It took me all of four hours to write this. Four hours. That's disgusting.

Toxic

Mia had never much cared for the law stacks in the courthouse library: dark, gloomy, and generally uninhabited by anyone but students (most real lawyers in the district had their own extensive libraries), it had far too few lights, strung here and there like a carnival. It always gave her the willies: it was no better today. In fact, it was much worse. Even in the bright, fluorescent stairwell, she felt a shudder of anticipation at entering those truncated aisles, with dark spots perfect for hiding…

Part of it, of course, was at the thought of having to meet that girl again, that conniving, evil… Mia's stomach tightened at the memories. She straightened; "Keep it together, Fey," she muttered, and banged her fist on the handrail, pausing for a moment in her descent. After all, it wasn't like she'd be alone with Dahlia.

Now it was her throat that tightened, and for a completely different reason. A very undignified urge to giggle struck her, and she felt herself blushing furiously. Ye gods, look at me! she thought, more in amusement than anything else. You would think I've never slept with anyone before!

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

She had slept with someone before, of course. But it had been a long time. She'd woken to the alarm blaring, completely befuddled, shooting straight upright to determine why the thread count of her sheets had changed, the window was on the other side of the bedroom, and the smell of cologne… oh. She laid back down slowly, almost afraid to look beside her, for fear that it would all disappear.

But he was there, hair tousled as ever (though from sleep now), a dreamy smile softening his features. Suddenly she realized that the smile was widening, and she sighed.

Eyes still closed, he said, "A little disoriented, kitten?"

"Oh, be quiet," she answered, laughing. "You would be too, if you'd lived in Kurain Village until a few years ago. It's still habit to panic when I wake up with someone else in the bed."

She was answered by a brief chuckle. Finally he sat up, sighing and scrubbing his face with his hands. Fixing her with a baleful glare, he said, "Well, now that I'm awake…"

Momentarily feeling a burst of guilt for having awakened him, Mia suddenly recalled that he'd planned to get up as the same time as her, and answered coolly, "I suppose I should do penance by making breakfast?"

Diego finally laughed aloud, and gathered her in for a kiss. "No… no time for that today, kitten. That alarm was set for the two of us, after all. I've got an interview, and you've got work. Besides, only children and savages eat breakfast."

Mia shuddered, remembering the interview he had mentioned so lightly. She was assisting their boss with a new case, but Diego was going to… to… "Why?" she demanded, and he stopped, halfway to a hairbrush at the bedside. "Can I ask why you're insisting upon doing this? It's been four months since the trial—she's going to get away with it no matter what we do." A surge of hatred washed through Mia, and suddenly she put a hand on his bare shoulder, gripping fiercely. "I don't want her to get away with murder any more than you do, but…"

Her voice failed her, and he cocked an eyebrow, eyes suddenly hard and sarcastic. "But what? Kitten, if she gets away with killing F… your client—" Mia noticed that he couldn't bring himself to say Fawles's name "—she'll get away with killing her sister, too, and anyone else she's ever killed before, which for all we know may be her whole family." While his voice hadn't risen, she could tell by his posture how much it was taking him to control his anger. "Do you want that?"

"Of course not!" she cried, suddenly angry herself. "I've already got a suicide on my conscience, why would I want any other deaths?"

Tears pricked, and she turned away. After a moment his hands came around her, apologetic, and he set his chin on her shoulder. "I didn't mean it that way, Mia."

"I know," she said, feeling a little sick as she sniffed back the tears and sighed. "I know. I just… and I know you… you have to…" She paused again, and leaned against him, wishing more than anything else that they could just go back to bed. "Just be careful. That girl is poison."

There was a click from the next room, followed by a horrendous grinding noise as his beloved automatic coffee machine started. "I know," he said quietly, his voice almost the least flippant she'd ever heard.

Then he raised his head and inhaled, and she laughed as his expression turned blissful. "No time for breakfast. Always time for coffee."

