Max Celis mumbled few curses when a disturbing rattles and various thuds breached the silence of his inner world of labour. Being a district attorney and dealing with most sensitive cases—plus yanking his body just to make himself awake till wee hours—stresses him a lot. Close to isolate, silence is what he needs today. Did he assure to mark that on everyone's head this morning, or since yesterday's morning, or all through the year, perhaps? He did and that's why there's a twenty-six inch sign board that says 'Quiet Please'. Wasn't that too difficult to understand? Is there any part of that word was too hard to identify with? No. He doesn't think so—because even a dim-witted person could figure that out.
But there's some people love to break protocols. And Max considered them as morons. But the fact that 'quiet please' is not a written to obey, all you have to do is to plaster them everywhere in the building just to make sure the word sinks in.
But he thinks this person, whatever their name was, is immature...or simply illiterate. Or maybe his previews or want to be clients was the one who bangs every desk outside to catch his attention. Nothing registered inside his brain though, because as far as he could remember, he has no appointment today.
Or so he thought.
The loud noise ascended. It keeps getting closer and closer. His head started to pound now and he can't imagine himself dealing with an immoderate individual even if they demanded.
Let Megan deal with it...
But the Megan girl was the one who created the shouting...
Max wouldn't let that pass. Max shouldn't let that pass. He will give her a memo later. He can't lose his concentration now that he needs to review all the case files his annoying opponent had countered towards his client.
Unless the noise would stop, he can't go back to his privacy and concentration. And that would make him very upset.
However, how much he prayed, the bad news is... it didn't subside. Now he is beyond upset. Too upset to strangle someone.
Before he could call out his assistant to explain what all that ruckus was all about, his eyes were caught on an image of a five-foot-ten, dark-haired, gray-eyed woman wearing faded jeans and a pin-stripe brown corduroy jacket, dashing towards his office followed by his stuttered, four-foot-eleven, young and petite lady assistant named Megan.
Sam...
"Well, that made sense..." he mumbled while looking at the so familiar being marching across the hall. He noticed behind glass walls, from where he's sitting, she looked really, really pissed—fuming! Her grimaced-face, her slightly clenching jaw, gloomy eyes and lazily tied hair, with few strands escaping, covering half of her beautiful face—as if like she just encountered with a two hundred miles per hour wind few minutes before she stepped inside the building—speaks volume of how typical 'pissed off' rolled into one looks like.
Did she come here from a bus?
Obviously, having a friend like her since gradeschool days, Max was perfectly aware of Sam's character as easily as one-two-three. He can't decide whether to laugh or laugh harder from the comical scene he was witnessing from the two David and Goliath. He even snorted a little when his secretary tried to block her own small body against the tall woman by the door—only to be shoved out-of-the-way.
"Ma'am, please..." The assistant protested when Sam blurted the door open. "I'm sorry... but Mr. Celis says he doesn't want to be disturbed."
Sam ignored her spreading arms and glared at the man sitting behind the desk, and then back to her. "For a hundred times, I told you get out of my way."
"No, Ma'am. I can't let you..."
"Do you know who I am?"
"What's wrong, Megan?" Max saw the small woman shivered a little hearing only his baritone voice. "Does my simple instruction confuse you?"
The small woman twisted only to hold the threshold and then smiled pleadingly. "My apologies, sir Celis. But she... she just... burst in!" She tried and tried to be convincible but she knew her boss was not that convinced. Avoiding those amber eyes, she burrowed her head slowly. "Sorry sir—I..."
"Nevermind." Max snapped at her. "I supposed you can handle simple situation such as this one next time."
"Yes sir... sorry sir... it won't happen again." She immediately raised her arm across to block the way again when she sensed the tall woman was about to pass the door. "I told you, he doesn't..."
"Megan?"
"Sir?" she snapped her head back.
"Clearly from your size, Ms. Goliath here has an ability to break your neck in a snap. So if you value your life dearly, would you mind stepping aside and let her in?"
The small woman hesitated first but then retreat her hand back and let Sam walked inside the office door. She stared at the tall woman with angry eyes as Sam passed by. She was been criticize and having the one to blame for this haughty being for doing her own job. Megan assured herself it will never happen again. And if it did, Megan will definitely reach those gray eyes and snatch it out to from its sockets even if he had to use a ladder.
