Abyss (R) (Smash) Part 18
Title: Abyss
Author: blackpoetcat
Rating: R
Character: Derek Wills
Disclaimer: NBC owns all, just playing drama with
Summary: Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,
Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17
Abyss - 18
Everyone turned to the courtroom’s entrance, where a man who had obviously just arrived now slowly approached the marked off area. His eyes were locked with Derek’s who stared at a man he’d never met. But despite the fact his mind was absolutely certain of that, his body reacted completely opposite to the smooth voice, the caring gaze and the apologetic smile. A slight shiver ran down his spine, he even felt a tiny twitch in his groin.
“Who are you?” Judge Salamon inquired when the man stopped between defence and prosecution. “And why do you contend that the accused is not responsible for the victim’s death?”
“Because during the essential time, Mr. Wills was with me. Therefore, I am his alibi,” the stranger declared. “My name is Alexander Flynn.”
Of course this statement raised a sudden wave of surprised sounds and even shouts until the judge slammed her gavel and demanded silence. “And why didn’t you say so at the time of Mr. Wills’ arrest? It has not exactly gone unnoticed by the media.”
Flynn presented some kind of logbook.
“I have been on my annual long sailing trip and just came back today. You can check my log and the port authority’s registries of departure and arrival.”
Salamon gestured to the clerk who fetched the log from Flynn and handed it over to her. After she had studied the entries, she gave it back and pronounced: “Mr. Wills, return to your place; Mr. Flynn, you will take the stand.”
Derek couldn’t take his eyes from his rescuer. Though he was still confused about his physical reactions towards Flynn, he could not deny that the man was attractive, especially now with his sea-tanned face and sun-bleached hair. They exchanged a short smile when Derek passed him on his way to the defendant’s seat, and again he felt that unusual and distracting sensation in his nether region which was even more confusing.
After Flynn was sworn in, he started to explain: “Well, as I said -- I returned today and instantly drove over to my bar, to check on everything, and my employee told me about the crime in our neighbourhood.”
“You own a bar near the crime scene? But not the ‘Box Seat’,” Nichols interrupted with knitted brows.
“No, the ‘Raven’,” Flynn corrected. “As I learned from my employee, it’s almost across the street from that poor girl’s apartment house.”
“What?” Now it was Bellamy who interjected and turned to the detectives. “Didn’t you say you checked the whole neighbourhood?”
“Of course,” Shaw stated, visibly insulted. “My men went into every house, asked...”
“Er...”
He stopped when his partner Connelly cleared his throat. “What?”
“The ‘Raven’ is a well-known gay bar. Why should we have bothered to ask there for him of all people?” Connelly said with a shrug, causing Nichols to roll his eyes and break his pen in obvious frustration.
“I see,” Bellamy remarked and shook his head. “So you seriously thought that my client, who is a stranger to Boston except for some theatres, hotels and restaurants, is supposed to know which bar is appropriate for him and which is not. Very professional investigation methods, gentlemen!”
Again the audience became louder until the gavel slammed down while Derek buried his face in his hands, for he could not believe what he just had heard. Was it even possible that he had spent two and a half months in jail because a detective had felt free to judge whether or not he cared where to get a drink?
“Silence! Please continue, Mr. Flynn.”
“Of course. It was around twenty-five minutes to two and I was cleaning up for closing when Mr. Wills entered the ‘Raven’. He was not in very good condition, already drunk and obviously upset. At first I considered sending him away, but the expression in his eyes... He looked haunted, confused,” said Flynn, and Derek finally looked up to lock eyes with him again.
“I made clear that he would get only one drink and he agreed, so I served him a Scotch. After a healthy sip and some encouragement he told me that he had just left a very frustrated and angry girl behind. She seemed to have expected at least a few hours company when they agreed on a one night stand, but when they... well, started to exchange courtesies, he felt uncomfortable with the whole situation, quickened the pace and dressed right after he was finished. Of course she became angry, even tried to stop him but her attempt only led to a deep scratch. He also mentioned that she slammed her door after he’d slipped out.”
The murmuring rose again and for the first time since Flynn’s appearance, Derek dared to look at Tracy’s parents. Though they still seemed hesitant to trust the unexpected witness, he felt less anxious with their emotions now and breathed deeply before he focused back on Flynn.
“I had planned to sleep on my yacht that last night before departure anyway, so I offered Derek... I mean Mr. Wills... a ride to his hotel. After some last cleaning issues we left the ‘Raven’ around a quarter past two. I had to fetch my packed things yet, so we first drove to my apartment, and then I dropped him at his hotel and finally went to the yacht port.”
“Wait a moment,” Nichols cut into the whispers of the audience. “How far is your apartment from the bar?”
“Barely ten minutes at that time of night.”
“And from there to the hotel?”
“Maybe fifteen...”
