Work Text:
Res Ipsa Loquitur
by MJ
I hadn't seen her since the death penalty case we'd handled in Texas. I'd kissed her then; at the time, we'd taken it, I suppose, as a token that more might betide if we met again.
Now I was in the hallway of the courthouse, shilling for her to join me on a racial profiling case, when my cell phone rang. I looked at the number before answering; she didn't believe me when I said, "It's my lover" and followed that with "Hello, Denny" as I answered his call.
I suppose she thought that when the case was over, we wouldn't be.
It wasn't until I kissed her farewell in the courtroom - carefully, gently, perhaps a bit nostalgically, as if remembering what might have been, if only..., that she understood.