Clodagh – KLOH-dah

Aislin – ASH-linn

MONDAY, April 7, 2014

He was looking at his drink, probably had not seen her yet. She glanced towards the door then searched for the bartender who was opening a new bottle of wine. She gauged the time and considered making a run for it. She looked across the bar at the familiar figure. His posture had not changed. She glanced back towards the door again, hesitating. Two things happened as she tensed her leg to push up from the barstool and make a run for it, the bartender set a full glass of wine in front of her and the gentleman across the bar glanced up and locked his intense blue eyes on her.

Too late.

…

#smut #ptsd

SUNDAY, November 23, 2008

"I don't know what's worse, not being able to remember your attack or not being able to forget it."

Olivia started awake with a gasp. Another dream, or nightmare rather, it came back to her in pieces, which she did not want to think about. She wanted to go back to sleep but sighed and rolled out of bed, knowing that there was absolutely zero chance of turning over and going back to sleep at this point. She padded into the kitchen in her comfy sleep pants and t-shirt and filled the tea kettle with water and set it over a burner. Olivia picked through the tea that she had picked up at a little specialty shop in Chinatown recently. The eccentric owner had recommended several items for Olivia and she picked out the blend of chamomile, turmeric and ginger that would most likely to coax her back to sleep.

She looked around the apartment. It was quiet. Too quiet. She took her tea back to the bedroom and switched on her clock radio. It was kind of redundant. Did anyone really need a clock radio anymore? Apparently it might be good for something tonight, she thought, turning the dial past all the static until she heard something audible. She should have grabbed her IPod and brought it back but the longer she was awake the less likely she was to go back to sleep. This was going to be a long three days until she went back on shift. Seventy-two hours. It certainly would not take that long to clean the apartment. It was already clean enough for her.

The dulcet tones of the radio host poured soothingly over her. No music, she thought turning to place her empty teacup on the nightstand and sliding deeper down in the bed to focus more thoughtfully on topic of conversation floating across the airwaves. It seemed to be some kind of radio call-in show and the host was speaking in soothing tones about a recent caller giving her an update after surviving an apparent deep bout with depression. Olivia felt an idea enter her head about activities that might occupy her time off just as she drifted back off to sleep.

Olivia woke up early the next morning and made an appointment to volunteer at the suicide prevention hotline during her days off. With the holidays coming up they needed extra volunteers. In recent years Olivia had let her opportunities to volunteer wane as she had been consumed by her career and cases, usually working on the holidays. She resolved to make better use of her free time. Well, life had thrown her a few curveballs lately. Maybe it would benefit her own needs to assist others through the often pain filled holidays.

"I can protect her from the damage."

"No, you can't. You should know that better than anyone."

Olivia let the words of a recent conversation wash over her then took a deep breath and tried to let the feelings go. She knew it was impossible to protect everyone. Looking around her empty apartment, she thought to herself, maybe she should work on a New Year's resolution of her own. Maybe it was time to give Dr. Beresford a call.

…

#lead

TUESDAY, February 10, 2009

Ed sat in his office thumbing through the Keppler complaint still sitting on his desk. He pushed it aside thinking he could type up his report and submit it later, what a colossal waste of time. It was pretty much a moot point now anyway. Ed shook his head. He had apologized today. He was not given that opportunity often and it actually felt refreshing, an investigation into a group of cops that actually had done their jobs following procedures and put away the bad guy, almost a novelty in his day, hell, his entire week. Well, no doubt it would come around to them again. It always did.

He picked up his cell phone, browsed through his contacts then contemplated the name in the display. Finally he selected call and waited for the voicemail to pick up again. It was obvious by now that his calls were being dodged.

"It's me. Again. I know you're angry with me and you have every right to be but I need to talk to you. It's important. Please call me back," Ed tried to think of something else to say but came up blank so he just paused like an idiot before finally just hanging up.

…

Ed left work early, took the subway towards home then changed lines heading to a little quaint coffee shop in Washington Heights. He took in the wide variety of coffees to choose from as he waited for the barista to take his order. He ordered something that looked relatively interesting but hopefully drinkable then picked a table for two in the corner to wait. Ed pulled out his phone and scrolled through the text messages to find the response that he deemed significant enough to abandon his office for the afternoon and take the one up Broadway at three in the afternoon. The text was brief, almost perfunctory, just the words "meet me for coffee" and a place and time.

He gasped a little when he saw her enter the establishment then head over to the counter and place an order. He observed while she waited, seemingly uninterested in looking at the other occupants. Her hair whipped about her shoulders abruptly as she grasped her coffee cup and turned in his direction and made a beeline straight for the table where he was sitting. She removed a large rather fashionable looking bag from her shoulder and placed it carefully across the back of her chair before taking a seat.

"What do you want?" she demanded taking a sip of her coffee, glaring at him insolently with his blue eyes.

"Gee, it's good to see you too, Saoirse," he said dryly sipping his own brew.

"You can't just come in here and expect me to treat you like you've been there all along. You don't know me anymore. You don't know a damn thing about me.

