The Voyeur within

By Livvy

Author's note: I didn't write this one it wrote itself. I tried to write a typical Livvy story but this guy in my head just wouldn't shut up so I wrote his story instead.

Summary: Someone is always watching but does that mean they know what is going on?

Feedback: boy do I love feedback!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters DEK does. No I tell a lie the voyeur is mine all mine. But DEK if you want him I'll lend him to you and I promise I won't even ask for much in exchange. Oh and as a redhead of Irish descent I feel I am authorized to make the comments I do in this story. So if you are redheaded and Irish don't sue me I'm just stating what I've been told all of my life.

*~*~*~*~*

The two lawyers sat stoically on the cold hard bench. Their quiet contemplative demeanors in stark contrast to the wild enraged beings who no more than ten minutes ago I locked into the cell. I've had many lawyers come through these doors. In fact I'm sure I've even had these two before but I've never seen anything like what went on here earlier. Lawyers in contempt it's not that unusual an occurrence. In fact it happens on such a regular enough basis that I know fairly well how they will react to it. Quite often you find it's deliberate. The lawyer knows which of the judge's buttons to push and sometimes the best way to make their point is to push these buttons. Spending a few hours in a cell is a small price to pay for the advantage they feel it will bring them. It's a ploy; a tactic, a means of gaining jury sympathy and putting pressure on the judge. How could the jury not believe the lawyer who cares so intently for the client that they are willing to go to jail for them? Little does the jury know the lawyer is actually quite pleased to spend that time in a cell. Pleased because, having placed the lawyer in contempt once, the judge often feels the pressure to show no malice, to show they don't hold a grudge and are therefore more likely to be lenient towards them in court the next day. Well that's what the lawyer hopes anyway. How often it works out for them I don't know. But when you consider the number of repeat offenders I get in here I guess it works out often enough. Sure there are also times when it is unplanned. There are times when emotion has just got the better of the lawyer and they've gone too far. But what you generally find is, once they are led away from the courtroom, the emotion subsides. They'll calmly walk to the cell where they'll sit and sulk until such time as they're released. But not these two. These two were dragged kicking and screaming from the courtroom. It took six bailiffs to get them out of the room and I heard them screaming the whole way down the hallway. To look at them now you'd never believe they were the same two people.

When he was thrown into the cell. Yeah I can hear you now saying "what a cliche thrown in jail" but, I tell you what, that's what happened this time. They literally had to throw him in. No calmly walking in and sitting peacefully for this guy. No he fought every step of the way. He was a wild man. It took two men just to get him through the door and I guess they were a little annoyed and frustrated at him because they gave a bit of a shove and he stumbled in. So I stand by what I said they threw him in. She however walked in of her own accord but to be perfectly honest she was the scarier of the two. Sure she'd stopped screaming and struggling but she was by no means calm. She was downright scary. She walked in and turned around and glared. Ice cold hatred was in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat. I've already used one cliche I may as well use another "If looks could kill". All the expletives and invectives hurled from his mouth had absolutely no affect on me. I've heard them all before. But her look! I'll be seeing that when I close my eyes tonight I'm sure. Ok, so where was I? That's right I was saying he was thrown in. I swear the guy needed a straight jacket. He had completely lost it. If it wasn't for the look in her eyes I would have been concerned at putting them in a cell together but orders are orders and that look ... well lets just say she looked to me like she could take care of herself. The man who goes up against her would have to be a braver man than I am and, I must say until now, I thought I was pretty tough.

Anyway what was I saying? Oh yeah that's right he was thrown in and this bit makes me laugh. The guy when he recovered his footing actually looked around for something to throw. He was in a real temper tantrum and I should know I see enough of them at home with my two year old. They say lawyers are smart well I've found even the smartest people do some pretty dumb things. You could see the desperate look in his eyes as he scanned the cell for something to use; something he could physically lash out at. You'd think as a defense attorney he'd have been in enough cells to know everything is nailed down. I was watching and laughing to myself thinking "Well hello it's a cell not a hotel room." He got the hint eventually and I must say the guy is resourceful. He took off his jacket and started flinging that around. He pelted it against the bench, the floor, the walls, everywhere. Whack went the jacket and he's start on some tirade, whack, whack, whack, scream, swear, shout! What he said, well that doesn't bear repeating, let's just say I haven't lead a sheltered life but there are places even I don't go. I was amazed. He just didn't look the type. I looked at the paperwork on my desk, Donnell. Irish. I guess that explains it. Irish tempers; the bane of my existence. At least he doesn't have the red hair to go with the temper like my wife does. The only thing scarier than an angry Irish wife is an angry red-headed Irish wife. Although watching my two year old red-headed daughter in action I think I'm soon going to learn what real fear is. Anyway I've gone off track again haven't I. What was I saying. Oh yeah, whack, the jacket, right. And herein lies the tragedy of this story. That was a real nice suit the guy was wearing. I'm no expert on fashion but I know I'm never going to be able to afford a suit like that. And there is no way he'll ever be able to wear that jacket again. He was pretty harsh with it. Whack whack it went. The first one made me jump. It was such an unexpected noise. I was tempted to go in and confiscate it but, to be honest, I was intimidated. Not by him but by her. She didn't flinch. Not one muscle. I jumped a foot and she didn't even flinch. I felt ... well I felt that, if she could stand it locked in there with him, then what sort of man would I look like if I let it get to me out here.

