Fic: Coroner's Report
Title: Coroner's Report
Author: Cypher
Rating: PG13
Category: Crossover, Romance
Summary: "Tobin Hayes was a man at the top of his game. Then one day someone took a picture, and Tobin’s life hit the fan."
Warnings: Language, Dirty Politics
Notes: In the quest of Hewligan pairings, this one popped up. Judging Amy/Kung Fu: The Legend Continues mix. Something of a Valentine's Day treat. Enjoy!
Coroner's Report
Tobin Hayes was a man at the top of his game. Graduation from kiddy court to criminal, a promotion to Assistant State Attorney, along with his success at prosecuting the head of the child porn ring had brought him fame. Fame enough that each successful case was heralded with newspaper headlines, and his failures were blamed on crooked defense attorneys rather than his ineptitude.
He had an apartment downtown, on the twenty-ninth floor (one floor from the roof) that was near a private park as well as within walking distance to work. Private firms were already sniffing around, offering him fast-tracks to partnerships within their offices. He now owned a very sleek, fast, and practical car that he liked to take for long drives on the weekend to unwind. The presiding State’s Attorney was enamored of him, even hinting that he had the charisma and record to be officially elected to a powerful position some day.
He also found himself in a relationship with a coroner, a doctor, who had fallen into his life by virtue of testifying for causes of death in murder cases. It had started innocently: discussing case testimonies over dinner because they were hungry and didn’t want to order in at the office again. From there, it evolved to watching a game or two some Saturdays at Tobin’s place, then to driving to the suburbs to check out garage sales. Tobin didn’t have much to do on weekends, and he liked the drive, as well as the company.
One night after coming back from a live game, they got drunk as shit and all Tobin could remember the next morning was that he’d had the best sex of his life. There weren’t any declarations of love, but Tobin suddenly had someone to call when he couldn’t be home at a reasonable hour, someone to come home to after a hard day in court, someone to take care of him when he got sick and to poke him when he was taking life too seriously. As far as Tobin was concerned, he had everything, and he was riding the high for everything it was worth.
Then one day someone took a picture, and Tobin’s life hit the fan.
~*()*~
“It’s not that bad,” the voice over the cell phone told him. ‘They got your good side.”
“Don’t you get it,” he hissed, trying to ignore the stares from everyone in the elevator. He was clutching the phone in one hand and a newspaper with the other. A newspaper that had a clear picture of him embracing and kissing his coroner. “This could put a lot of my cases in jeopardy!”
“What, I doctored my findings because we’re sleeping together?”
“Yes!” Tobin finally glared at the people staring at him. “That’s exactly what everyone who ever had us in the courtroom together will say and then we can kiss both our careers goodbye!”
“So we explain that we’ve only been together for your last five or six cases, and you made sure to use a different coroner then.” Tobin shoved his way out of the elevator as they arrived on the thirteenth floor. “I don’t really see the big deal. We shouldn’t have to hide who we are. Everyone here knows I’m seeing someone, that it’s serious, and that it’s a guy.”
“Well hurrah for you!” Tobin glared at the picture once more, then stuffed it in the nearest trash bin.
“Wait, you haven’t told anyone that you’re…”
“No, I haven’t! Because I keep my personal life and my professional life strictly separate! And I-” He stopped as he saw his boss standing in his office. “I have to go.” He hung up immediately and put his phone in his pocket. “Shannon, I-”
“It doesn’t bother me,” she interrupted, strong and confident, “that you’re dating a guy. It doesn’t even bother me that you’ve potentially endangered no less than thirty-one cases processed by this office.” Tobin winced at the number, reflexively tensing. “Or that you were caught on film, putting this office in papers and on the morning news across the nation.”
And oh, that was bad. The last time she’d used that tone was when she was chewing out an FBI lackey for stealing a pivotal witness and nearly endangering a multiple rape-homicide case. Shifting uncomfortably, he subtly nudged the door with his foot, trying to shut it a little more as Shannon’s voice rose.
“What bothers me,” she said, “is that all this time, you let me think that this Nicky you kept calling was a woman. That you felt you had to deceive me, deceive everyone here, for some reason. If you could hide this,” she tapped a newspaper on his desk, “lie about this, how do I know you haven’t lied about other things? Important things! Like how crucial some evidence was to a case! How reliable the police’s witnesses are!” She shook her head, out of steam, or maybe just so mad she couldn’t continue.
Tobin cleared his throat nervously. “I never lied,” he said. “I just never,” he offered a one-shouldered shrug, “clarified.”
Shannon’s eyes narrowed, and she reached up to run a hand through her blond curls; something she did only when she was really pissed off. “Don’t,” she said harshly, “don’t you dare become a lawyer. Not now, not over this.” She held up the paper, and he was once more confronted with the picture of him and a blond-haired man slightly shorter than him with a little weight and strong thick arms (at least in contrast to Tobin’s arms in the picture). “We can’t work together if you don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you,” he said, finally stepping forward and pushing the paper down. “I just, I didn’t want…it’s not important who I’m sleeping with!” Why couldn’t anyone understand that?