"So tell me," Ed sat back in his chair, casually crossing his legs as if he had all the time in the world to listen to his daughter tell him every detail of her life from the last seven years. She looked at him uncertainly not sure where to go from here.

"Dad, what the fuck?" Saoirse finally responded.

"Saoirse, I apologize for not making sure that you knew that I was available to you anytime you needed me. I'm sorry for the way things went down between me and your mother. I didn't handle it the right way. Obviously," Ed paused, not really sure what to say next, that was two apologies handed out in the same day. Soon he would be a pro at this.

"Dad, look, I don't care if you're homo, or bi, or pan, whatever," Saoirse started.

"Pan?" Ed questioned. "What the hell is that? Some kind of daddy complex?"

"No, Dad," Saoirse said rolling her eyes at her father's lack of awareness. "It's when you're attracted to someone regardless of their gender identity." Ed continued to give her a confused look.

"There's a difference?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, you know, like if you wanted to date someone like that chick from that weird Kevin Spacey movie you like, what was her name? Lady Chelsea or something or other," Saoirse explained. Ed's eyes widened.

"Okay. I'm starting to get a little uncomfortable with this conversation now, can we move on to the point?" Ed said awkwardly.

"Show up!" Saoirse exclaimed. "That's the point."

Ed's eyes widened again and he looked around self-consciously. "Alright. Message received," Ed sighed. "How do you propose I do that and still keep the younger ones free of your mother's tirades about me?"

"Well, you and Cillian have managed to find a way to communicate without having any sort of problem, right?" Saoirse confirmed. "We just have to find a way for you to do the same with Clodagh. She's a lot less assertive than Cillian, and she's seriously afraid of setting Mom off."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Ed agreed. "I'd appreciate any ideas that you might have on that front. She's more of a homebody and I definitely can't just show up at the house. Your mother would scream the place down if she found me there."

"Maybe we can figure out something for her to do with Nana that might give you the opportunity to see her more often. I'll think about it." Saoirse said thoughtfully. "You're real problem is going to be Aislin, ya know."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that. Neither you nor Cillian have said a word about Aislin. What's going on with her? Is she okay?" Ed asked resignedly.

"She's angry. So am I."

"Yes, you made that abundantly clear, Saoirse. I am well aware of your feelings on the matter." Ed said ruefully.

"But Aislin, she's angry at the world, angry with you, angry with Mom, angry with everyone. She won't talk to me, or Clodagh or Cillian about any of it. The more Cillian comes to see you the angrier she gets with you and with him. Don't worry though, she'd never tell Mom or let it slip and cause a problem for Cillian. I think she wishes she had been brave enough to just show up at your place," Saoirse confided.

"So why doesn't she?" Ed asked.

"You're going to have to make the first move with her, Dad, and the second, and the third, for however long it takes. Girl holds a grudge. Mom grounded her last month when we snuck out to go to a party and she got caught but I didn't. I'll never hear the end of it."

Ed leveled his piercing blue gaze on his eldest daughter and crossed his arms in his most intimidating posture. She merely returned his look with the same intensity until Ed's eyes start to crinkle around the edges and with his lips still firmly planted together tries to keep from chuckling at his own daughter returning his standard death stare with her own.

"Alright, alright," he finally said, lifting his hand in her direction, "apparently that doesn't work on you anymore, and I guess I don't really wanna know about this party."

Saoirse stuck her tongue out at him and reached for her coffee.

"So, Cillian says you're editor of the school paper this year," Ed said proudly, "How do you like it?"

"It's more of a group class project for journalism class, I'm just kind of the team leader," she replied. "It's been a lot more work than I expected and along with my blog, I'm just too busy for any other extra activities this year."

"Blog?"

"Yeah, I started it a couple of years ago as a project for a composition class, but it really took off earlier last year and I got a bunch of sponsors. It's been very lucrative. That will really help with college."

"Yeah, I wanted to talk with you a little about that. Do you know where you're going? Where have you applied?"

"Columbia, CUNY, NYU, Emerson and Berkley," she listed off various schools.

"Berkeley?" Ed questioned and felt a rush of anxiety flood over him. Selfish, he knew, but the idea that Saoirse would be an adult and finally able to see him at will only to relocate to the West Coast was heartbreaking.

"My other choices were all pretty much local so I thought I should go for at least one college elsewhere and they have a good journalism department."

"Did you visit the campus?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, Mom, Uncle Owen and Emma went with me last fall to visit the campus and look around. Still, I don't think I'm a California girl. I'm too New York."

Ed smiled at this admission, a girl after his own heart. Ed liked to travel and visit other places but he never felt at home the way he did in New York City. After being away from it for almost a decade, he just could not imagine living anywhere else.

"About tuition," Ed started.

"Depends on where I go but Nana's got at least a year covered. Local and practical are probably the best choices since there are four of us to put through college, that will stretch the money and we won't need room and board," Saoirse shrugged. "CUNY would probably be best but I'm thinking I'd rather go to NYU even if it does cost almost double."