But it did get to me. I don't know what was worse his fury or her... I have no idea what was going on with her. I heard she gave as good as him in the courtroom and I'd heard her as they were coming through the hallway but now ... well I could see by her eyes she wasn't finished but what was she waiting for? I must admit I was fascinated. I set myself up so I could watch them without being seen. I just had to know how this was going to play out. Most days my job is fairly tedious and so far today had been no exception so this was an opportunity too good to miss. It was exhilarating. I just knew it was going to be a story I could regale my mates with later. A story that would survive through time. One I could entertain the grandkids with. I was hooked. It was like my own little soap opera playing out in Technicolor before me. Privacy be damned I wanted to see and hear everything. I never knew I was a voyeur before this. But as of this moment I am. Oh my God!

I've just seen the most amazing thing. She was standing there looking out with that icy glare of hers while he lashed out like a madman behind her. Then without warning she turned and started to walk. Whether she realized it or not I don't know but she was walking right into it. He was mid swing and when his arm finished it's rotation he was going to hit her. Not deliberately but it was going to happen anyway. I jumped up from my chair. I just couldn't watch and yet my eyes remained glued to them. In his frenzy he somehow noticed her and amazingly he managed to pull up just in time. He let go of the jacket mid fling and it flew across the cell landing in a crumpled heap in the opposite corner. He couldn't as easily stop his arm though so he threw himself off balance so he wouldn't connect with her on his follow though. As a result he also ended up in a heap on the floor. She calmly passed him by and sat down on the bench. Breathless he looked up at her. She reached out her hand, he took it, she gave a little tug, he got to his feet, walked over and sat down next to her.

And that was it! He just sat down as calm as you could be. I swear my mouth was open wide enough to drive a truck in. I was speechless. I looked around but there's no one else here. There's no one I can turn to and say "What the hell just happened here?" In the blink of an eye he's gone from a madman to cool, calm and collected, and despite the jacket flung in the corner, a professional looking man. This is where I need the remote control. I need to watch it again to see what I missed the first time. Did she do something to calm him? If so, how did she do it? I didn't see anything. Was it a look in her eye that I couldn't see from my position? Was it just some kind of unspoken communication between the two of them? What happened? This can't be it! There has to be more to the story. There has to be more. It can't just end with him sitting on the bench elbows on knees head resting on clenched hands while she sits playing with the ring on her finger. What happened to the ice cold killer and the madman? What happened to my soap opera? What happened to my story?

Hang on something's happening again. He's taken a deep breath and looking at her. Without even turning she says, "Don't". Ok so here it comes. That was just the calm before the storm. He'll let her have it now. They'll turn on each other now. This could be good ... or bad. Should I watch? Of course I shouldn't but I'm going to. Wild horses couldn't drag me away from this. But ... hang on ... He just turned away without a word. Ok now he's getting up and walking to the jacket. He gives it a bit of a shake as if he's just left in on a chair overnight. Sorry buddy it's going to take more than a shake to fix that. He doesn't notice but I do she's watching his every move and I swear she stifled a laugh when she saw the expression on his face as he looked at the jacket. He walks back and sits down placing the jacket carefully on the bench next to him. It's a bit late for caution now but he seems to be under some misguided opinion the jacket is still savable. Hey maybe he has a really good tailor. Either that or he believes in miracles. "Bobby?" she says turning to look at him "What got into you?" There's not a hint of malice in the question, if anything, I swear she sounds amused. He shrugs looks at her and says, "What got into you?" She gives a little laugh shaking her head and says, "I don't know!" He smiles and they both lean back against the wall. She places her hand in his and the two lawyers sit calmly together on the bench.

Ok where's the paper work on these two. There's something I'm missing here. What's their story? This doesn't make any sense at all. I think I need some background information. With all the courthouse gossips I'm sure I can find someone with some dirt on them.