“It is when it threatens this office, and our relationship.” She locked eyes with him, tossing the paper on the desk behind her. “As of this moment, you’re off all cases until this mess is sorted out.” She strode towards the door and stopped only as she reached the threshold. She looked back over her shoulder. Her voice was softer now, more compassionate. “You’re going to be under review for this. It might be wise to consider other…opportunities once this is over.”
Tobin swallowed. “You’re firing me?” He felt very proud of the way he kept his voice steady.
“Of course not. But this scandal--and it is a scandal--could ruin your credibility. You’re an excellent lawyer.” She opened the door a little wider. “But this is one fight that, even if you win, you’ll lose.” With that, she left and shut the door behind her.
Finally alone, Tobin stumbled behind is desk and collapsed into his chair, staring at the damned picture. It was taken outside of Lorenzo’s. Tobin remembered because they’d had their one year anniversary dinner there, and he’d been so swept up in the romance that he had swept up Nicky and kissed him.
And because of that one instance, his life was ruined.
Shaking, he shut his eyes and lowered his head to his desk, not caring if he got newsprint on his forehead. He’d been on top of the world, and now he was coming down crashing.
~*()*~
After cleaning up his files and notes so that someone could take over his cases--probably the very slimy and very straight ADA newly transferred from Virginia, Tobin thought bitterly--he left the office and returned to his apartment. It had seemed like such a simple plan at the time, but he ran into a swarm of reporters the instant he left the office. This wasn’t unusual, especially when dealing with big cases, but in this instance, the attention was highly unwarranted. Fortunately, security was quick to pick up on his distress and extracted him before he was swallowed by the crowd.
It took some cloak-and-dagger tactics from there on out, including sending a decoy lawyer (who was working on a multiple homicide case), sneaking out an emergency exit, and arranging for a private car with tinted windows to take him home. There was another crowd outside his building, but fortunately, security back at work had called the police, and they were waved into the underground lot with little hassle. There were a few lurking reporters hiding behind cars, but a mad dash, and his driver tackling one to the ground, and he was home free.
Falling back against lift’s wall, he let out a long sigh, feeling drained. Luckily, no reporters had gotten into the building, so the hallway was blissfully clear of anybody as he dragged himself to the door and let himself in. It was exactly as he’d left it that morning: case materials all over his coffee table, Nicky’s autopsy reports covering half the surfaces in his kitchen, and breakfast half-eaten teetering on the edge of the kitchen sink. The television was on, but its volume was so low it was a whisper, his and Nicky’s favorite background noise.
In many respects, it was a comfort to return to this, to home, and for an instant, he felt himself unwind and know, deep down, that it would be alright.
Then his phone rang. And his cell phone. And his computer made a pinging sound that indicated he had an email, followed by another, and another.
That was it. Gone was the cool, relaxed demeanor of Tobin Hayes. Letting out a growl, he ripped the battery from his phone and threw it across the room, followed by a savage yank to pull the phone cord from the wall. Then the computer pinged again, and letting out an angered cry, he swung out his arm, knocking the flat screen monitor and its speakers to the floor with a loud crash. He felt himself shaking, frustrated and angry and feeling terrified that he’d driven Nicky away this morning.
Unable to leave without being harassed, and unable to face anymore pictures of himself and his boyfriend--possibly ex-boyfriend--Tobin retreated to the bedroom with the made bed, crawled under the covers, and hugged Nicky’s pillow close, breathing in his scent. It made him feel safe, and helped him block out the horrors of the day; along with the nightmares of the future.
~*()*~
“Judge Amy Gray had no comment regarding the controversy surrounding ASA Tobin Hayes. Judge Gray presided over the case that catapulted Mr. Hayes’ career into the State Attorney’s office. State Attorney Jonathan Ashworth, Mr. Hayes’ previous employer, could not be reached for comment.”
Tobin moaned at the verbal assault, opened his eyes, and found a hand resting by his head. A minute later, he felt something ruffle his hair softly, and let out a quit, desperate sigh. The rage from earlier was gone, but the guilt was still hovering, the fear, the despair. But now Nicky was here, and he has trying to sooth him by resting a hand on the back of his neck.
“Nice job,” the voice wasn’t as chipper as it was this morning, but it was still warm, sunny, even. “You always said you hated that monitor, but wow. At least you didn’t hurt your hand.”
“Nicky…” Tobin wasn’t in the mood for any teasing today--tonight? He wasn’t sure what time it was.
A bearded face appeared, a concerned look on Nicky’s face despite the light tone, his blue eyes bright and searching. “You are okay, right?”
And that was so Nicky, not worrying about the mess out in the apartment or about how rude Tobin had been, just worrying about his well-being. “No,” he finally answered, reaching out to curl his own fingers around the ones resting on the bed. “I…and you…” He wasn’t sure how to explain it, to say what he was feeling.
Nicky quirked his shy, crooked smile, and stroked Tobin’s neck gently. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Tobin glanced to the window. “We can’t escape them.” He’d seen reporters hound lawyers before, hell, they’d hounded him before. This was a big enough topic there was no safe place they could go.
Nicky pulled away though, standing up and walking to the closet. “I took some vacation, and your boss said you’re suspended, so come on.” He rifled through Tobin’s dry cleaning and tossed a pair of jeans and a green button-down onto the bed, over his feet. “Up up,” Nicky was bouncing on the balls of his heels, the way he had when he’d thought he’d found a medallion from the Dali Lama at that garage sale.