"I know Ma set up funds for all her grandchildren but I did the same for the four of you. I had some money saved up after I got out of the army. I used part of it to supplement my own college, part for the down payment on the house and the rest I put away for you guys to go to college."

"We didn't even exist yet." Saoirse said surprised that her father had started saving money for them over a decade before she was even born.

"I know. But I knew I wanted you and I wanted to give you the choice to do it another way. I'm not even sure I can send one of you to Columbia for four years but I can probably manage to get you through NYU with Ma's help and hopefully some scholarships?" he looked at her in askance.

"I'm hoping for some awards with relation to the paper plus I have the blog money," Saoirse added selflessly, "If I can pay as much of my own way as possible then that will leave more of yours and Nana's money for the others."

"Exactly how lucrative is this blog?" Ed asked surprised that Saoirse suggested it would help save tuition money for her siblings.

Saoirse looked uncomfortable and proceeded to study the seam in her coffee cup.

"Saoirse?"

"Umm…I could probably pay my own way through Columbia for a couple of years…so far," she said biting her lip and looking up at him.

"What the hell?" Ed exclaimed then looked around mumbling a sorry at the glances from the other patrons. He lowered his voice. "Does your mother know? What the hell is this blog about?"

"Well, I ended up using the blog on another project for my sociology class, a study on certain types of behavior," Saoirse said. "Most of our grade on the project depended on how much traffic we got on our blog so I aimed the subject matter at a particular group then I asked for interviews from some high profile people which ended up doubling as a journalism project too, which led to me making team leader of the newspaper. And no, Mom does not know what my blog is about, she calls it my little writing project and I'm sure she thinks it probably about clothes or some shit."

"Quit talking around the question, Saoirse," Ed pursed his lips and stared at her intently until she relented.

"Okay, okay. I made a huge mistake on my second blog post but it ended up turning out to be a blessing in disguise, I guess. I was hanging out in a chatroom online one night and one of the other kids in the room started talking about suicide. He goes to another school but I managed to get him to agree to meet me after school the next day."

"Saoirse, do we need to have a discussion about the safety of meeting people on the internet in person?" Ed groaned putting his head in his hands.

"No, Dad, I was careful. I picked a public place and met him for coffee just like I'm doing with you today."

"You know I'm not an Internet predator," Ed pointed out self-righteously.

"Do I?" Saoirse asked raising an eyebrow at him, "I don't know what you are these days, now do I? Do you want to hear this story or not?"

Ed gestured with a hand to continue and kept his mouth shut.

"The next day I talked to my sociology teacher and told her what happened. She sent me to speak to a counselor that she knows that deals with teen suicide prevention, I talked to him about what to say then I went to meet this boy."

"Wouldn't it have been better if he had taken this meeting? He would have been better prepared to…" Ed stopped when Saoirse raised her hand in his direction.

"Dad," she warned, "they thought he would get spooked if someone other than a teenage girl showed up. But he was close by and just a phone call or text away when I went to meet the boy. Anyways," she gave her father a pointed look and he mimicked zipping his mouth shut, "I talked to this kid, turns out that he been outed. His family freaked and he was getting seriously bullied in school. I mean, some really cruel pranks. Just having someone to vent to without judging him seemed to make him feel better. I did end up giving him the counselor's number and I told him to call me if he ever wanted to talk about what was going on. I was so overwhelmed by everything that I heard from this kid and I couldn't get it out of my mind so I wrote it all down and put it in my blog…without telling anyone what I was doing." She looked guiltily at Ed.

"Saoirse," Ed started to admonish her.

"I wasn't thinking about him. I was processing. I didn't use his name or anything," she started to defend herself, "I know, I know it was wrong. I shouldn't have posted it publically without talking to him. The response was overwhelming, both negative and positive. I thought at first that I might have to shut down the blog because people can be so hateful, but then the supportive comments started rolling in, more and more kids, and adults too, that have been through the same situation and it just spiraled into…I guess I created a monster. That's when I knew I had to tell the boy what I had done before he heard about it from someone else. He was really mad at first and I thought he wasn't going to listen to anything else I said but when I told him that it kept someone else from committing suicide, he was shocked. I showed him some of the supportive responses and when he looked at them and realized how much his story had helped others like him, he wanted to help. So I set up another blog post, interview-style, which led to another blog post where we took audience questions. Then I had requests for some other type of guests on the blog and it literally has turned into a discussion on issues and just about anything else that pertains to young adults in alternative lifestyles."

"So the money comes from ads aimed at teenagers and other young people who frequent your site?" Ed asked.

"I could probably get a lot more but I've been limiting the types of ads, trying to keep it local and to products and services that are actually positive and helpful to my readers, and I have space for the helplines and free counseling services, too."

"And taxes, do you understand what you need to do there? Is one of your teachers helping you?"

"My journalism teacher gave me some information about what to do when he realized exactly how much it had taken off. It kind of took us all by surprise. I still have a lot to figure out and I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing. I think I need to set up an LLC."

