"Sleazy" Is Every Lawyer's Middle Name

"Hey, Addock!"

Stephen LeBlanc waved his hand in the air, chuckling. "Come on, man, look over here--oh wait! I guess you can't see, huh? Well, it's your buddy Stephen."

"I know who it is," Addock replied, though he refused to turn to face Stephen. He was facing a wall, running his fingers along pieces of paper in a file. "What do you want? I'm busy."

"I just want to say good luck, in the trial today." He walked up behind him, placing his hands on his shoulders.

"What've you got here, by the way--something I should see?"

"You can look at it, but unless you can read Braille, it will do you no good," he replied, even though he had visibly flinched when the man had touched him.

"I've been taking an evening class," he replied, patting him on the back. "Say, ready for another exhilarating defeat today? You seem to love losing a whole lot, so I thought I'd help you get psyched for it."

"This case is too important for you to mouth off like this!" he snapped, turning in the vague direction he knew Stephen was. "I will not lose. This is not like any of the other petty cases. This is murder and I will not let your client get away with it."

"My clients have walked on worse before. Do you not read the papers? Oh, sorry." He turned Addock slightly, so they were face to face.

"I read the papers," he replied calmly, tapping his cane with distaste. "If you think this is the same thing, you're wrong. And I will prove that you're wrong in court."

Addock swallowed. He had sworn that if he failed this trial, he would quit being a lawyer. He obviously wasn't good enough, if he couldn't even do this right.

"Don't worry," he said, turning and walking toward the courtroom. "I know what you like, so I'll save a big slice of failure pie for you. See you on the dance floor, amigo!" He laughed, slipping his hands into the pockets of his expensive suit.

-x-

It was a long trial. Longer than any he had ever been in. And now they waited. Waited for the jury to make a decision. He sat down on one of the benches, waiting patiently. It had been hours, already. Four, maybe? He reviewed the evidence himself, thinking heavily. He had worked harder on this case than any other, but...he didn't know if it was enough.

Stephen winked at him, still chuckling to himself.

"Ready to lose?" he asked. "I winked, just so you know."

"If I lose, then you won't see me again," he said, his fingers running along a paper.

"Oh, don't make silly threats--easy to beat suckers like you are the highlight of my day. You make my job like taking candy from the blind--no offense."

"Yes..." he said, mostly to himself. "That's why, if I fail, I'm quitting being a prosecutor and taking over my family's business."

"Losing isn't a legitimate business," he said, giving him an odd look. "Come on, now--why throw in the towel? I'll be so lonely without you."

"A prosecutor whose never won a case?" he said, looking up towards Stephen. "I'm not a very good lawyer. I work hard and never win any cases. My career is looking bleak...it's probably time to throw in the towel."

He smiled, putting the papers into a folder.

"Even if I win...maybe it's time for a different career, anyway. I'm not very sure I can be a good florist, being blind...but I suppose I can try."

"Well, babe, I can tell you one thing--I'll miss ya." He laughed as they were called into the courtroom again, even helping Addock to his feet.

"Come on, let's go watch your career end."

-x-

Stephen took another sip of water from the drinking fountain, his face white. He never drank tap water; he had never felt so thirsty. It was like a huge, awful joke, but it wasn't anywhere near April. He had never felt true nausea before.

Addock had been escorted to a bench, as he had been unable to even stand. He sat there, unmoving. He did not smile, but it was beyond obvious that he was happy. He had to call his mother, but his hands were shaking. He barely managed to his phone and to dial using the Braille numbers.

He spoke to her in a hushed tone, partially in English, partially in Egyptian.

Stephen LeBlanc stared at the blind man across the hall. Wrath burned in his eyes.

He may have won this battle, but it wouldn't last for long. After all--he must've cheated somehow.

-x-

He rang the doorbell, bottle of champagne in hand. He knew Addock would be home; where else did the man have to go? He was blind.

"Who's at my door?" asked Addock, from behind Stephen. He was carrying a bag of groceries in one hand, his guide dog in the other. His guide dog was a tall Doberman Pinscher, tan and blue in color.

Stephen turned around immediately, all grins and cheese.

"Why it's your best friend, here to celebrate your big win, buddy. I brought champagne."

Addock looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He fingered the grocery bag in his hand.

"I don't drink," he finally said. "You're blocking the door. Please move, or Maggie will bite you."

He stepped to the side.

"Come on, buddy. This is a peace offering."

Even as he walked up the steps, Maggie was sniffing at Stephen. She didn't look impressed.

"Why do you think I would believe you?" he asked, setting down his groceries and pulling his keys from his pocket. "You scam and lie for a living. Or did you think I forgot?

"No, leave me be, Mr. LeBlanc. Unless you have a legitimate reason for being at my house."

"You caught me, Mr. Addock," he said, bowing theatrically. "I'm here to confess that I've had a homosexual crush on you for months. Let me inside and we can discuss it."