Alesha (Law & Order: UK)
Title: Alesha
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Alesha/James, George, Phyllis Gladstone
Rating: R (for discussions of rape)
Spoilers: Law & Order: UK up to 1.07
Summary: James and Alesha deal with a very personal case.
Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK.
Author Notes: This is probably the angstiest fic I've written for these two, and definitely the hardest. It's the seventh in a series of tag fics for the TV series (I haven't yet written/posted all the preceding ones).
Beta: The generous fourzoas
~~~~~~
James waits until George has led Ronnie and Matt away for their spurious cups of tea before he steps into Alesha's doorway. Now he's seen the tape, he's wondering what on earth he can say to her. He feels nauseous and heartsick, but he knows he has to behave in a professional manner, even though he feels like behaving in a thoroughly unprofessional way (his strongest desire is to find Merrick and thump him).
"That's a first," Alesha says when she finally looks up at him. He cocks his head enquiringly, uncertain of her meaning. "George, entertaining," she elaborates.
He realises that she's waiting for something from him, so he walks around her desk and crouches down beside it, resting his forearm along the top so that they're at eye-level. It's all he can do to hold back from pulling her into his arms, but that would be inappropriate, and he's not sure she'd want it. Part of him makes a mental note to look up information on rape, and contact Dr Rawls, so he can try to find out how he can help her. Looking at her, seeing how fragile she looks without her usual subtle make-up or brightly coloured cardigan, he senses that she's close to breaking point.
"Did you watch it?" she asks, her voice low and shaky, her eyes downcast.
He misses the way she usually meets his eyes; her own are normally full of intelligence and determination, and often compassion for the victims whom they try to assist. But he understands that she must feel embarrassed, if not outright ashamed, knowing that he's just watched someone violating her. He swallows, his throat feeling constricted by the anger he's holding back. He needs, and Alesha needs him, to be strong and professional about this. He briefly wonders why she came in today, when George had given her a leave of absence. "Yes."
"What are you going to do?" she asks.
"I can't talk about it," he tells her, knowing that this won't deflect her: she's asking as someone who wants reassurance from her friend, and he's going to have to walk a tightrope here; while it's one he's walked often before, that doesn't make this any easier.
"What - are you - going - to do?" She forces the words out, and he can hear her fear that he won't help her.
"There were traces of GHB in your samples," he answers.
Her expression lightens with her relief. "Then we've got him."
"It's not that simple." She looks at him and he sighs internally, then tells her what she already knows from the other rape cases they've handled. "He asked if you wanted a nurse in the room, and you said no." That had shaken him, when he'd watched the film, and he knew how it would look to the average jury who didn't know Alesha. After all, he knows her, and he can't understand why she'd said no when this man had already assaulted her once.
"You went back there after he'd assaulted you. He's going to be in the witness box, claiming you wanted it." It hurts him to say these things, but it's his duty to remind her. He's worked on the defence side, he knows the sort of arguments a defence lawyer would make, and that a good one could probably get Merrick off.
"To be drugged and raped?" she asks disbelievingly.
He forces himself to say the unwelcome words. "To incriminate him."
Alesha looks away from him, clearly disappointed; he wants to ask her what possessed her to go back there a second time, particularly armed with a camera. It was such an uncharacteristically foolhardy thing for her to do. He thought she knew better, and he wonders, fleetingly, if there's something she hasn't yet told him about this situation.
"Less than six percent of reported rape cases which go to trial - "
"I know the statistics," she interrupts. "I have to do this, and you have to prosecute him."
He watches her closely, noticing the way she's not meeting his eyes, which doesn't make his next words any easier. "We have a personal relationship," he reminds her, his heart aching. They were more than work colleagues, and more than friends too, he felt, even if they'd only exchanged kisses.
"Please," she pleads, almost crying now, and once again he's fighting his instinct to reach out and hold her. "I have to know that what I went through was worth it."
"Oh no, don't, don't say that," he begs, anguished.
She looks at him now, and he can see her anger asserting itself, and he wonders if she's thinking of him as her friend or as the chief prosecutor for the CPS. "You're always telling me we should fight for the victim. I am the victim." Her voice breaks. "Fight for me."