"Trevor can help you with all that. Let's set up a time when he's available, maybe you can come over and we can get it all set up for you and look at what you owe. You still have more than six weeks until tax day but let's not wait until last minute. College acceptance letters start coming in and you're going to get distracted by planning other stuff. Speaking of distracted..."

"So Trevor is the boyfriend, huh?" Saoirse asked.

"I guess you could call him that," Ed admitted, still feeling uncomfortable putting a label on their relationship.

"Cillian says that he's an attorney."

"Yeah, he's an attorney."

"What kind of attorney?"

"Criminal law."

"Gee, Dad, you sure are forthcoming," she mocked.

Ed gave her a look then continued with a little more information. "He represents a lot of white collar type criminals. People with money so he knows a lot about this kind of stuff. Where is the money? How does your mother not know about it? Her name has to be on your bank account right? You're a minor."

"She cosigned for my checking account when I got a summer job sophomore year. I asked her to sign for a savings account too the next year and she just laughed at me and made some snide comment about my being stingy with money, just like you. She probably thought I just had a couple hundred dollars not thousands. After the first couple of statements, I signed up for paperless and they come straight to my personal email account so she doesn't see them."

"Wow. So you don't think that your mom has ever seen your blog or looked at your bank account. I do not even want to think about the stuff that you kids are getting away with without our knowledge. This is just…UGH," Ed rubbed his eyes and looked at his daughter shaking his head. Maybe he needed to rethink his ideas on Siobhan parenting skills instead of giving her the benefit of the doubt. She was obviously not on top of things in the way he had previously thought. "This is so not the kind of stuff that I was hiding from my parents when I was your age." Ed sighed more concerned than ever, "Sweetheart, about all these issues that you're talking about on your blog, suicide prevention, bullying, sexuality, this is some pretty heavy stuff. Are you doing okay with that? Do you have everything you need to deal with this kind of thing? You mentioned counselors, are they helping you deal with it too?"

"I'm okay, Dad. Everyone needs someone to listen to them, including me. I keep in touch with the counselors but they're so short-handed. I've been trying to recruit more volunteers for the helpline. They always need more people to answer the phones and listen. Cillian wants to start volunteering as soon as they'll let him. He's still too young."

"Cillian would be good at that."

"Yeah, he will."

"So, plans for the summer…" Ed managed to look both sheepish and expectant at the same time.

"Just getting ready for college and working on my blog and the hotline," Saoirse replied shrugging it off.

"Well, it just so happens, that I have a graduation present for you," Ed said taking an envelope out of his pocket. "This is a voucher for two tickets for you and a person of your choosing to spend ten days in Ireland this summer. You just have to book the dates. Let me know and we'll talk about hotels and I'll foot the bill for those as well."

"You're giving me a trip to Ireland for graduation?" Saoirse gave him an incredulous look.

"Yeah. Personally, I would love to take you to Ireland myself, see the mother country along with you, but I understand if you're not comfortable with that yet. You're going to be eighteen and I suppose you're capable of that all by yourself now," Ed reluctantly sighed.

"But you really want to be the other person for the second ticket?" she said giving him suspicious look.

"No, not at all, those tickets are for you and your best friend Emma or whoever you want to take, I'd buy another ticket for myself. You don't even have to sit with me. You can even have a room on the opposite side of the hotel from me. Just don't make me have all my meals by myself?" he asked tentatively to see if she might go for it. Saoirse was quick to anger and quick to forgive but this might be too soon to ask her to let him accompany her to a foreign country for ten days.

"Let me think about it," she said still eyeing him suspiciously while looking at the contents of the envelope he had handed her. "I get these two tickets regardless?"

"Yes, those are all yours. No strings attached," Ed confirmed.

"Okay. I'll let you know," she said and started gathering her belongings. "I'll text you about a time to come over and talk to your boy-friend," she said drawing out the word with a sly smile, "about the money stuff."

"Yeah, you do that."

…

"Sorry I kept you waiting," Trevor slid into the booth across from Ed in the local Irish pub and eyed the empty pint sitting in front of him. Before he could continue a waitress slid another pint in front of Ed, picked up the empty glass and looked at Trevor expectantly. Trevor eyed the dark tone of the beer now sitting in front of Ed and ordered a Guinness. "How was your day?"

"Unbelievable," Ed replied with an unusually wide smile.

"So Saoirse showed?" Trevor smiled back at him. He'd been surprised when Ed had texted him to relay the news that his eldest had finally agreed to see him after months of voicemails and unanswered texts.

"She did," Ed replied eagerly. "She's such a remarkable young lady. The things that she told me about her life just blew my mind. Speaking of…I hope you don't mind but I volunteered your expertise to help her set up an LLC and get her taxes in order."

"Huh?" Trevor asked picking up the beer that the waitress had placed in front of him.

"Can I get you guys some food or …" she asked. Ed ordered a chicken sandwich and a side salad while Trevor asked for the fish and chips.