Max stared on both females in front of him. Sam looks impatient while his employee is preparing to bite her head off. He must do something before his miniature-pincher creates something she will regret for the rest of her life.
"Megan?"
"Sir?"
"Hold your leash."
"Sir?"
"Tight your..." he bit his lower lip and closed the case folder he's been studying since last night. "What I mean is, don't bother. I'm sure this is an emergency. And while you're here, would you please bring me the Odana files..." he glanced at his notes, "the Senya, and the... WetWorks... and oh, call Gil for me..." he noticed Sam arched a brow upon hearing that certain name, but Max has no plans to heed on it. "Tell him I'll be late in an hour..." Sam faked a cough—Max frowned, "...make that two."
"Yes sir..." Megan nodded and then haughtily raised her eyes at Sam. "Would you like something to drink, ma'am? Coffee... tea..." Cyanide, perhaps?
"Uh-uh," Max waves both of his hands. "No drinks for her. The last time she held a mug, she throws it on somebody's desk—my desk, to be precise. There's a water dispenser outside. If she's thirsty, she'll know. Get me the files I need. That would be all."
The secretary blinked. Where was she when that happens? Shrugging away the thought, she turned around with a question mark inside her head, and absently left the door open. Sighing, Max stood up and does her the honor afterwards. For sure, if Sam Manella was here, inside Max's office, there will be another chaos before lunch time, and that would be another humiliation for a top-notch lawyer in town if the door was left open for everyone to see.
Apparently, as always, Sam needs a little privacy for her banter and tantrums, so why bother. "Sorry, she's new." Max said, regarding his assistant.
"I noticed. You never gave me a chance to use my colourful and very persuasive vocabularies on her. What happened to the other one, anyway?"
"Distracted... but still sane... all because of you." Max answered sarcastically. "Lucky for you, you didn't get any restraining order from me."
"Oh for god sakes, I never intend to assault her."
"You call 'slapping the face of my former assistant twice' was an accident? It took me days to convince her that."
Max sat down and gestured at Sam to do it as well. He pulled a folder from a stack of mounted files and then browsed its content... again. "So, before I could come up with another stupid justification to my employee... again, about who you are and what you can do when you're pissed, would you mind telling what are you doing here? You supposed to be in Hong Kong, am I right?"
Sam sat down onto her favorite chair, Therapeutic chair as she calls it, and slacked there. "I was just... dropping by."
"Yeah right." Max snickered dryly. "Since when you have the audacity of visiting me without dropping a bomb and not looking like that..." he eyed her hair again, "and where's your car, anyway?"
"Parking lot, why?"
"Nothing."
She studied him for a moment then looked away. When he was about to pull another file Sam mumbled something under her breath while circling her fingers onto her temple. Max could tell by noting her friend's behaviour and by 'oh I feel like shit' face. Max stood up and took a box of cigarette from the drawer then grabbed an ashtray from the cabinet and quickly opened his large window. Though this was monotonous, he preferred to have his office 'smoke free'. But everytime Sam busted his office wearing her face like that, he rather indulged her with the habits—at least for a smoke; hard liquor is another matter. The last time Max declined her pleading, it took him a week to find an interior decorator.
"Did you have a fight with Dean again?" Max had to ask, though vaguely see her true intention. He knew the answer was always yes when Sam and her husband had an issue that always ends up worst. And the worst-iest part of all this was Max will surely carry an extra bag all the way home before sunset.
Though however having a pragmatic-slash-delusional friend was a capital punishment for Max, still he has no heart to decline her friend. So why having second thoughts for asking questions like this one? Whatever the reason was, his flat will incessantly open for negotiation.
"Sam?" he called again.
"What?"
"I said did you two have a fight?"
No reply.
"So you two had a fight."
Sam rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, bone-head, we didn't. Dean is not here, he's in LA."
"Well, in that case, I might choose to believe you do just dropping by... on the other hand, what you did earlier with my assistant... I find that very hard to believe."
"Don't start," Sam glared at him when she felt his friend had a double meaning. "Please."