"It's your special blend, isn't it," she said, recognizing the familiar, darkly earthy, almost primeval scent. "What's its name?"

"Doesn't have one," he answered, pulling her close. "But I only drink it on really good days."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"Mia! Do wait up, my dear." Mia looked up from her reverie to see her boss Mr. Grossberg puffing his way down the stairs after her.

She waved a hand, and waited. "Thank you, young lady." He stopped to adjust his tie, and they began descending together. "I… I decided to come along after all, you see." He hesitated, and she let the moment pass as he gathered himself for small talk.

Mia knew exactly why he'd come along, after all: in a supervisory capacity. She knew perfectly well that she and Diego were far too caught up in this affair, both intellectually, as lawyers, and emotionally: she had the feeling Grossberg didn't want any more drama occurring in his law firm, after the Terry Fawles disaster.

She smiled and nodded as he blathered on about the delightful weather they were having, about his sudden bout of ill health. Thank the Lord she had other things to distract her from his damnably public problems, none of which she considered acceptable for conversation.

They paused together at the bottom of the stairs, before the double wooden doors that led into the law stacks. Gazing through the frosted glass, Mia could see the rows of books going on and on, the backlight of the bulbs finally fading into darkness. It was a moment before she realized Grossberg was looking at her strangely.

As she put on a smile, he seemed to relax a bit (he always looked nervous, so it was hard to tell), and opened one of the doors. "After you, my dear."

Mia stepped into the law stacks with that same vague feeling of apprehension she always had; Diego had said he'd arranged the meeting with Dahlia one of the group reading rooms. The only problem was, the reading rooms were spread out around the outside of the library on each floor; they would simply have to skirt the entire floor and look in the window of each room's door to see which space the two had chosen.

She stepped off at a brisk pace, wanting more than anything just to lay eyes on Diego again, to reassure herself by seeing his cool, collected face… before finally facing Dahlia again. Simultaneously, an icy chill slid down her backbone and a fierce warmth spread through her chest. She won't get away this time, Mia thought determinedly.

The library really wasn't that big, after all (Mia decided perhaps her intimidated imagination had made it bigger), and it didn't take them long to discover that Diego and Dahlia were clearly not in any of the reading rooms.

"Well, that's quite odd," said Grossberg, clearly unnerved. "Where on earth could they be?"

Mia shrugged, feeling a cold stab in her heart. She pushed it aside, reaching for her phone. "I'll call D… Mr. Armando, and see where they went." She wasn't sure if Grossberg knew about her relationship with his other employee yet—while undeniably brilliant, the man was sometimes totally obtuse about things outside the courtroom—and she'd rather know how Diego felt about it before telling their boss.

The phone rang once, twice, before Diego picked up. "Hey there, Ms. Fey," said his smooth voice, unfazed, with just the hint of tease on her name to let her know he was somewhere formal… but that he was glad to hear from her. Mia felt the knot in her stomach dissolve, and was tempted to sob into the phone, astonished at how relieved she felt. "How can I help you?"

"Hi. Mr. Grossberg and I got finished with the case files more quickly than we though and, well… we thought we'd come join you in the interview. Maybe help. We're near the reading rooms, where did you two go?" She wanted to scream, Please, please let it be somewhere public!

"Ms. Hawthorne thought the cafeteria might be a little more convenient," he said casually, and Mia inhaled, thanking God, Mystic Ami, her mother, and any other protective figures she could briefly think of. "She's in between classes at Ivy University and wanted to pick up some lunch… isn't that right, Ms. Hawthorne?" Mia couldn't hear any answer from her end of the line, but she could well imagine the look of fury on Dahlia's thin face. It was long past lunchtime.

"Ah, the cafeteria. Mind if we come join you?" Mia hoped her voice didn't sound too strained; Grossberg had made a rather pleased noise at the word 'cafeteria', and she was struggling between snorting with laughter and crowing in triumph.