"So Saoirse has what she called a 'lucrative' blog," Ed told Trevor. "Some project she started for a class and it took off and is apparently making good money, enough for her to pay for a good portion of her own college education."

"Wow! That's some serious entrepreneurship right there."

"Yeah, and get this, the blog is about alternative lifestyles. She gave me the link to look up but I gotta tell ya, I'm a little afraid of what's on there. This is my kid and she was asking me shit about my own lifestyle and I didn't understand what she was talking about half of the time."

Trevor's eyes widened. "What does her mom think about all this?"

"She says she doesn't know. How can she not know?" Ed replied incredulously throwing his hands out exasperatedly. "What is Siobhan doing? Her daughter has a blog that is making thousands of dollars and she doesn't know about the money or the subject matter. Thank God on the last one or we may have a permanent houseguest soon. I'm not so sure that's a bad idea actually."

"So, are you thinking about challenging Siobhan to exercise your rights to visitation?" Trevor pushed.

"Uh, I'm not sure that's the way I would put it. I think that I'm making headway with Saoirse. In a few months, she'll be free to see me whenever and she said she'd think about letting me accompany her on the trip to Ireland."

"Ed, that's great." Trevor smiled with enthusiastic support for his partner.

"Aislin is going to be a tough nut to crack."

"Gee, so unlike yourself," Trevor remarked.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Cillian is working around things just fine in his own way and Clodagh, well, we're still trying to figure out how to get things moving along there, but I'm hopeful."

"Okay so no legal maneuvers at this point," Trevor ascertained.

"I think it would be best if we just operate under the radar, so to speak," Ed commented, leaning back in a more relaxed state and sipping his pint.

"Okay, so long as this is moving forward, I won't push you to make any legal overtures." The waitress returned to the table with their food. Trevor started to pick up a piece of fish with his fingers and quickly dropped it. "Wow, that's hot."

"Hmm…" Ed laughed at him suggestively.

"Speaking of…" Trevor trailed off, looked around and took a deep breath, "Is something going on with Benson?"

"What do you mean?" Ed asked concerned. "Did you hear something?"

"Okay. It might not be anything and you didn't hear this from me…" Trevor paused and looked around again as if he were expecting their fellow patrons to be eavesdropping, "is there some reason that she would be in a therapy group for rape survivors? Maybe she's working undercover or something?"

"I don't know," Ed replied looking disconcerted, "I'm not kept abreast of all undercover operations of every department, you know. What did you hear?"

"Well, I have a client. No names. She's a pro bono case, workman's comp. She got injured on a construction job. Anyways, she said that a few months ago, a member of her therapy group turned out to be a cop and she tried to bust her for carrying. The cop sounded a lot like Benson when she described her to me."

"What kind of therapy group?" Ed asked.

"It's a therapy group for military rape victims with PTSD."

…

#selfish #persona

FRIDAY, April 3, 2009

"So you're representing the anti-vaxxer mom?" Sandy gave him a sardonic look.

"You too?" Trevor said incredulously. "Do you want other people telling us how to raise our children? What we're doing is working. I'm happy, you're happy?" he looked at her for confirmation and she smirked in return and nodded her head. "The children are happy and thriving. It's not the 'traditional family' everyone is always going on about. Omigod, daddy lives with a man, the children will be scarred," Trevor plastered a look of mock horrified indignation on his face.

Sandy laughed at him and mock shoved his arm. It did not budge and she turned to look at him with surprise. "Wow, have you been working out?"

"Yeah, well, just trying to keep up," Trevor said looking a little sheepish then admitted, "Ed's almost half a foot shorter and almost a decade older than me and he can take me down in less than ten seconds if he has a mind to do so."

"And why would he want to do that?" Sandy tried to mask the concern on her face by turning around and starting to clear the plates leftover from the boys' snack off the island and into the dishwasher.

"Uh, because I challenged him to?" Trevor said back pedaling his train of thought, which was probably classified as too much information to share even with an amicable ex.

Sandy just shook her head, shooting him a grin. "Men and their competitiveness."

"Oh, cause you're not competitive at all," Trevor pressed his lips tightly together and slowly shook his head back and forth in an exaggerated manner.

Sandy snapped a kitchen towel in his direction.

"And she worries that I'm being abused at home," Trevor mocked, "while actually abusing me here."

"Not funny," Sandy said, turning a serious face at him. "I think the lady that came to see me today is a victim of domestic violence."

"New client?" Trevor asked concerned at the look on his ex-spouse's face.

"I don't know," she said wringing the towel in her hand then starting to wipe down the counters. "I have a feeling I may never see her again but I hope that's not the case. I know it's only April but she was totally buttoned up. She had two little boys the same age as ours and no job of her own, completely dependent on what appears to be a rather successful husband. Tragic to think about a woman trapped in that situation with no means to get out."