Tobin pushed himself up on an arm, using the other to rub the sleep crust from his eyes. “I don’t feel like-”
“Just get dressed,” Nicky found Tobin’s overnight bag and started putting his clothes in it. He paused while lifting a pair of sneakers, smiling gently. “Trust me, Tobin.” It was that pleading voice, the one that he used whenever he wanted Tobin to cave.
Sighing, Tobin crawled out from the covers and starting putting on what Nicky had thrown onto the bed, tossing longing looks towards the bathroom. He hated to get out of bed without showering, it was habit. Then Nicky blocked the door and crossed his arms. Obviously, whatever the coroner had planned, he didn’t have to be clean for it.
Tucking his shirt into his jeans, he left the top two buttons undone and found sandals by his feet. “Nicky, the beach and I-”
Nicky picked up the bag and waved his hand. “Just come one. We need to get going.” He grabbed Tobin’s arm and dragged him through the apartment.
Tobin stumbled, wincing as he saw the mess in his office, and the damage done to the wall by his phone (he was always made the pitcher of the office softball team for a reason). Then they were in the hallway and the elevator and Tobin used the pause to slip on his sandals, hopping on first one foot then the other, as he fastened the Velcro.
Catching his reflection in the elevator doors, he grimaced again. He had horrible bed head, and while he liked to have a little bed head--it made him look rakish, and great on TV--right now it could almost be defined as a rat’s nest. His face was pale, and his eyes looked puffy, though he couldn’t think of why. His shirt was a little twisted, the buttons not lining up along his chest, and his jeans were riding a little low without a belt to hold them in place.
Then Nicky grabbed his arm and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows. “You know, someone once told me I’d make a great mortician.” He was still smiling as he finished with the sleeve and reached up to mess with his hair. “Not that you look like a corpse, but they said I have a good eye.” Nicky tilted his head, resting his hands in Tobin’s hair.
Tobin could smell the formaldehyde on Nicky’s arm, and he felt his neck grow warm. To most people the smell was a repellant, but Tobin had too many good memories associated with that smell, and it made him relax enough to lean forward and kiss Nicky. A brief one, sweet and warm and more of his tension melted away.
Nicky flapped his hands excitedly, then placed his hands on either side of his face and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. “Better?”
“Yes.” And it was true, knowing that Nicky was going to stay with him, that he had someone to care for him in his downward spiral. “I’m sorry-”
“For what?” Nicky seemed baffled, then flapped a hand to the side, remembering the morning. “You were caught off guard. I get it. Remember when that mob witness suddenly recanted on the stand? You were just as snappish.”
Which Tobin hadn’t even considered, that he was acting totally normal for him. Of course Nicky would be the one to point that out to him. “You know that I, even with the picture, we,” he struggled for words again. The problem with being a lawyer was that he could say ‘this man is guilty’ fifty ways without actually saying that, yet when it came to being direct and honest, that was a little more difficult. Not for some lawyers, but he couldn’t compartmentalize as well as some others.
Nicky, who knew him and was a genius, stroked his face one more time, then let go and picked up the bag as the elevator reached the garage. “Come on.” He headed not for Tobin’s car, but for a white Kia parked in the visitor’s spot. Pulling out a set of keys, he popped the trunk and tossed the bag in.
“So where are we going,” Tobin asked as he opened the passenger door.
“Someplace.” Nicky climbed in, buckled up, then pulled a set of sunglasses from his pocket and handed them to Tobin.
They were Tobin’s favorite pair, the ones he always wore when they drove out on the weekends. Feeling a warm tingle in his chest, he put the glasses on, put his seat back, and let Nicky whisk him away.
~*()*~
Tobin didn’t really focus on where they were going, just let the motion of the car lull him into a semi-sleeping state. How Nicky had evaded the press outside the parking garage, he didn’t know, but frankly, he didn’t care. He was just about to go back to napping when the car stopped and Nicky rested a hand on his stomach. “We’re here?”
“Yup!” Nicky sounded even happier now. “Come on.” He got out and Tobin heard the trunk open. Putting the seat back up, Tobin looked at the brick and blue house, a bit puzzled. They were in the suburbs, west of the city--Tobin had an excellent sense of direction, even when he wasn’t paying attention--in a place they’d never gone before. Then the door was open and Nicky was there, rubbing his shoulder. “Coming?”
Tobin followed silently, not even surprised that Nicky had a key to the place. He was about to tell him that a hotel room was fine, that he didn’t have to rent a house, but then they’re inside and Tobin saw a living room that could only belong to one Nicky Elder. The single bookcase was filled with medical journals, the glass coffee table had piles of travel magazines, and there were newspapers draped over the couch, the exact same way they ended up every day at Tobin’s apartment.
“I called the local police chief--I helped him once on this weird homicide that seemed to involve poison but--anyway,” Nicky shut the door, “he’ll keep the press away.”
Tobin touched the couch, brown and ratty and old. Nicky must’ve had it since college. “You never said you had a place.”