"Of course. You don't mind if Ms. Fey and Mr. Grossberg join us, do you, Ms. Hawthorne?" There was a pause, filled only by background noise from the cafeteria, and then a low chuckle. "Sure. Come on up, kitten." And he hung up.

Mia took a deep breath, and looked at her boss with a smile. "They're in the cafeteria: Mr. Armando says it would be fine if we went up to join them."

"Excellent!" said Grossberg heartily. "Ahh, the scent of fresh lemon, like the days of my youth…" Mia felt herself torn between groaning and laughing: she'd become fond of that ridiculous expression.

As they strode towards the library's exit, she happened to glance down one of the aisles. A student with crazily spiky black hair was standing there, frowning and muttering to himself rather abstractedly, comparing book numbers on the shelves to a note card in one hand. As she and Grossberg made their way to the door, she saw the young man, arms laden with books, stagger into one of the reading rooms. A surge of nostalgia washed over her as she thought back to her own days in law school. Enjoy it while it lasts, young fellow, she thought cynically but amusedly.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Lunchtime having passed at least two hours before—Mia had eaten, pen in hand, at her desk next door at Grossberg Law Offices—the cafeteria wasn't as crowded as usual. Still, there was the usual line at the salad bar, and many of the tables were still full with the university students who occasionally came to make use of the law library.

She looked about for a moment, fruitlessly; Diego had been sporting his usual bright-red shirt that day, and she felt as if both it as well as Dahlia's obnoxiously omnipresent pink outfit would have clashed brightly with the surroundings. But they weren't visible.

Apparently Grossberg wasn't having much luck, either. "Oh, dear, I can't spot them," he said, mustache twitching in nervousness. They paced back and forth near the entrance; one of the till minders eyed them suspiciously, wondering if they were about to try and eat for free.

"Here, I'll just call him again," Mia said impatiently, and pulled out her phone. Where could they be?

She had just finished dialing, why a cry caught her attention, and her head snapped up. "Oh, my God! Is he… is he dead?" A student was standing near one corner of the cafeteria, pointing to a table half-hidden behind a pillar.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Mia found herself racing across the cafeteria, the unheeded cries of the till-minder pounding upon her ears. She finally saw his blood-red shirt and felt like screaming. To a casual observer glancing past, it might have seemed that he was asleep, head pillowed on his hands like any law student after a long night of studying; but his deathly-white complexion and the spilled cup of coffee, still steaming on the table, told a much different story to her. His phone sat on the table, irritated buzz contrasting with the slow jazz theme emanating from its speaker. She closed her phone and the music ended: missed call, it would say.

Mia was vaguely aware of the fact that before she even touched him, she was shrieking his name, the law students pressed around her, staring with white faces. Someone was shouting that they would call nine-one-one, and she tried to take his pulse, to see if he was breathing. Nothing. The smell of his special blend of coffee overwhelmed her senses, cutting through the fog, and only one idea took hold in her brain.

She turned to the students, incoherent at first; finally she managed to scream, through her tears, "Did any of you see her? The girl who was at this table! That little pink… horrible…" Her tears momentarily blinded her vision, and when she blinked them away she saw Grossberg puffing towards her, a policeman behind him.

The students were shaking their heads; "No," one was saying numbly, clinging to a boyfriend, "no, we didn't see anyone…" She turned away, burying herself in Diego's unmoving shoulder, willing him to breathe, to live.

It was a moment later that Grossberg gently pried her away, speaking to her in a high-pitched, terrified voice; the policeman was speaking into a walkie-talkie. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Mia simply couldn't look anymore; she buried her face in Grossberg's cushy shoulder and wept, unable to believe it. Dahlia had taken her revenge… and made her escape. "My God," her boss was saying, voice shaking, "what happened?"

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The next day, she took a train back to Kurain Village. Grossberg himself had suggested it, stammering something about her needing a little break before her next trial, before returning to defend anyone else. The other attorneys in the firm, young and old alike, were all a little wiser than their boss, and had given her formal condolences on the loss of her mentor: all of them looking at her with pitying eyes that said a lot more.