Trevor pushed both of his hands into his pants pockets and looked around at the condo, walking towards the windows to take in the familiar view. He suddenly wondered if the boys got confused as to whose home they were in sometimes. It was almost eerie how at home he felt in this condo when he had never even really been there for more than thirty minutes at a time. He continued to contemplate the view as he asked Sandy, "Security at your firm is good, right?"

"Yes, Trev, the security is state of the art. Our firm specializes in family law, we're prepared for the sometimes overly passionate confrontations that can escalate from such volatile situations," she stopped and fixated on his back which was turned to the room. "Something else wrong?"

Trevor sighed and turned back towards the room and head back to the kitchen. "Just thinking about an old client…" Trevor shuddered trying to shake off the memory of the way Latimer's marriage came to an abrupt end after his wife recanted her accusation of abuse against him. That was one murder case that he hadn't been sorry to lose, the son of a bitch had been too smug to take a plea. He continued with his train of thought to start the story that he wanted to tell Sandy. "One of my colleagues from law school, Matt, you may remember him?"

"Yeah," she said. "He used to go to concerts with you so I didn't have to, right?"

"Yep, that's the one. He drove down to Charlotte with me to see Jethro Tull back in '98, I think? He had a sweet ride, a Lotus, broke all our hearts when it ended up totaled in a field. Long story. Anyways, he practices family law in this quaint little town down south somewhere now. Name escapes me at the moment, office right on Main Street, directly across from the courthouse. Sounded like a nice setup. Some husband of one of his clients just walked in right off the street and started firing over the receptionist's desk directly at the wall behind it. That was the back wall of his office. Luckily the receptionist had taken a late lunch for a doctor's appointment so she wasn't sitting there at the time. Scared the shit out of his paralegal, her desk was about twenty feet away but directly adjacent. She had a view of the whole thing. She ran screaming to the back of the office and called 911 from the break room but he'd already fled."

"Oh my god. Was anyone injured? Is Matt okay?" Sandy placed a hand on Trevor's arm and gave him a squeeze.

"He's fine. Everyone's fine. The only damage was to the wall. Physical damage anyway. No one in that office will ever forget it," Trevor looked contemplatively at the hand Sandy was now rubbing down his arm consolingly then placed his own over it. "Be careful. I don't want my boys growing up without their mother."

"You're one to talk about being careful. You're the one who represents criminals. Most of my client's spouses are people who just stopped caring about their marriage," Sandy pointed out.

"And most of my criminal clients are rich white men more likely to take their own life than mine if I lose their case and they end up not so rich," Trevor replied, "My point is desperate people are capable of any number of unimaginable things. What was that guy's problem? Had he shown signs of mental illness before his wife went to a divorce lawyer? I don't know but given the situation it's easy to speculate that he could have once been just a normal guy. Why did he get a gun and shoot up a law firm? Was it out of desperation? Was he jealous? Did he think his wife was having an affair? Did they have kids? Was he afraid that he was going to lose them? Never see his kids again? What does it take to make a guy break from reality, blame his wife's divorce lawyer and think that getting rid of said lawyer will solve his problems?"

"I don't know, Trev, you can speculate about why people do the things they do all day but like you said, we are not in control of other people's actions. My firm has great security and they are trained to have a heightened awareness of the probability of desperate spouses and parents trying to get to our clients during their appointments or even at us. Don't worry about me. I'm careful to avoid those kinds of confrontations. I know how dangerous they can be."

"Okay. Just so you know. I care about you. Just because we weren't happy as a married couple does not mean that you are not one of the most important people in my life. You're the mother of my children and a treasured friend."

"Speaking of married people…"

Trevor raised a brow in her direction.

"Ken and I have an anniversary coming up and we're going to have a little party to celebrate. Can we count you in?"

"What is this, five years?" Trevor asked and as she started to nod he began to rib her. "Isn't that in bad taste? Inviting your ex to celebrate how happy you are without him?"

"Stop. I am not without you, obviously, I can't seem to get rid of you. Here you are," she teased back. "Do I need to plan on a plus one?" she asked glancing up towards the ceiling.

"I'll let you know."

"How's that going?" Sandy moved back into the kitchen and started pulling items from the pantry to prepare for dinner.

"It's going," he shrugged.

Sandy gave him a curious look.

"Slow, I guess. He's a…tough nut to crack but I knew that going in."

"Well, then, if you think he's worth it, you'll just have to be patient."

"I have the patience of Job," Trevor replied with innocent wide eyes placing his hand over his heart.

"Yeah, right. Sure you do," Sandy snorted. "So…do you still go out seeking companionship of the female persuasion or is it just you and him now?"

"Nosy little ex-wife today, aren't we?" Trevor deflected the inquiry.

"I'm just curious and don't think I didn't notice you dodging that question. If you don't want to tell me, just say it's none of my business," Sandy eyed the ingredients on the countertop trying to figure out what she could prepare with them.

"Yes, we do occasionally go out and seek female companionship."

"Together?" Sandy turned to look at him surprised.

"Yes, together," Trevor confirmed looking at her quizzically. "I didn't tell you about how we met?"

"I assumed it was through a case."