“I liked staying at your place.” Nicky headed down the short hallway, but Tobin stayed to explore the living room. The doctor vanished briefly into a room, then returned bag-less. “And I travel a lot. Besides,” Nicky wrapped his arms around Tobin, “I wanted to be with you.”
Tobin felt himself melt into the hug. This was…this was just what he needed. “I,” he ducked his head to kiss Nicky, “love you.”
Nicky hugged him tighter, returning the kiss enthusiastically; but before anything more could happen, the doorbell rang. Tobin jumped, and Nicky looked sheepish. “Sorry. Groceries.” He went to the door.
Tobin sighed and sat back on the couch, sinking almost to the frame and crinkling many of the papers. He supposed it was just as well. Going out would only attract the paparazzi, and this way he could collect himself without fear of having another breakdown. He rested his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, Nicky was sitting next to him, a universal remote pointed at the eighties style television.
Tobin leaned to his side, rubbing his cheek against Nicky’s shoulder. It wasn’t where they were a moment ago, but it was quiet, normal. They spent the next few hours simply watching random daytime dramas and soaking in the warmth of the suburb afternoon, and of each other.
~*()*~
Tobin didn’t come out of it until days later. Blissful days, spent in each other’s company, getting hooked on bad daytime soaps--Nicky wouldn’t let him put on the news, not even on the alarm clock radio--and helping some neighborhood kids build a model rocket that made it almost a hundred feet into the air. It was like a vacation, a real one that didn’t involve Nicky wanting to see every beach and tourist attraction around. A few days downtime where the most demanding item on the agenda was who got to be on top.
It wasn’t until that Saturday morning, while Nicky went out to scrounge for new DVDs to watch, that Tobin borrowed a newspaper from next door and was thrust back into the world. The first few pages held nothing special, but near the end, before the editorials, there was a small article on Shannon, and the scandal.
“I should sue,” he exclaimed later, after Nicky had returned and Tobin had shoved the article in his face. “How could she…she said, she promised-”
Nicky scratched his beard, eyes bright, but he was frowning. “It’s not really surprising.”
“She gave someone my position! She all but said homosexuals don’t have a place in her office!” He almost missed the hollow, shocked feeling of that first day. Tobin almost never let his temper get the best of him, but this, this had touched a nerve he hadn’t known existed.
“She’s just pandering to her constituents,” Nicky’s voice was calm, almost understanding.
“Stop taking her side!” That wasn’t what Tobin needed. He needed Nicky’s support, wanted him to be as furious with Shannon as he was; not play devil’s advocate. “Why the hell aren’t you outraged by this?!”
Nicky sighed. “What can we do? Being angry won’t fix anything.”
“I’ll tell you what I can do. I’ll…I’ll…” He wanted to say sue, but she was a State’s Attorney. She wasn’t stupid enough to proclaim her stance on gays. It was phrased as a pseudo-personal attack on Tobin’s conduct regarding who he dated. And unfortunately, the public was buying it hook, line, and sinker. He shook, feeling hurt and angry and a million other things he wasn’t sure how to interpret, only that he needed to do something, anything.
“She didn’t fire you,” Nicky finally said, pushing on Tobin’s shoulders hard so that he’d sit on the edge of the bed.
“She as good as did!”
“So you’ll find a position, somewhere else. Where they won’t care who you sleep with.” Nicky sat next to him, running a hand up his thigh. “It’s for the best.”
“Stop it,” Tobin said bitterly. “Don’t look for a silver lining. This is…is…wrong!” Tobin felt himself flush as his extensive vocabulary failed him at this crucial moment.
“Yes, it is,” Nicky agreed, keeping his voice as neutral as possible for him (which was still a bit too cheerful, in Tobin’s opinion). “And it’s a good thing your far away from all of it, because the last thing the media needs to see is you blowing up at your boss.”
Tobin shot him a glare, but couldn’t deny that Nicky was right. “I was at the top, you know.”
“You’ll be there again.”
“Easy for you to say. You weren’t outted and fired from your job.”
“No, but I have this crazy boyfriend who’s furious at the world and broke a five-hundred dollar monitor.” Nicky squeezed his leg. “And that’s as on top as I need to be.”
Tobin rolled his eyes at that, but felt a little of his anger seep away at the statement. “I hate when you do that.”
“No you don’t,” and the happy tone was back. Nicky picked up the newspaper and ripped it in half, right down the middle of Shannon’s picture. He tossed it aside, then leaned against Tobin. “Now stop brooding. We’ve got three more days before we’re due back, and I intend to have a matching set of mood rings from the seventies by then.”
Tobin groaned, but inside he was grinning. Leave it to Nicky to go for normalcy when the world was tuned on its ear. “Matching set?”
Nicky grinned, kissing Tobin briefly on the cheek before heading for the classified section of the newspaper. “Diamonds aren’t as much fun.”
~*()*~
Okay, so maybe his career was heading for the toilet, maybe he had been blasted by the neo-conservatives (ironically, his own political party) for his lifestyle, and he was going to have to give up both his apartment and a job he loved. By the time he returned to the city, Tobin still felt on top of the world, and judging by the bright green color of Nicky’s mood ring, he was willing to bet his boyfriend was feeling the exact same way.