He bites his lip, torn between duty and friendship, as too often before. His mind flashes back to Faruk's accusations which still hurt months later, then he nods. "Okay."
She begins to cry. "Thank you."
He reaches across her desk and pulls a handful of tissues from the box. "Here." He folds them into her hand, squeezing her fingers, then gets to his feet. "You should go back home," he tells her, guessing that she won't. "I need to talk to George."
She nods, and he goes out. He feels bad about leaving her weeping and hurting, but he has to try to maintain some semblance of emotional distance, and he knows that won't happen if he stays in her office.
* * * * * *
George insists on taking a walk to get some fresh air, and James agrees readily. He feels that he might be able to think better outside: his office feels haunted at the moment, and he wishes they'd watched that tape in one of the conference rooms instead.
"What was Alesha thinking?" George demands as they walk beside the river. "Playing Nancy bloody Drew?"
"She didn't want him getting away with the assault," James answers automatically, but he's been wondering the same thing. He can't escape the nagging feeling that there must be more to it than that Alesha was unhappy with the police investigation into her initial complaint.
"He may get away with a whole lot more now. He's got Phyllis Gladstone as his defence barrister."
"Great!" James' response is heavy with bitterness as he recalls other cases they've fought against her. Phyllis may be a champion of women's rights, but she's quite capable of arguing a defence case for Merrick if she puts her mind to it. He hasn't forgotten her attempted defence of Emma Sandbrook, who had claimed to be raped to avoid being tried for murder.
"We know what she'll argue: a woman has the foresight to record her own rape? Looks like she expected it. Instigated it. Tempted an otherwise innocent man." George is still angry.
"He's not innocent," James answers, leaping to Alesha's defence. "He drugged her. You've seen the tape."
"I didn't see him force drugs on her. We're gonna have to prove that he has the propensity to commit sex crimes or he walks! He's a very eminent doctor, James. Why did she have to go and get herself raped?" he demands explosively. "I mean, how stupid can you be?"
"It's done," James answers, forcing down his own anger at George's comments. "It's happened, so now we have to deal with it." Although he wonders how they'll deal with it and, selfishly, what effect it'll have on his fledgling relationship with Alesha. While they hadn't yet become lovers, he felt sure they had been on the verge of taking that step.
"She'll go through Hell in that witness box," George says, interrupting his reverie, his tone more moderate now.
"She's already there," James answers, knowing that he has to find a way to help her out of that Hell.
* * * * * *
When Phyllis comes in to prepare for the trial, James can't resist trying to reach her, even though he's fairly sure the effort will be futile.
"How can you defend that man?"
"Easy," she answers. "Cab rank principle."
"You bang on to the press about the rights of women who hit back at their abusers," he says.
"I'm doing this for them. Women who cry 'rape' spit in the eye of the genuine victims."
"Alesha is a genuine victim," he answers, feeling his anger growing. He wonders how Phyllis can believe otherwise.
"Judge Silverton doesn't think so. Why else would he grant our application for reporting restrictions," she answers confidently.
"Dr Merrick treats MPs," retorts James. "There's no other agenda. You saw that tape!"
"She didn't fight, she didn't scream," Phyllis replies, her tone casual.
"Because she was drugged," he says, hardly able to believe this is her line of argument.
"That was her idea, to put her in the mood." She gives him a look that's probably meant to be flirtatious, but he feels revolted.
"You are kidding me!"
"GHB has been used for recreational purposes for years," Phyllis answers.
"Not by Alesha," he says emphatically. He knows for a fact that she's never touched drugs because she'd told him how a friend of hers had her drink spiked with Ecstasy at a party and almost died as a result.
He tries to get through to this woman. "He spiked her water, and then he raped her. She was badly bruised, Phyllis." He's disgusted at her cavalier attitude, and how little concern she shows for Alesha, someone with whom she has worked in the past and will have to work with again in the future. He wonders how she will be able to look Alesha in the eye after defending the man who raped her.
"She likes it rough," counters Phyllis.
He makes a noise of disgust, momentarily unable to speak. Maybe Alesha does like rough sex - it's not exactly something they've discussed, but he'd be willing to bet that she doesn't have any rape fantasies.
"That's what she told him when she came onto him in his office beforehand, all tits and teeth. Agent provocateur. If you cared about her, you'd spare her from what I'm about to put her through."