"Technically, yes, originally it was through a case but that's not when we started seeing each other socially," Trevor smiled to himself in remembrance.

"Oh-oh. What's that look?"

"What look?" Trevor looked back at her his eyes widening innocently and clamped his lips together. "I don't have a look." Then he laughed and admitted, "Ed turned me down the first time I asked him. After the case."

"No! How dare he? Who on earth would turn you down?" she said laughing.

"I know, right? I'm adorable," Trevor laughed with her, throwing his arms out away from his body and gesturing his palms up. "Seriously though, I was out with another colleague, a female colleague, and she picked him up at the bar for a threesome."

"Oh! So he turned you down but not her and then he took you just because he had to in order to get her, is that it?" she teased.

The light-hearted look on Trevor's face changed in an instant.

"Whoa! Hold on there. I didn't mean anything by that. I was just teasing you," Sandy placated trying to backpedal. "Is that what you're worried about? That Ed is bisexual but that he prefers women and he's just biding his time with you until he's ready to try again?"

Trevor shot her a guilty look.

"That's it, isn't it? That's what you're worried about?" Sandy looked concerned about him again. She threw a look back at the boys playing near the windows behind the couch and backed up into the kitchen drawing Trevor along with her. She opened the last cabinet up against the window and pointed to the top shelf. "I think you need a drink, grab that for me will ya?"

Trevor shot her another look then reached up to the top shelf and pulled down the bottle of Macallan's Ken had stowed up there. Sandy grabbed a tumbler from the lower shelf, took the bottle from him and poured a finger for him. She took a sip for herself then handed it to him. He downed it in one shot and she poured him a little more before capping the bottle and handing it back to him. He placed it back on the top shelf, closed the door and leaned back against the counter, glancing back out into the living space making sure the boys were still preoccupied with their playtime.

"Do you have a preference?" Sandy asked Trevor giving him something else to focus on while he tried to get a handle on his emotions.

"I don't think so. I asked you out because I liked you. I married you because I loved you and thought I would be happy having a family with you, which I am, we just didn't like to do the same things anymore. We outgrew each other and lost that connection somewhere along the way. I like co-parenting with you. I like being able to talk to you like this again, I just…" Trevor tried to explain.

"Don't want to sit on the couch doing watching me quilt then go to sleep on your own side of the bed?" Sandy always got hot at night and could not stand to have another warm body within a foot of her. Trevor liked to sleep cuddled up and never could quite get used to staying on his own side of the bed after making love. It felt foreign to him. "I know, I know, its not that simple but you know what I mean." She gestured her hand about a little then asked, "And Ed?"

"Look it has nothing to do with you being a woman or him being a man. I fall in love with the person…" Trevor tried to explain then stopped at the words.

"Do you?" Sandy pressed after realizing where he stopped in the middle of his sentence. "Do you love Ed?"

"I think so," Trevor said then started to shake his head negatively, "but I can't tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not sure that he's ever going to trust anyone enough to commit again and I think if I tell him that I love him that he'll think I expect something of him," Trevor explained.

"He committed to sharing a home with you," Sandy pointed out.

"That's just real estate. We were practically living in each other's pockets at that point. It just made sense to relocate somewhere together for efficiency's sake."

"At least that's what you told each other, right?" she said.

"Look, I know that Ed cares for me. He's very affectionate with gestures, even thoughtful in his actions, but words. I don't think those are his forte, at least not where personal emotions are involved"

"Ed seems perfectly sociable and easily communicative to me, the few times I've met him," Sandy observed. "Maybe a little awkward, but meeting the ex has to be stressful for anyone and given the history he has with his ex, I can't blame him for that."

"Ed can talk with the best of them, don't get me wrong. Before he was with IAB, he was a hostage negotiator. Those guys are personally picked because they can talk your ear off about anything and everything and they're trained to know exactly which topics to avoid and why," Trevor said pointedly.

"Ah, so he's an expert at avoiding the question."

"Got it in one. If he even suspects that I'm about to bring up an uncomfortable topic, I suddenly find myself misdirected and have no idea how I got there." Trevor shook his head.

"Are you saying that he knows how to push your buttons?" Sandy asked trying to lighten the topic of conversation a bit.

"Quite easily if he wants to dodge the question, and it works most of the time," Trevor admitted.

"Does he see his children at all?" Sandy asked in a concerned voice.

"Cillian, that's the boy, has been covertly visiting the condo at least once a month since last summer. His mother doesn't know. We've also been going to some of his swim meets. Ed's talked to Clodagh, the boy's twin, on his phone while Cillian visited a few times. She's shy and doesn't want their mother to know she's had any contact with him at all. He got to see her in person for a few minutes over the holidays when they were over at his mom's house. I think Caroline has a few more "accidental" run-ins planned for them coming up. Aislin still isn't speaking to him. However, his oldest, Saoirse, turns eighteen this week and we are officially flouting mom's "rules" and taking her out for a birthday dinner on Friday night…and," Trevor paused dramatically, "Ed is taking Saoirse and her best friend, Emma, to Ireland for two weeks during the summer as a graduation present."