Author: Cypher
Rating: PG13
Category: Crossover, Romance
Summary: "Tobin Hayes was a man at the top of his game. Then one day someone took a picture, and Tobin’s life hit the fan."
Warnings: Language, Dirty Politics
Notes: In the quest of Hewligan pairings, this one popped up. Judging Amy/Kung Fu: The Legend Continues mix. Something of a Valentine's Day treat. Enjoy!
Coroner's Report
Tobin Hayes was a man at the top of his game. Graduation from kiddy court to criminal, a promotion to Assistant State Attorney, along with his success at prosecuting the head of the child porn ring had brought him fame. Fame enough that each successful case was heralded with newspaper headlines, and his failures were blamed on crooked defense attorneys rather than his ineptitude.
He had an apartment downtown, on the twenty-ninth floor (one floor from the roof) that was near a private park as well as within walking distance to work. Private firms were already sniffing around, offering him fast-tracks to partnerships within their offices. He now owned a very sleek, fast, and practical car that he liked to take for long drives on the weekend to unwind. The presiding State’s Attorney was enamored of him, even hinting that he had the charisma and record to be officially elected to a powerful position some day.
He also found himself in a relationship with a coroner, a doctor, who had fallen into his life by virtue of testifying for causes of death in murder cases. It had started innocently: discussing case testimonies over dinner because they were hungry and didn’t want to order in at the office again. From there, it evolved to watching a game or two some Saturdays at Tobin’s place, then to driving to the suburbs to check out garage sales. Tobin didn’t have much to do on weekends, and he liked the drive, as well as the company.
One night after coming back from a live game, they got drunk as shit and all Tobin could remember the next morning was that he’d had the best sex of his life. There weren’t any declarations of love, but Tobin suddenly had someone to call when he couldn’t be home at a reasonable hour, someone to come home to after a hard day in court, someone to take care of him when he got sick and to poke him when he was taking life too seriously. As far as Tobin was concerned, he had everything, and he was riding the high for everything it was worth.
Then one day someone took a picture, and Tobin’s life hit the fan.
~*()*~
“It’s not that bad,” the voice over the cell phone told him. ‘They got your good side.”
“Don’t you get it,” he hissed, trying to ignore the stares from everyone in the elevator. He was clutching the phone in one hand and a newspaper with the other. A newspaper that had a clear picture of him embracing and kissing his coroner. “This could put a lot of my cases in jeopardy!”
“What, I doctored my findings because we’re sleeping together?”
“Yes!” Tobin finally glared at the people staring at him. “That’s exactly what everyone who ever had us in the courtroom together will say and then we can kiss both our careers goodbye!”
“So we explain that we’ve only been together for your last five or six cases, and you made sure to use a different coroner then.” Tobin shoved his way out of the elevator as they arrived on the thirteenth floor. “I don’t really see the big deal. We shouldn’t have to hide who we are. Everyone here knows I’m seeing someone, that it’s serious, and that it’s a guy.”
“Well hurrah for you!” Tobin glared at the picture once more, then stuffed it in the nearest trash bin.
“Wait, you haven’t told anyone that you’re…”
“No, I haven’t! Because I keep my personal life and my professional life strictly separate! And I-” He stopped as he saw his boss standing in his office. “I have to go.” He hung up immediately and put his phone in his pocket. “Shannon, I-”
“It doesn’t bother me,” she interrupted, strong and confident, “that you’re dating a guy. It doesn’t even bother me that you’ve potentially endangered no less than thirty-one cases processed by this office.” Tobin winced at the number, reflexively tensing. “Or that you were caught on film, putting this office in papers and on the morning news across the nation.”
And oh, that was bad. The last time she’d used that tone was when she was chewing out an FBI lackey for stealing a pivotal witness and nearly endangering a multiple rape-homicide case. Shifting uncomfortably, he subtly nudged the door with his foot, trying to shut it a little more as Shannon’s voice rose.
“What bothers me,” she said, “is that all this time, you let me think that this Nicky you kept calling was a woman. That you felt you had to deceive me, deceive everyone here, for some reason. If you could hide this,” she tapped a newspaper on his desk, “lie about this, how do I know you haven’t lied about other things? Important things! Like how crucial some evidence was to a case! How reliable the police’s witnesses are!” She shook her head, out of steam, or maybe just so mad she couldn’t continue.
Tobin cleared his throat nervously. “I never lied,” he said. “I just never,” he offered a one-shouldered shrug, “clarified.”
Shannon’s eyes narrowed, and she reached up to run a hand through her blond curls; something she did only when she was really pissed off. “Don’t,” she said harshly, “don’t you dare become a lawyer. Not now, not over this.” She held up the paper, and he was once more confronted with the picture of him and a blond-haired man slightly shorter than him with a little weight and strong thick arms (at least in contrast to Tobin’s arms in the picture). “We can’t work together if you don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you,” he said, finally stepping forward and pushing the paper down. “I just, I didn’t want…it’s not important who I’m sleeping with!” Why couldn’t anyone understand that?