James grits his teeth before answering. "She's tougher and stronger than you think." The phrase 'All tits and teeth' grates on his nerves: he loves Alesha's smile, and he's never seen her flaunt herself at anyone; she usually dresses fairly conservatively.
But as he watches Alesha giving her evidence, he wonders just how tough and strong she is. The months between the rape and the case coming to court have been painfully long, it seems to him. He remembers the lunchtime he'd found her weeping in her office when he'd gone to get some paperwork from her.
Five months ago
"I'm not pregnant," she tells him as he crouches beside her desk to be at eye-level with her. It's a position he's growing used to adopting in order to talk to her so that he doesn't intimidate her by standing over her.
"Good!" he answers in a heartfelt tone.
"I've been worrying and worrying, even though they gave me emergency contraception," she says, wringing her hands together. "I kept thinking, what if it didn't work?"
He reaches out and gently clasps her hands, holding them still. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asks. "Sorry, stupid question. It's none of my business."
"I didn't want to talk about it," she answers. "I don't know what I would have done if I had become pregnant by him."
"At least you don't have to worry about that now." He reaches across her desk for the box of tissues and lets go of her hands so she can take some.
He waits with her until the worst of her weeping is over. "Why don't you go home?" he suggests. "Take the rest of the day off. I can manage without you this afternoon."
"I - "
"Alesha," he says gently, taking her hands again. "Go home. Get some rest, sleep if you can." He pauses a moment before asking. "Do you want me to go with you?" He'd taken her home one day last week when she'd had a really bad day.
She bites her bottom lip for a moment, then nods, almost reluctantly, and he gets to his feet.
"I'll wait in my office until you're ready."
Five minutes later they leave the office, after James has told George where they're going. James hails a taxi, and they reach Alesha's flat shortly afterwards.
"Come in with me, please?" she asks.
"Okay." He pays the taxi driver, then follows her inside. "Do you want me to make you some tea?" he asks.
She nods, so they go into the kitchen, and she slumps down into the chair while he moves quietly around, making them both a mug of tea.
"Here." He sets it down in front of her. "Did you eat yet?" he asks.
She shakes her head. "I'm not hungry right now," she says.
"Okay."
"Was George mad at me leaving early?" she asks after blowing on her tea to cool it.
"No," James answers as he takes a seat beside her. George may have been angry that Alesha went back to see Merrick, but he's not entirely without compassion. He understands that she's going through a horrible ordeal, so he's resigned to her needing to take time off work while she tries to deal with it.
"I shouldn't have dragged you away," she observes, "not when you've got so much to do at the moment."
"Alesha, nothing is more important to me than your well being at the moment."
She looks startled at this pronouncement. "But this is my fault," she says. "If I hadn't gone back - "
"No," he says forcefully. "It is not your fault. What you did was unwise, I agree, and I wish I knew what had possessed you to go back the second time, but this is not your fault." He reaches over and puts a hand on her wrist, clasping it lightly for emphasis. "Don't you dare repeat that lie again."
She chokes back a sob, and he immediately wishes he'd kept his mouth shut. "Alesha," he says helplessly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
She shakes her head, then clutches his arm, and he slowly and carefully lifts it, then puts it around her shoulders. He's aware from the reading he's done that rape victims often don't like to be touched, but he wants to comfort her as best he can. When she leans into his body, sobbing, he deduces he's done the right thing, and he holds her gently, waiting for the storm to pass.
"C'mon," he says, "you should go to bed and get some sleep." He helps her up from the chair and leads her down the hall to her room, and she leans on him as they walk. "Can I take you in?" he asks.
"Yes," she croaks, so he opens the door and leads her over to sit on the bed, then kneels beside it.
"Don't come in tomorrow, if you don't feel up to it," he tells her.
"I'll be fine," she tells him.
He gives her a look. "Decide in the morning," he says, "and don't come in if you feel rough."
"I'm sorry," she says.
"Don't be. You don't have to apologise for anything. Get some rest, okay?"
She gives him a weak nod, and he smiles at her, then squeezes her shoulder before slipping out of the room. He lets himself out of the house, then heads back to the office.