"Damn. That's a boat load of kids!"

"You know it, and I think he would do it all over again. Ed comes from a big family and he adores kids. I could see him getting remarried and starting all over again. Maybe that's the problem. I can see it too easily." Trevor sighed to himself and rubbed his hand down his face, pausing at the stubble along his jaw to worry his fingers across it. He looked speculatively at Sandy. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you and Ken want any more rugrats?" Trevor smiled.

"Nope, we're good with these two. What about you? You say you can see Ed with another family. Would you want that with him?"

"Me? Can't you just see me all bloated and pregnant?" Trevor laughed.

"I'm being serious here. There are ways for the two of you to have kids if you want. Hell, if you guys find the right woman, you could have it all."

"What? You mean like a permanent threesome?" Trevor asked incredulously.

"Yeah, why not? It's called a triad by the way. I did some paperwork for one recently. It's all very complicated to work out and not all of it may hold up in court but this couple…"she paused to correct herself, "triad…came in and wanted everything worked out on paper, their bank accounts, their property, their children, custody of their kids, their wills, everything all distributed evenly. They've been together as a threesome for over fifteen years and they have two children. They have no idea which guy is the biological father and they don't want to know, but due to some recent issues with a work-related accident with one of the guys, it came to their attention that if something were to happen to two of them and one of the children was biologically proven not be the remaining parent's, well, let's just say they're afraid that certain family members would not respect their wishes to keep their children both together and with the remaining parent."

"Shit," Trevor said. "Is there a legal marriage in there anywhere?"

"No, and they refuse to get married since only two would be recognized by the state legally. Neither guy wants to be the "primary" and make the other partner feel like they're secondary so they put everything down in writing. Documents signed and witnessed by a judge and two other individuals. Good luck to the person who tries to break my contract. I'll welcome the challenge."

"I'm sure you will," Trevor said proudly. "If Ed and I should be so lucky to find ourselves in that miraculous circumstance, we know exactly who should draw up all the docs."

"Damn straight." Sandy smiled. "Say, how come you never invited me to one of those?"

"One of what?" Trevor asked.

"Threesomes, ménage a trois, throuples, whatever you call it."

"Would you have wanted to?" Trevor asked surprised.

"Uh, no," Sandy said.

"Then why do you ask?"

"Well, I heard a few things about you before you asked me out. I was actually kind of nervous about it, but you never brought it up. I guess at some point I just assumed those were unsubstantiated rumors until you just mentioned that you and Ed participated in threesomes and now I'm assuming they weren't rumors. The things you don't know about your spouse," she laughingly shook her head.

"You knew I was bisexual," Trevor pointed out.

"That's not the same thing," she retorted.

"No, it's not. And to answer your question, number one you were my wife and I didn't want to share you and before that when we were just dating, I didn't think you were the type to want a threesome, and apparently I was right so, neh," he said sticking his tongue out at her, "but once I was single again, I remembered I had enjoyed them in college and thought why not. I didn't think about looking for a more permanent threesome though. That's an interesting idea. I'm not sure how it would work in the long term but it's worth thinking about if Ed and I keep moving forward together and he does still want a family. I wouldn't even know how to look for a woman that would want that. Most of the women we pick up are just looking for a good time for the evening. That's all. Career first and all that."

"Well, in the meantime, patience is a virtue," Sandy reminded him.

"Hmm," Trevor opened Sandy's refrigerator and looked at her produce. He threw a package of mushrooms and spinach on the counter along with avocado, jalapeno and cilantro. "Enjoy your black bean tacos."

"That's the reason I bought those! I knew you were good for something," Sandy laughed.

"Anyways, thank you for your latest referral," Trevor smiled at his ex-wife as he finally reached the purpose of this conversation.

"Well, who else would I refer one of my divorcee's to when they are arrested for murder?" she asks facetiously.

Trevor started to make his way towards the door of the condo. "Oh, by the way, are the children all up to date on their vaccinations?" Trevor said over his shoulder to her a little too nonchalantly.

Sandy gave him a sardonic look and replied "Umm-hmmm."

"Just checking."

"Umm-hmmm."

Trevor laughed a little at himself with his ex-wife then opened the door calling out one last goodbye to the boys and a "love you" as he exited the condo and traveled back up the elevator to his own condo directly five floors above.

AN: I don't know about you but I always love to watch #grantingimmunity after seeing #selfish and reflect on how Olivia changes her opinion on this issue after becoming a parent.

Additional note: I probably won't make a habit of apologizing for taking a long time to update but consider this an apology for this and for the next chapter in advance. I have had this chapter written for quite a while now but just could not bring myself to proof-read it at all in the wake of my favorite musician's death and the cause (eerie, right?). It's not up to my usual editing standards but here it is anyway. I am leaving for a two week twentieth anniversary trip to Paris tomorrow (research for a future chapter :) and will not be thinking about chapter six until after I get back. So be patient for the next update hint: #perverted