“It is when it threatens this office, and our relationship.” She locked eyes with him, tossing the paper on the desk behind her. “As of this moment, you’re off all cases until this mess is sorted out.” She strode towards the door and stopped only as she reached the threshold. She looked back over her shoulder. Her voice was softer now, more compassionate. “You’re going to be under review for this. It might be wise to consider other…opportunities once this is over.”
Tobin swallowed. “You’re firing me?” He felt very proud of the way he kept his voice steady.
“Of course not. But this scandal--and it is a scandal--could ruin your credibility. You’re an excellent lawyer.” She opened the door a little wider. “But this is one fight that, even if you win, you’ll lose.” With that, she left and shut the door behind her.
Finally alone, Tobin stumbled behind is desk and collapsed into his chair, staring at the damned picture. It was taken outside of Lorenzo’s. Tobin remembered because they’d had their one year anniversary dinner there, and he’d been so swept up in the romance that he had swept up Nicky and kissed him.
And because of that one instance, his life was ruined.
Shaking, he shut his eyes and lowered his head to his desk, not caring if he got newsprint on his forehead. He’d been on top of the world, and now he was coming down crashing.
~*()*~
After cleaning up his files and notes so that someone could take over his cases--probably the very slimy and very straight ADA newly transferred from Virginia, Tobin thought bitterly--he left the office and returned to his apartment. It had seemed like such a simple plan at the time, but he ran into a swarm of reporters the instant he left the office. This wasn’t unusual, especially when dealing with big cases, but in this instance, the attention was highly unwarranted. Fortunately, security was quick to pick up on his distress and extracted him before he was swallowed by the crowd.
It took some cloak-and-dagger tactics from there on out, including sending a decoy lawyer (who was working on a multiple homicide case), sneaking out an emergency exit, and arranging for a private car with tinted windows to take him home. There was another crowd outside his building, but fortunately, security back at work had called the police, and they were waved into the underground lot with little hassle. There were a few lurking reporters hiding behind cars, but a mad dash, and his driver tackling one to the ground, and he was home free.
Falling back against lift’s wall, he let out a long sigh, feeling drained. Luckily, no reporters had gotten into the building, so the hallway was blissfully clear of anybody as he dragged himself to the door and let himself in. It was exactly as he’d left it that morning: case materials all over his coffee table, Nicky’s autopsy reports covering half the surfaces in his kitchen, and breakfast half-eaten teetering on the edge of the kitchen sink. The television was on, but its volume was so low it was a whisper, his and Nicky’s favorite background noise.
In many respects, it was a comfort to return to this, to home, and for an instant, he felt himself unwind and know, deep down, that it would be alright.
Then his phone rang. And his cell phone. And his computer made a pinging sound that indicated he had an email, followed by another, and another.
That was it. Gone was the cool, relaxed demeanor of Tobin Hayes. Letting out a growl, he ripped the battery from his phone and threw it across the room, followed by a savage yank to pull the phone cord from the wall. Then the computer pinged again, and letting out an angered cry, he swung out his arm, knocking the flat screen monitor and its speakers to the floor with a loud crash. He felt himself shaking, frustrated and angry and feeling terrified that he’d driven Nicky away this morning.
Unable to leave without being harassed, and unable to face anymore pictures of himself and his boyfriend--possibly ex-boyfriend--Tobin retreated to the bedroom with the made bed, crawled under the covers, and hugged Nicky’s pillow close, breathing in his scent. It made him feel safe, and helped him block out the horrors of the day; along with the nightmares of the future.
~*()*~
“Judge Amy Gray had no comment regarding the controversy surrounding ASA Tobin Hayes. Judge Gray presided over the case that catapulted Mr. Hayes’ career into the State Attorney’s office. State Attorney Jonathan Ashworth, Mr. Hayes’ previous employer, could not be reached for comment.”
Tobin moaned at the verbal assault, opened his eyes, and found a hand resting by his head. A minute later, he felt something ruffle his hair softly, and let out a quit, desperate sigh. The rage from earlier was gone, but the guilt was still hovering, the fear, the despair. But now Nicky was here, and he has trying to sooth him by resting a hand on the back of his neck.
“Nice job,” the voice wasn’t as chipper as it was this morning, but it was still warm, sunny, even. “You always said you hated that monitor, but wow. At least you didn’t hurt your hand.”
“Nicky…” Tobin wasn’t in the mood for any teasing today--tonight? He wasn’t sure what time it was.
A bearded face appeared, a concerned look on Nicky’s face despite the light tone, his blue eyes bright and searching. “You are okay, right?”
And that was so Nicky, not worrying about the mess out in the apartment or about how rude Tobin had been, just worrying about his well-being. “No,” he finally answered, reaching out to curl his own fingers around the ones resting on the bed. “I…and you…” He wasn’t sure how to explain it, to say what he was feeling.
Nicky quirked his shy, crooked smile, and stroked Tobin’s neck gently. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Tobin glanced to the window. “We can’t escape them.” He’d seen reporters hound lawyers before, hell, they’d hounded him before. This was a big enough topic there was no safe place they could go.
Nicky pulled away though, standing up and walking to the closet. “I took some vacation, and your boss said you’re suspended, so come on.” He rifled through Tobin’s dry cleaning and tossed a pair of jeans and a green button-down onto the bed, over his feet. “Up up,” Nicky was bouncing on the balls of his heels, the way he had when he’d thought he’d found a medallion from the Dali Lama at that garage sale.