Now
When Phyllis reveals that Alesha and Diane Perkins are friends, James feels as if his dismay at the news must be obvious to everyone; he has to suppress a growl of frustration at the realisation that Matt and Ronnie's inability to find enough evidence to make a case after Merrick's assault on her first visit must have prompted her second visit with the camera. James knows how loyal she is to her friends, and how fiercely protective of them she can be, and he understands her desire to help Diane, but he also knows how Phyllis is going to use this information. As he watches Alesha leave the court in the wake of the jury he momentarily feels a strong desire to shake her for withholding such vitally important information from him.
When he sees her waiting out in the vast hall later he can't help admonishing her just a little. "You should have told me." He sees a guilty look in her eyes and knows she's aware of the mistake she made by her omission.
After a few minutes in the robing room to change into his street clothes he goes back out into the hall, intending to talk to her, but she's already leaving with Matt close behind, and he bites back his frustration. He knows full well that the case against Merrick could have been strengthened by testimony from other witnesses, and he fears that after today the jury will be more inclined to return a 'not guilty' verdict than a 'guilty' one. He worries that if Merrick gets off it'll be the final straw for Alesha, and he doesn't want to see that happen.
* * * * * *
After the verdict is given, and James has disrobed, he goes to find Alesha, eventually running her to earth as she stands looking out over the city. He touches her left shoulder to get her attention, and she turns towards him.
"I'm sorry," he says inadequately.
"I should have told you about Diane," she answers, and he swallows down his desire to agree with her. It's too late for recriminations now: all he can do is try to help her to cope.
"Unless someone else comes forwards, we won't get him," he tells her.
"No one will come forward," she answers, her tone veering between anger and bitterness. She stalks away, and he watches her go; part of him wants to go after her to offer what small comfort he can, but the other part of him is calculating ways and means. He heads back to the office to see George.
* * * * * *
When James tells Alesha what he's asked Matt and Ronnie to do, she looks astounded.
"Why?" she asks, finding her tongue at last.
"Because he can't be allowed to go free to do it again," he answers simply.
"I don't know what to say," she tells him.
"You don't need to say anything," he assures her quickly.
He's standing beside her desk to talk to her, and she gets up abruptly, then puts her arms around him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he answers, patting her back awkwardly, aware that anyone could be watching.
She casts a swift glance up into his face as she settles back into her chair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"I'm not embarrassed," he assures her, "well, not much." Then he changes the subject quickly. "Phyllis will be bringing Merrick in tomorrow. Are you going to be okay with seeing him again? You don't have to sit in on the whole meeting, if you'd rather not."
She bites her bottom lip for a moment. "I'd rather not be there when he arrives," she answers.
"That's okay," he says. "I can give you a ring, and you can come in with the witness statements, once Phyllis has done huffing and puffing in outrage." Alesha manages a smile at that remark, then nods. "There's one other thing." James shifts awkwardly.
"What?"
"Could you go and talk to your friend, Diane? If we can get a statement from her as well it'll really hammer things home to Merrick, and serve to shake Phyllis out of her complacency. Natalie Chandler tells me that half a dozen women have already come forward, but Diane's not one of them. I was thinking that if you told her what Merrick did to you, she might be willing to make a statement this time." He pauses, watching her anxiously. "I know it's a lot to ask," he continues, "but - "
"I'll go and see her," she says. "I'm not promising she will make a statement, but I'll ask her."
"Thank you," he says, relieved.
* * * * * *
The next day, after they've seen Phyllis and Merrick out, James and Alesha retire to his office.
"Thank you for persuading Diane to make a statement," he says.
She shrugs. "It was the least I could do after you got Merrick arrested again."
"Promise me something?" he asks.
She gives him a slightly wary look. "What?"
"That you'll never withhold vital information from me again." She nods, her eyes downcast. "And that you'll never do anything so foolhardy as to try to investigate a case without back up."
She looks up at him where he's leaning against the edge of his desk, taking in the serious, intent expression on his face. She bites her bottom lip, then gives a sharp nod. "I promise," she says quietly.
"Good." He pushes himself away from the desk, pausing to squeeze her shoulder as he moves around the desk, then settles into his chair, and they move onto discussing another case. The conversation lasts until lunchtime, and as Alesha returns to her office to have her lunch, James hopes that she will now be able to begin her healing process.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Alesha/James, George, Phyllis Gladstone
Rating: R (for discussions of rape)
Spoilers: Law & Order: UK up to 1.07
Summary: James and Alesha deal with a very personal case.
Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK.
Author Notes: This is probably the angstiest fic I've written for these two, and definitely the hardest. It's the seventh in a series of tag fics for the TV series (I haven't yet written/posted all the preceding ones).
Beta: The generous fourzoas
~~~~~~
James waits until George has led Ronnie and Matt away for their spurious cups of tea before he steps into Alesha's doorway. Now he's seen the tape, he's wondering what on earth he can say to her. He feels nauseous and heartsick, but he knows he has to behave in a professional manner, even though he feels like behaving in a thoroughly unprofessional way (his strongest desire is to find Merrick and thump him).
"That's a first," Alesha says when she finally looks up at him. He cocks his head enquiringly, uncertain of her meaning. "George, entertaining," she elaborates.
He realises that she's waiting for something from him, so he walks around her desk and crouches down beside it, resting his forearm along the top so that they're at eye-level. It's all he can do to hold back from pulling her into his arms, but that would be inappropriate, and he's not sure she'd want it. Part of him makes a mental note to look up information on rape, and contact Dr Rawls, so he can try to find out how he can help her. Looking at her, seeing how fragile she looks without her usual subtle make-up or brightly coloured cardigan, he senses that she's close to breaking point.
"Did you watch it?" she asks, her voice low and shaky, her eyes downcast.
He misses the way she usually meets his eyes; her own are normally full of intelligence and determination, and often compassion for the victims whom they try to assist. But he understands that she must feel embarrassed, if not outright ashamed, knowing that he's just watched someone violating her. He swallows, his throat feeling constricted by the anger he's holding back. He needs, and Alesha needs him, to be strong and professional about this. He briefly wonders why she came in today, when George had given her a leave of absence. "Yes."
"What are you going to do?" she asks.
"I can't talk about it," he tells her, knowing that this won't deflect her: she's asking as someone who wants reassurance from her friend, and he's going to have to walk a tightrope here; while it's one he's walked often before, that doesn't make this any easier.
"What - are you - going - to do?" She forces the words out, and he can hear her fear that he won't help her.
"There were traces of GHB in your samples," he answers.
Her expression lightens with her relief. "Then we've got him."
"It's not that simple." She looks at him and he sighs internally, then tells her what she already knows from the other rape cases they've handled. "He asked if you wanted a nurse in the room, and you said no." That had shaken him, when he'd watched the film, and he knew how it would look to the average jury who didn't know Alesha. After all, he knows her, and he can't understand why she'd said no when this man had already assaulted her once.
"You went back there after he'd assaulted you. He's going to be in the witness box, claiming you wanted it." It hurts him to say these things, but it's his duty to remind her. He's worked on the defence side, he knows the sort of arguments a defence lawyer would make, and that a good one could probably get Merrick off.
"To be drugged and raped?" she asks disbelievingly.
He forces himself to say the unwelcome words. "To incriminate him."
Alesha looks away from him, clearly disappointed; he wants to ask her what possessed her to go back there a second time, particularly armed with a camera. It was such an uncharacteristically foolhardy thing for her to do. He thought she knew better, and he wonders, fleetingly, if there's something she hasn't yet told him about this situation.
"Less than six percent of reported rape cases which go to trial - "
"I know the statistics," she interrupts. "I have to do this, and you have to prosecute him."
He watches her closely, noticing the way she's not meeting his eyes, which doesn't make his next words any easier. "We have a personal relationship," he reminds her, his heart aching. They were more than work colleagues, and more than friends too, he felt, even if they'd only exchanged kisses.
"Please," she pleads, almost crying now, and once again he's fighting his instinct to reach out and hold her. "I have to know that what I went through was worth it."
"Oh no, don't, don't say that," he begs, anguished.
She looks at him now, and he can see her anger asserting itself, and he wonders if she's thinking of him as her friend or as the chief prosecutor for the CPS. "You're always telling me we should fight for the victim. I am the victim." Her voice breaks. "Fight for me."
He bites his lip, torn between duty and friendship, as too often before. His mind flashes back to Faruk's accusations which still hurt months later, then he nods. "Okay."