Max tilted his head and crossed his arms. "Don't start, you say? Let me remind you that you're inhibiting my office. As in now. Uninformed, without a phone call first, giving me hint to brace myself for some surprise news from you. And if I ignored it, which I doubt it, you will give me an option between 'I will scream at you all night, asshole' or 'listen to me'. So what can I do? Of course I choose the latter. But it was unfair leaving a foul smell inside my office later on as a departed gift, right? However, I am soooo letting you have the freedom with my authority about your habit, because I am your friend... wait—that would understatement. Shall I call it a slave?" he smiled, placing his hand beneath his chin. "Anyway, all I ask is for you is to thank me in return for yielding my ear, assaulting of my assistant, and using this office as a non-smoking-room-slash-oops-I-changed-my-mind instead of slapping me with that bullshit."
Sam was startled. It took her a moment to realize her mouth was hanging open. "Wow... you, did that well."
"I practiced." Max turned around and pulled his chair. He grabbed his law book and started to write down notes. "I have a trial in an hour, Sam, and I've been up all night... unless you take pity on me and wiped that smug from that face of yours and spare me the whining, it will be good for both parties."
Sam stared at him then to the small box and ashtray, then back to Max. "Okay, I'll spare your office this time."
"Thank you." Max said wryly and continued to his writing. "So, talk."
"I didn't go to Hong Kong." Sam almost laughed when she saw Max snapped his head up, making him look ridiculous. "Nor hell either."
"Wha..."
"As a matter of fact, I never left."
"Why? I thought you..."
Sam drew closer and holds his gazed. "I quit the job..." she whispered.
"You what?" Max nearly shouted, as if there's another head sprouting from his shoulder. "Are you out of your freaking mind?"
"No, asshole, I said I quit the job. I dropped their offer. I never said I quit my job because that would be stupid, wouldn't you think? I won't let any fuckhead ruined what I work for again."
"If you come here and ask me to be your lawyer because you dense yourself in extortion, I'll smack your head."
"Well... that would be thoughtful. But of course that's not the reason why I am here."
Max stared at him... a very long one. "I assume this is not some-sort of a set up for some dating game again."
"Oh no, I gave that up." Sam waved a hand. "Obviously, 'I am gay' is written all over your forehead."
Max ignored that. But clearly he was irritated by that remark. "Then what a fuck are you doing here?
"Ooh, such a language." Sam laughed. "Is that how you lawyers ask the man in question?"
"Sam..."
"Oh alright..." she gave up finally. "I just need an advice."
"I'm a lawyer, Sam, not your therapist. I suck in advice. Unless you've killed someone, I might change my mind."
Sam lowered her head and sighed. "I have no one else to turn to..." she murmured, her voice sounded upset. Well base on what Max saw earlier, maybe it's true. She did indeed need someone to talk to. Not that he's complaining—but yeah, sometimes—however, he was pleased, having him as her trusted friend.
Max waited for a while for Sam to spill it out.
And so she did.
"He called."
"Who called?"
It was the longest three seconds of holding ones breath, and even with the help of that, she can't even mentioned the person's name.
Max studied her for a moment. "Oh...oh!" his eyes widened slightly. "Really? No shit."
Tears start to fall from the gray-eyed friend. And that was the signal he is all been waiting for. "Megan..." he said, pressing the intercom. "Cancel my meeting with Gil this afternoon. I have to do something after the trial. Tell him, I'll see him tomorrow." He looked back at Sam and her pleading eyes. "And I think we need a beer here. And I mean now!"
She's getting bored. How can be a courtroom drama be so damn exciting when you're sitting in a long bench for two hours, watching two lawyers, a judge that looks like a grim-reaper, few police officers—sleeping with their eyes open, and a bunch of jurors with their weird faces, exchanging glances like a ping-pong rackets, making the witness felt like a ping-pong ball. Sam was new to this world of Max and, for the first, dragged her here without a second thought. If she truly needs her friend's attention right now, she had to do something stupid as watching every nonsense whining and listening to some gibberish words which they called 'article' that made her nose bleed.
Well, this wasn't bad than sitting somewhere at some bar and beat her brains out for the man who called her last week. And it wasn't a good idea seeing her daughter running around the house while contemplating her wild sexcapades fourteen years ago. Good thing Dean's not here either, because that would be soooo not good. Though she can't deal with her husband's attitude, she still thinks it would be immoral having a different man inside her coconut head whilst saying his name.
So, she decided to stay here with Max to entertain herself. True it was boring; she can't understand the word they're saying. The battle between rape and murder irked her a lot, and she can't understand why Max electrifies himself on this one. Maybe he's kinky.