Tobin pushed himself up on an arm, using the other to rub the sleep crust from his eyes. “I don’t feel like-”
“Just get dressed,” Nicky found Tobin’s overnight bag and started putting his clothes in it. He paused while lifting a pair of sneakers, smiling gently. “Trust me, Tobin.” It was that pleading voice, the one that he used whenever he wanted Tobin to cave.
Sighing, Tobin crawled out from the covers and starting putting on what Nicky had thrown onto the bed, tossing longing looks towards the bathroom. He hated to get out of bed without showering, it was habit. Then Nicky blocked the door and crossed his arms. Obviously, whatever the coroner had planned, he didn’t have to be clean for it.
Tucking his shirt into his jeans, he left the top two buttons undone and found sandals by his feet. “Nicky, the beach and I-”
Nicky picked up the bag and waved his hand. “Just come one. We need to get going.” He grabbed Tobin’s arm and dragged him through the apartment.
Tobin stumbled, wincing as he saw the mess in his office, and the damage done to the wall by his phone (he was always made the pitcher of the office softball team for a reason). Then they were in the hallway and the elevator and Tobin used the pause to slip on his sandals, hopping on first one foot then the other, as he fastened the Velcro.
Catching his reflection in the elevator doors, he grimaced again. He had horrible bed head, and while he liked to have a little bed head--it made him look rakish, and great on TV--right now it could almost be defined as a rat’s nest. His face was pale, and his eyes looked puffy, though he couldn’t think of why. His shirt was a little twisted, the buttons not lining up along his chest, and his jeans were riding a little low without a belt to hold them in place.
Then Nicky grabbed his arm and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows. “You know, someone once told me I’d make a great mortician.” He was still smiling as he finished with the sleeve and reached up to mess with his hair. “Not that you look like a corpse, but they said I have a good eye.” Nicky tilted his head, resting his hands in Tobin’s hair.
Tobin could smell the formaldehyde on Nicky’s arm, and he felt his neck grow warm. To most people the smell was a repellant, but Tobin had too many good memories associated with that smell, and it made him relax enough to lean forward and kiss Nicky. A brief one, sweet and warm and more of his tension melted away.
Nicky flapped his hands excitedly, then placed his hands on either side of his face and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. “Better?”
“Yes.” And it was true, knowing that Nicky was going to stay with him, that he had someone to care for him in his downward spiral. “I’m sorry-”
“For what?” Nicky seemed baffled, then flapped a hand to the side, remembering the morning. “You were caught off guard. I get it. Remember when that mob witness suddenly recanted on the stand? You were just as snappish.”
Which Tobin hadn’t even considered, that he was acting totally normal for him. Of course Nicky would be the one to point that out to him. “You know that I, even with the picture, we,” he struggled for words again. The problem with being a lawyer was that he could say ‘this man is guilty’ fifty ways without actually saying that, yet when it came to being direct and honest, that was a little more difficult. Not for some lawyers, but he couldn’t compartmentalize as well as some others.
Nicky, who knew him and was a genius, stroked his face one more time, then let go and picked up the bag as the elevator reached the garage. “Come on.” He headed not for Tobin’s car, but for a white Kia parked in the visitor’s spot. Pulling out a set of keys, he popped the trunk and tossed the bag in.
“So where are we going,” Tobin asked as he opened the passenger door.
“Someplace.” Nicky climbed in, buckled up, then pulled a set of sunglasses from his pocket and handed them to Tobin.
They were Tobin’s favorite pair, the ones he always wore when they drove out on the weekends. Feeling a warm tingle in his chest, he put the glasses on, put his seat back, and let Nicky whisk him away.
~*()*~
Tobin didn’t really focus on where they were going, just let the motion of the car lull him into a semi-sleeping state. How Nicky had evaded the press outside the parking garage, he didn’t know, but frankly, he didn’t care. He was just about to go back to napping when the car stopped and Nicky rested a hand on his stomach. “We’re here?”
“Yup!” Nicky sounded even happier now. “Come on.” He got out and Tobin heard the trunk open. Putting the seat back up, Tobin looked at the brick and blue house, a bit puzzled. They were in the suburbs, west of the city--Tobin had an excellent sense of direction, even when he wasn’t paying attention--in a place they’d never gone before. Then the door was open and Nicky was there, rubbing his shoulder. “Coming?”
Tobin followed silently, not even surprised that Nicky had a key to the place. He was about to tell him that a hotel room was fine, that he didn’t have to rent a house, but then they’re inside and Tobin saw a living room that could only belong to one Nicky Elder. The single bookcase was filled with medical journals, the glass coffee table had piles of travel magazines, and there were newspapers draped over the couch, the exact same way they ended up every day at Tobin’s apartment.
“I called the local police chief--I helped him once on this weird homicide that seemed to involve poison but--anyway,” Nicky shut the door, “he’ll keep the press away.”
Tobin touched the couch, brown and ratty and old. Nicky must’ve had it since college. “You never said you had a place.”