She begins to cry. "Thank you."
He reaches across her desk and pulls a handful of tissues from the box. "Here." He folds them into her hand, squeezing her fingers, then gets to his feet. "You should go back home," he tells her, guessing that she won't. "I need to talk to George."
She nods, and he goes out. He feels bad about leaving her weeping and hurting, but he has to try to maintain some semblance of emotional distance, and he knows that won't happen if he stays in her office.
* * * * * *
George insists on taking a walk to get some fresh air, and James agrees readily. He feels that he might be able to think better outside: his office feels haunted at the moment, and he wishes they'd watched that tape in one of the conference rooms instead.
"What was Alesha thinking?" George demands as they walk beside the river. "Playing Nancy bloody Drew?"
"She didn't want him getting away with the assault," James answers automatically, but he's been wondering the same thing. He can't escape the nagging feeling that there must be more to it than that Alesha was unhappy with the police investigation into her initial complaint.
"He may get away with a whole lot more now. He's got Phyllis Gladstone as his defence barrister."
"Great!" James' response is heavy with bitterness as he recalls other cases they've fought against her. Phyllis may be a champion of women's rights, but she's quite capable of arguing a defence case for Merrick if she puts her mind to it. He hasn't forgotten her attempted defence of Emma Sandbrook, who had claimed to be raped to avoid being tried for murder.
"We know what she'll argue: a woman has the foresight to record her own rape? Looks like she expected it. Instigated it. Tempted an otherwise innocent man." George is still angry.
"He's not innocent," James answers, leaping to Alesha's defence. "He drugged her. You've seen the tape."
"I didn't see him force drugs on her. We're gonna have to prove that he has the propensity to commit sex crimes or he walks! He's a very eminent doctor, James. Why did she have to go and get herself raped?" he demands explosively. "I mean, how stupid can you be?"
"It's done," James answers, forcing down his own anger at George's comments. "It's happened, so now we have to deal with it." Although he wonders how they'll deal with it and, selfishly, what effect it'll have on his fledgling relationship with Alesha. While they hadn't yet become lovers, he felt sure they had been on the verge of taking that step.
"She'll go through Hell in that witness box," George says, interrupting his reverie, his tone more moderate now.
"She's already there," James answers, knowing that he has to find a way to help her out of that Hell.
* * * * * *
When Phyllis comes in to prepare for the trial, James can't resist trying to reach her, even though he's fairly sure the effort will be futile.
"How can you defend that man?"
"Easy," she answers. "Cab rank principle."
"You bang on to the press about the rights of women who hit back at their abusers," he says.
"I'm doing this for them. Women who cry 'rape' spit in the eye of the genuine victims."
"Alesha is a genuine victim," he answers, feeling his anger growing. He wonders how Phyllis can believe otherwise.
"Judge Silverton doesn't think so. Why else would he grant our application for reporting restrictions," she answers confidently.
"Dr Merrick treats MPs," retorts James. "There's no other agenda. You saw that tape!"
"She didn't fight, she didn't scream," Phyllis replies, her tone casual.
"Because she was drugged," he says, hardly able to believe this is her line of argument.
"That was her idea, to put her in the mood." She gives him a look that's probably meant to be flirtatious, but he feels revolted.
"You are kidding me!"
"GHB has been used for recreational purposes for years," Phyllis answers.
"Not by Alesha," he says emphatically. He knows for a fact that she's never touched drugs because she'd told him how a friend of hers had her drink spiked with Ecstasy at a party and almost died as a result.
He tries to get through to this woman. "He spiked her water, and then he raped her. She was badly bruised, Phyllis." He's disgusted at her cavalier attitude, and how little concern she shows for Alesha, someone with whom she has worked in the past and will have to work with again in the future. He wonders how she will be able to look Alesha in the eye after defending the man who raped her.
"She likes it rough," counters Phyllis.
He makes a noise of disgust, momentarily unable to speak. Maybe Alesha does like rough sex - it's not exactly something they've discussed, but he'd be willing to bet that she doesn't have any rape fantasies.
"That's what she told him when she came onto him in his office beforehand, all tits and teeth. Agent provocateur. If you cared about her, you'd spare her from what I'm about to put her through."