Her friend was the best damn lawyer she ever known. Well, he is the only lawyer she ever known. Winning complicated cases for the last six years—how's that for kinky one! Funny, though Max audacious toned body, biceps, triceps and all, combined with his six-foot-one height can be intimidating, but she can't figure it out why she's the only one who can intimidate him.
Proper respect for a friend or he just considered her as a retard? Whatever. Max was so damn sexy with his D&G suit, anyway. His pale skin emphasized it all. Wonder what he looks like when he's naked?
Damn, Gil—whoever you are, you're one lucky bastard.
Sam chuckled on that thought—but only to receive a low quick shush from the old lady sitting three persons from her.
Whattah fuck... they actually listened to this crap?
Sam shifted a little, away from the old bitch's heated eyes. If she had a chance to scream at her later, she'll be delighted to. But before she could smack someone's head, Maximillian Celis' amber eyes were narrowing at her right now. His friend knew how Sam looks like when she's annoyed. And when Sam gets annoyed, you have to do something before she explodes.
He handled the situation by giving her a wink, held his forefinger onto his own lips, and silently saying... shut it, least for once! Or I will go there and shut it for you.
Gawking, Sam mumbled few audible words then slumped back at her seat.
Moments later, as in she had this urge to strangle anyone who breathes in this room—Max included, she tapped her forefinger to the person sitting by next to her. "When's the recess?" she whispered, searching for the clock—if there was one, it should be there somewhere. "There should be a recess, right?"
"Ssssh..." is the only answered she gets coming from... you guessed it!
"Am I talking to you?" she said behind gritted teeth.
"Ehem..." warned by the uniformed-man which stood behind her... right now. She just smiled and politely salutes him in return.
"Just be patient," said the concerned woman beside her, whispering. "The court will be adjourned in any minute."
"Are they always like this? I mean... I know this is important but, don't they need to pee or something?"
The woman smiled and tapped her hand on Sam's forearms. "They have no time for that."
"Well, I do!"
BAM! BAM!
"Silence!" the judge said while pounding that fucking-looking hammer, eyeing at the row where the noise came from. Sam bit her lower lip and shrank herself to her seat. That judge was giving me a creep. When the commotion descends, all audiences set their attention back towards the witness from the stand. Sam, who can do nothing but share the same fate with the witness, forced her eyes on the lawyer wearing the D&G suit strolling down in front of the jurors telling this and that, obviously winning their favor by his calm demeanour plus striking good looks. Sam was contemplating the scenery for the moment when suddenly a flash of thought punched her to the face.
Well, not really, but it fucking felt like it.
"SHIT!"
And then all hell breaks loose.
"Silence!" shouted by the judge... again, while hammering that fucking-looking hammer... again. Max widened eyes speaks volume, enough to make Sam cover her mouth. "Young lady," said the judge-slash-grim reaper, "this is a courthouse, not a chatterbox! If you can't hold yourself, please leave the room."
Sam sensed all eyes on her. She forward a little to make herself visible. "S—sorry..." she started, clearly embarrassed. "I thought I saw... a rat, your honor. Please, don't mind me. You... you may proceed." And then she glanced sideways totheold lady who was pissing her a while ago. "If you don't wipe away that sneer from that face of yours, I swear I'll shove that cane into your ass!" She hissed.
The session carried on and consumed another half an hour till it was adjourned. Sam almost flew towards the door and went straight to the parking lot.
"Way to go, Sam." Max said, opening the car door. "I should have known..."
"I'm sorry," she said, vaguely raising her hand in front of her. "I didn't mean to...do that. I just remember something I had to do this morning."
"Like what? You forgot to humiliate me? Let me remind you, dear, you already did! You've been doing that since we're kids, Sam. It's a reflex of yours. And what the hell is wrong with you, cursing inside the courthouse while in session and menacing the elderly like that?"
"Hey, I just got two-in-a-half hours of mental shock back there! What do you expect? Dance of joy? If I only knew this session would make my ass flat, I shouldn't have come!"
"Keep your voice down—get in the car."
"And if my ass sores tonight, I will never ever talk to you again!"
"Really? You will leave me alone?" he teased.
Sam glare back.
Max snorted and opened the passenger side. "Come on," he said, "let's get out of here before someone sues you."
"Where're we going?"
"Coffee."
"Coffee? I waited for you more than three hours and you only offer me coffee?"
"Well, if you behave enough, I let you by me a beer," he laughed. "You owe me one."
"Shut up."