For the first time, Derek noticed a kind of nervousness, a slight uncertainty in Flynn’s testimony and he started to wonder what he might be hiding, because to him everything seemed logical. Except...
“Interesting; then why did you need more than one and a half hours to get there? It's been established that the defendant arrived at his hotel a few minutes past four!”
Silence fell over the whole courtroom and though he stared at Flynn himself, Derek was well aware of the fact that everyone else was doing the same. Again, they looked at each other; a strange feeling of familiarity rushed through every fibre of Derek’s body and before Flynn confessed the reason for the delay he knew.
“Sorry, Derek. I had hoped to avoid it, but...“ Flynn hesitated only seconds and then continued: “He accompanied me to my apartment, we talked... and...”
He inhaled deeply, as did Derek.
“I felt attracted to him the moment he entered the bar, and when he started to relax he reacted to me, too. Physically, I mean. So...”
Again, Flynn paused and pressed his lips, shifting slightly around on his seat while he tried to avoid Derek’s view.
“We’re anxious for the rest of your story, Mr. Flynn,” Nichols prompted and given the malicious tone in the prosecutor’s voice, Derek could swear he was still eager to cause as much damage to him as possible, contrary to Alex, who obviously felt quite uncomfortable with sharing any details of what had happened between them. But when Judge Salamon firmly added “Go on, Mr. Flynn”, it was absolutely clear that he had no choice.
“We....” Flynn swallowed visibly and cleared his throat before he finally confessed: “We touched, and we kissed.... and... we were... intimate.”
The sharp breath from behind him must have been Tom’s, Derek was certain of that. But he didn’t turn to his friend, he still held eye contact with the man who just had saved him -- and in the process shattered whatever had been left of his reputation. But to his utter astonishment, Derek didn’t care. The pure thought of what they had obviously shared made him shiver in a way he was not used to, but remembered far too well to deny. Even if it was an eternity since he had tried to destroy it with every weapon he could get...
It was Bellamy who finally broke the silence.
“Mr. Flynn. Did you see anyone when you left the ‘Raven’ with my client?”
“Oh, er... I...” Flynn shook his head after he pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly trying to concentrate while his gaze started to wander across the room. “No, I... Wait, yes! Derek was already in the car, I locked the bar entrance, and then... there was a man, vomiting into a storm drain! And... it was him!”
With a clearly surprised expression Flynn pointed to someone in the audience. Derek’s and everyone else’s view followed -- and the very next moment, when Derek recognized him, dumbfounded, the man jumped from his seat and ran for the door.
Continued in Part 19
Author: blackpoetcat
Rating: R
Character: Derek Wills
Disclaimer: NBC owns all, just playing drama with
Summary: Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,
Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17
Abyss - 18
Everyone turned to the courtroom’s entrance, where a man who had obviously just arrived now slowly approached the marked off area. His eyes were locked with Derek’s who stared at a man he’d never met. But despite the fact his mind was absolutely certain of that, his body reacted completely opposite to the smooth voice, the caring gaze and the apologetic smile. A slight shiver ran down his spine, he even felt a tiny twitch in his groin.
“Who are you?” Judge Salamon inquired when the man stopped between defence and prosecution. “And why do you contend that the accused is not responsible for the victim’s death?”
“Because during the essential time, Mr. Wills was with me. Therefore, I am his alibi,” the stranger declared. “My name is Alexander Flynn.”
Of course this statement raised a sudden wave of surprised sounds and even shouts until the judge slammed her gavel and demanded silence. “And why didn’t you say so at the time of Mr. Wills’ arrest? It has not exactly gone unnoticed by the media.”
Flynn presented some kind of logbook.
“I have been on my annual long sailing trip and just came back today. You can check my log and the port authority’s registries of departure and arrival.”
Salamon gestured to the clerk who fetched the log from Flynn and handed it over to her. After she had studied the entries, she gave it back and pronounced: “Mr. Wills, return to your place; Mr. Flynn, you will take the stand.”
Derek couldn’t take his eyes from his rescuer. Though he was still confused about his physical reactions towards Flynn, he could not deny that the man was attractive, especially now with his sea-tanned face and sun-bleached hair. They exchanged a short smile when Derek passed him on his way to the defendant’s seat, and again he felt that unusual and distracting sensation in his nether region which was even more confusing.
After Flynn was sworn in, he started to explain: “Well, as I said -- I returned today and instantly drove over to my bar, to check on everything, and my employee told me about the crime in our neighbourhood.”
“You own a bar near the crime scene? But not the ‘Box Seat’,” Nichols interrupted with knitted brows.
“No, the ‘Raven’,” Flynn corrected. “As I learned from my employee, it’s almost across the street from that poor girl’s apartment house.”
“What?” Now it was Bellamy who interjected and turned to the detectives. “Didn’t you say you checked the whole neighbourhood?”
“Of course,” Shaw stated, visibly insulted. “My men went into every house, asked...”
“Er...”