James grits his teeth before answering. "She's tougher and stronger than you think." The phrase 'All tits and teeth' grates on his nerves: he loves Alesha's smile, and he's never seen her flaunt herself at anyone; she usually dresses fairly conservatively.
But as he watches Alesha giving her evidence, he wonders just how tough and strong she is. The months between the rape and the case coming to court have been painfully long, it seems to him. He remembers the lunchtime he'd found her weeping in her office when he'd gone to get some paperwork from her.
Five months ago
"I'm not pregnant," she tells him as he crouches beside her desk to be at eye-level with her. It's a position he's growing used to adopting in order to talk to her so that he doesn't intimidate her by standing over her.
"Good!" he answers in a heartfelt tone.
"I've been worrying and worrying, even though they gave me emergency contraception," she says, wringing her hands together. "I kept thinking, what if it didn't work?"
He reaches out and gently clasps her hands, holding them still. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asks. "Sorry, stupid question. It's none of my business."
"I didn't want to talk about it," she answers. "I don't know what I would have done if I had become pregnant by him."
"At least you don't have to worry about that now." He reaches across her desk for the box of tissues and lets go of her hands so she can take some.
He waits with her until the worst of her weeping is over. "Why don't you go home?" he suggests. "Take the rest of the day off. I can manage without you this afternoon."
"I - "
"Alesha," he says gently, taking her hands again. "Go home. Get some rest, sleep if you can." He pauses a moment before asking. "Do you want me to go with you?" He'd taken her home one day last week when she'd had a really bad day.
She bites her bottom lip for a moment, then nods, almost reluctantly, and he gets to his feet.
"I'll wait in my office until you're ready."
Five minutes later they leave the office, after James has told George where they're going. James hails a taxi, and they reach Alesha's flat shortly afterwards.
"Come in with me, please?" she asks.
"Okay." He pays the taxi driver, then follows her inside. "Do you want me to make you some tea?" he asks.
She nods, so they go into the kitchen, and she slumps down into the chair while he moves quietly around, making them both a mug of tea.
"Here." He sets it down in front of her. "Did you eat yet?" he asks.
She shakes her head. "I'm not hungry right now," she says.
"Okay."
"Was George mad at me leaving early?" she asks after blowing on her tea to cool it.
"No," James answers as he takes a seat beside her. George may have been angry that Alesha went back to see Merrick, but he's not entirely without compassion. He understands that she's going through a horrible ordeal, so he's resigned to her needing to take time off work while she tries to deal with it.
"I shouldn't have dragged you away," she observes, "not when you've got so much to do at the moment."
"Alesha, nothing is more important to me than your well being at the moment."
She looks startled at this pronouncement. "But this is my fault," she says. "If I hadn't gone back - "
"No," he says forcefully. "It is not your fault. What you did was unwise, I agree, and I wish I knew what had possessed you to go back the second time, but this is not your fault." He reaches over and puts a hand on her wrist, clasping it lightly for emphasis. "Don't you dare repeat that lie again."
She chokes back a sob, and he immediately wishes he'd kept his mouth shut. "Alesha," he says helplessly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
She shakes her head, then clutches his arm, and he slowly and carefully lifts it, then puts it around her shoulders. He's aware from the reading he's done that rape victims often don't like to be touched, but he wants to comfort her as best he can. When she leans into his body, sobbing, he deduces he's done the right thing, and he holds her gently, waiting for the storm to pass.
"C'mon," he says, "you should go to bed and get some sleep." He helps her up from the chair and leads her down the hall to her room, and she leans on him as they walk. "Can I take you in?" he asks.
"Yes," she croaks, so he opens the door and leads her over to sit on the bed, then kneels beside it.
"Don't come in tomorrow, if you don't feel up to it," he tells her.
"I'll be fine," she tells him.
He gives her a look. "Decide in the morning," he says, "and don't come in if you feel rough."
"I'm sorry," she says.
"Don't be. You don't have to apologise for anything. Get some rest, okay?"
She gives him a weak nod, and he smiles at her, then squeezes her shoulder before slipping out of the room. He lets himself out of the house, then heads back to the office.
