In my experience, 'memorable' is usually just a polite way of saying things were horrible." "In that case, it was the most 'memorable' night of my life," Bobby said to Lindsay. She leaned in close to him. "I'm sorry. I'll come over tonight... we'll see if I can wipe all those bad memories away." He smiled at her. "Hey, Lindsay... next time?" Bobby began, "let *me* plan these events." AUTHOR'S NOTES This story takes place on March 17 and 18, 1999, and is historically accurate. ---Albert |