He stopped when his partner Connelly cleared his throat. “What?”
“The ‘Raven’ is a well-known gay bar. Why should we have bothered to ask there for him of all people?” Connelly said with a shrug, causing Nichols to roll his eyes and break his pen in obvious frustration.
“I see,” Bellamy remarked and shook his head. “So you seriously thought that my client, who is a stranger to Boston except for some theatres, hotels and restaurants, is supposed to know which bar is appropriate for him and which is not. Very professional investigation methods, gentlemen!”
Again the audience became louder until the gavel slammed down while Derek buried his face in his hands, for he could not believe what he just had heard. Was it even possible that he had spent two and a half months in jail because a detective had felt free to judge whether or not he cared where to get a drink?
“Silence! Please continue, Mr. Flynn.”
“Of course. It was around twenty-five minutes to two and I was cleaning up for closing when Mr. Wills entered the ‘Raven’. He was not in very good condition, already drunk and obviously upset. At first I considered sending him away, but the expression in his eyes... He looked haunted, confused,” said Flynn, and Derek finally looked up to lock eyes with him again.
“I made clear that he would get only one drink and he agreed, so I served him a Scotch. After a healthy sip and some encouragement he told me that he had just left a very frustrated and angry girl behind. She seemed to have expected at least a few hours company when they agreed on a one night stand, but when they... well, started to exchange courtesies, he felt uncomfortable with the whole situation, quickened the pace and dressed right after he was finished. Of course she became angry, even tried to stop him but her attempt only led to a deep scratch. He also mentioned that she slammed her door after he’d slipped out.”
The murmuring rose again and for the first time since Flynn’s appearance, Derek dared to look at Tracy’s parents. Though they still seemed hesitant to trust the unexpected witness, he felt less anxious with their emotions now and breathed deeply before he focused back on Flynn.
“I had planned to sleep on my yacht that last night before departure anyway, so I offered Derek... I mean Mr. Wills... a ride to his hotel. After some last cleaning issues we left the ‘Raven’ around a quarter past two. I had to fetch my packed things yet, so we first drove to my apartment, and then I dropped him at his hotel and finally went to the yacht port.”
“Wait a moment,” Nichols cut into the whispers of the audience. “How far is your apartment from the bar?”
“Barely ten minutes at that time of night.”
“And from there to the hotel?”
“Maybe fifteen...”
For the first time, Derek noticed a kind of nervousness, a slight uncertainty in Flynn’s testimony and he started to wonder what he might be hiding, because to him everything seemed logical. Except...
“Interesting; then why did you need more than one and a half hours to get there? It's been established that the defendant arrived at his hotel a few minutes past four!”
Silence fell over the whole courtroom and though he stared at Flynn himself, Derek was well aware of the fact that everyone else was doing the same. Again, they looked at each other; a strange feeling of familiarity rushed through every fibre of Derek’s body and before Flynn confessed the reason for the delay he knew.
“Sorry, Derek. I had hoped to avoid it, but...“ Flynn hesitated only seconds and then continued: “He accompanied me to my apartment, we talked... and...”
He inhaled deeply, as did Derek.
“I felt attracted to him the moment he entered the bar, and when he started to relax he reacted to me, too. Physically, I mean. So...”
Again, Flynn paused and pressed his lips, shifting slightly around on his seat while he tried to avoid Derek’s view.
“We’re anxious for the rest of your story, Mr. Flynn,” Nichols prompted and given the malicious tone in the prosecutor’s voice, Derek could swear he was still eager to cause as much damage to him as possible, contrary to Alex, who obviously felt quite uncomfortable with sharing any details of what had happened between them. But when Judge Salamon firmly added “Go on, Mr. Flynn”, it was absolutely clear that he had no choice.
“We....” Flynn swallowed visibly and cleared his throat before he finally confessed: “We touched, and we kissed.... and... we were... intimate.”
The sharp breath from behind him must have been Tom’s, Derek was certain of that. But he didn’t turn to his friend, he still held eye contact with the man who just had saved him -- and in the process shattered whatever had been left of his reputation. But to his utter astonishment, Derek didn’t care. The pure thought of what they had obviously shared made him shiver in a way he was not used to, but remembered far too well to deny. Even if it was an eternity since he had tried to destroy it with every weapon he could get...
It was Bellamy who finally broke the silence.
“Mr. Flynn. Did you see anyone when you left the ‘Raven’ with my client?”
“Oh, er... I...” Flynn shook his head after he pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly trying to concentrate while his gaze started to wander across the room. “No, I... Wait, yes! Derek was already in the car, I locked the bar entrance, and then... there was a man, vomiting into a storm drain! And... it was him!”
With a clearly surprised expression Flynn pointed to someone in the audience. Derek’s and everyone else’s view followed -- and the very next moment, when Derek recognized him, dumbfounded, the man jumped from his seat and ran for the door.
Continued in Part 19