Now
When Phyllis reveals that Alesha and Diane Perkins are friends, James feels as if his dismay at the news must be obvious to everyone; he has to suppress a growl of frustration at the realisation that Matt and Ronnie's inability to find enough evidence to make a case after Merrick's assault on her first visit must have prompted her second visit with the camera. James knows how loyal she is to her friends, and how fiercely protective of them she can be, and he understands her desire to help Diane, but he also knows how Phyllis is going to use this information. As he watches Alesha leave the court in the wake of the jury he momentarily feels a strong desire to shake her for withholding such vitally important information from him.
When he sees her waiting out in the vast hall later he can't help admonishing her just a little. "You should have told me." He sees a guilty look in her eyes and knows she's aware of the mistake she made by her omission.
After a few minutes in the robing room to change into his street clothes he goes back out into the hall, intending to talk to her, but she's already leaving with Matt close behind, and he bites back his frustration. He knows full well that the case against Merrick could have been strengthened by testimony from other witnesses, and he fears that after today the jury will be more inclined to return a 'not guilty' verdict than a 'guilty' one. He worries that if Merrick gets off it'll be the final straw for Alesha, and he doesn't want to see that happen.
* * * * * *
After the verdict is given, and James has disrobed, he goes to find Alesha, eventually running her to earth as she stands looking out over the city. He touches her left shoulder to get her attention, and she turns towards him.
"I'm sorry," he says inadequately.
"I should have told you about Diane," she answers, and he swallows down his desire to agree with her. It's too late for recriminations now: all he can do is try to help her to cope.
"Unless someone else comes forwards, we won't get him," he tells her.
"No one will come forward," she answers, her tone veering between anger and bitterness. She stalks away, and he watches her go; part of him wants to go after her to offer what small comfort he can, but the other part of him is calculating ways and means. He heads back to the office to see George.
* * * * * *
When James tells Alesha what he's asked Matt and Ronnie to do, she looks astounded.
"Why?" she asks, finding her tongue at last.
"Because he can't be allowed to go free to do it again," he answers simply.
"I don't know what to say," she tells him.
"You don't need to say anything," he assures her quickly.
He's standing beside her desk to talk to her, and she gets up abruptly, then puts her arms around him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he answers, patting her back awkwardly, aware that anyone could be watching.
She casts a swift glance up into his face as she settles back into her chair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"I'm not embarrassed," he assures her, "well, not much." Then he changes the subject quickly. "Phyllis will be bringing Merrick in tomorrow. Are you going to be okay with seeing him again? You don't have to sit in on the whole meeting, if you'd rather not."
She bites her bottom lip for a moment. "I'd rather not be there when he arrives," she answers.
"That's okay," he says. "I can give you a ring, and you can come in with the witness statements, once Phyllis has done huffing and puffing in outrage." Alesha manages a smile at that remark, then nods. "There's one other thing." James shifts awkwardly.
"What?"
"Could you go and talk to your friend, Diane? If we can get a statement from her as well it'll really hammer things home to Merrick, and serve to shake Phyllis out of her complacency. Natalie Chandler tells me that half a dozen women have already come forward, but Diane's not one of them. I was thinking that if you told her what Merrick did to you, she might be willing to make a statement this time." He pauses, watching her anxiously. "I know it's a lot to ask," he continues, "but - "
"I'll go and see her," she says. "I'm not promising she will make a statement, but I'll ask her."
"Thank you," he says, relieved.
* * * * * *
The next day, after they've seen Phyllis and Merrick out, James and Alesha retire to his office.
"Thank you for persuading Diane to make a statement," he says.
She shrugs. "It was the least I could do after you got Merrick arrested again."
"Promise me something?" he asks.
She gives him a slightly wary look. "What?"
"That you'll never withhold vital information from me again." She nods, her eyes downcast. "And that you'll never do anything so foolhardy as to try to investigate a case without back up."
She looks up at him where he's leaning against the edge of his desk, taking in the serious, intent expression on his face. She bites her bottom lip, then gives a sharp nod. "I promise," she says quietly.
"Good." He pushes himself away from the desk, pausing to squeeze her shoulder as he moves around the desk, then settles into his chair, and they move onto discussing another case. The conversation lasts until lunchtime, and as Alesha returns to her office to have her lunch, James hopes that she will now be able to begin her healing process.