“I liked staying at your place.” Nicky headed down the short hallway, but Tobin stayed to explore the living room. The doctor vanished briefly into a room, then returned bag-less. “And I travel a lot. Besides,” Nicky wrapped his arms around Tobin, “I wanted to be with you.”
Tobin felt himself melt into the hug. This was…this was just what he needed. “I,” he ducked his head to kiss Nicky, “love you.”
Nicky hugged him tighter, returning the kiss enthusiastically; but before anything more could happen, the doorbell rang. Tobin jumped, and Nicky looked sheepish. “Sorry. Groceries.” He went to the door.
Tobin sighed and sat back on the couch, sinking almost to the frame and crinkling many of the papers. He supposed it was just as well. Going out would only attract the paparazzi, and this way he could collect himself without fear of having another breakdown. He rested his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, Nicky was sitting next to him, a universal remote pointed at the eighties style television.
Tobin leaned to his side, rubbing his cheek against Nicky’s shoulder. It wasn’t where they were a moment ago, but it was quiet, normal. They spent the next few hours simply watching random daytime dramas and soaking in the warmth of the suburb afternoon, and of each other.
~*()*~
Tobin didn’t come out of it until days later. Blissful days, spent in each other’s company, getting hooked on bad daytime soaps--Nicky wouldn’t let him put on the news, not even on the alarm clock radio--and helping some neighborhood kids build a model rocket that made it almost a hundred feet into the air. It was like a vacation, a real one that didn’t involve Nicky wanting to see every beach and tourist attraction around. A few days downtime where the most demanding item on the agenda was who got to be on top.
It wasn’t until that Saturday morning, while Nicky went out to scrounge for new DVDs to watch, that Tobin borrowed a newspaper from next door and was thrust back into the world. The first few pages held nothing special, but near the end, before the editorials, there was a small article on Shannon, and the scandal.
“I should sue,” he exclaimed later, after Nicky had returned and Tobin had shoved the article in his face. “How could she…she said, she promised-”
Nicky scratched his beard, eyes bright, but he was frowning. “It’s not really surprising.”
“She gave someone my position! She all but said homosexuals don’t have a place in her office!” He almost missed the hollow, shocked feeling of that first day. Tobin almost never let his temper get the best of him, but this, this had touched a nerve he hadn’t known existed.
“She’s just pandering to her constituents,” Nicky’s voice was calm, almost understanding.
“Stop taking her side!” That wasn’t what Tobin needed. He needed Nicky’s support, wanted him to be as furious with Shannon as he was; not play devil’s advocate. “Why the hell aren’t you outraged by this?!”
Nicky sighed. “What can we do? Being angry won’t fix anything.”
“I’ll tell you what I can do. I’ll…I’ll…” He wanted to say sue, but she was a State’s Attorney. She wasn’t stupid enough to proclaim her stance on gays. It was phrased as a pseudo-personal attack on Tobin’s conduct regarding who he dated. And unfortunately, the public was buying it hook, line, and sinker. He shook, feeling hurt and angry and a million other things he wasn’t sure how to interpret, only that he needed to do something, anything.
“She didn’t fire you,” Nicky finally said, pushing on Tobin’s shoulders hard so that he’d sit on the edge of the bed.
“She as good as did!”
“So you’ll find a position, somewhere else. Where they won’t care who you sleep with.” Nicky sat next to him, running a hand up his thigh. “It’s for the best.”
“Stop it,” Tobin said bitterly. “Don’t look for a silver lining. This is…is…wrong!” Tobin felt himself flush as his extensive vocabulary failed him at this crucial moment.
“Yes, it is,” Nicky agreed, keeping his voice as neutral as possible for him (which was still a bit too cheerful, in Tobin’s opinion). “And it’s a good thing your far away from all of it, because the last thing the media needs to see is you blowing up at your boss.”
Tobin shot him a glare, but couldn’t deny that Nicky was right. “I was at the top, you know.”
“You’ll be there again.”
“Easy for you to say. You weren’t outted and fired from your job.”
“No, but I have this crazy boyfriend who’s furious at the world and broke a five-hundred dollar monitor.” Nicky squeezed his leg. “And that’s as on top as I need to be.”
Tobin rolled his eyes at that, but felt a little of his anger seep away at the statement. “I hate when you do that.”
“No you don’t,” and the happy tone was back. Nicky picked up the newspaper and ripped it in half, right down the middle of Shannon’s picture. He tossed it aside, then leaned against Tobin. “Now stop brooding. We’ve got three more days before we’re due back, and I intend to have a matching set of mood rings from the seventies by then.”
Tobin groaned, but inside he was grinning. Leave it to Nicky to go for normalcy when the world was tuned on its ear. “Matching set?”
Nicky grinned, kissing Tobin briefly on the cheek before heading for the classified section of the newspaper. “Diamonds aren’t as much fun.”
~*()*~
Okay, so maybe his career was heading for the toilet, maybe he had been blasted by the neo-conservatives (ironically, his own political party) for his lifestyle, and he was going to have to give up both his apartment and a job he loved. By the time he returned to the city, Tobin still felt on top of the world, and judging by the bright green color of Nicky’s mood ring, he was willing to bet his boyfriend was feeling the exact same way.