Mia herself felt nothing but numbness. It was true she'd lost more than just Diego, either as a lover, co-worker, or mentor: the two of them had lost their entire case against Dahlia Hawthorne. It was all over: and yet somehow she couldn't cry.

Stepping off the train, she breathed deep the pine-scented air of her childhood, and felt something inside her give. She would be able to cry soon: probably after seeing Maya, Aunt Morgan, and little Pearly, after returning to her old room, donning a spirit channeler's robe, perhaps lighting some incense. Right now, though, she was simply filled with a numbness… underlaid by a burning, all-consuming hatred. Mia had never felt so angry in her life, and it made her sick with fear.

"Miiiiiaaaaaaa!!" Her name, shrieked at the top of a pair of young lungs, made Mia look up, and she couldn't help but burst into a smile as Maya came racing down the platform, robes flapping, eyes huge, almost knocking over two old people.

"Maya!" she cried out, and felt something inside her burst, dropping her suitcase. No! No! Too soon! she thought in distress, but it was too late. The sight of Maya, the other person she loved most in the world, was too much, and before her sister had even wrapped herself around her, Mia found herself sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm so happy to see you, Sis! I didn't know you were coming until ten minutes ago, Aunt Morgan was so surprised! Pearly's waiting to see you, she's making paper cranes for your return! Why…" Maya's words spilled out for a moment, unhindered; then she tapered off, apparently noticing Mia's distress. "Geez, Sis! I mean, I missed you a ton, too, but… what's the matter?"

She unselfishly hugged Mia closer, and Mia found herself clinging to her sister like a lifeline, unsuccessfully trying to get ahold of herself. "Sorry… Maya…" she managed, feeling like a stupid child. "Really… really bad week, that's all. I missed you so much, I…" She straightened, and with one arm still around her sister, she tried to wipe away some of the tears. "I just had to come. I'm sorry."

"That's okay!" said Maya brightly, eyes worried but face radiant. "We'll make you feel happier in no time! What, um, what happened?"

Mia was about to protest telling, to say that Maya didn't need to know, but as she picked up her suitcase again, it dawned on her that Maya, of all people, should understand. "Someone… one of my very good friends at the office was killed."

"Oh, no!" breathed Maya, genuinely horrified. "I'm so sorry, Sis—here, let me carry that!" And despite Mia's weak protests, her younger sister firmly grabbed the case and started lugging it, thin arms straining. "Geez, what's in here, bricks?" she teased, but refused to relinquish it.

Mia laughed, a kind of sobbing noise, and slid an arm around Maya's shoulders. "No. I might stay for awhile."

"Good!" Maya said in satisfaction. She adapted a more solemn face and added, "I am really sorry, Mia. Was it… was it the man you talked about on the phone, the one who helped you in your first case?"

"Yes," Mia answered, barely hearing her own voice, and pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment. The sound of a voice calling her 'kitten' was ringing in her ears strongly; but controlling the tears threatening to spill again, she cleared her throat and said, more audibly. "Yes, it was. The circumstances were complicated, and the firm is a mess. I missed you so much that it only made sense to come here."

A surge of guilt struck her, and she wondered if Maya would understand. Surely her sister must know that she wasn't visiting because she'd missed Kurain Village. Most of the time Mia avoided the place like the plague, wanting to keep out of her aunt's domain. She was only there because… it was a safe haven.

Maya looked at her sideways for a moment, then said simply, with a tiny smile, "Well, I'm glad you get a chance to escape."

The surge of gratefulness that overwhelmed Mia was so strong that she was tempted to burst into tears again; but she merely pulled her sister close, kissing the top of her head. "Me, too. I missed you." More than you could know. "Thanks for coming to meet me."

"No problem," answered her sister cheerfully, blithely.

Mia lifted her eyes to the snow-tipped mountains surmounting Kurain Village's thatched roofs, and felt a tiny bit of peace penetrate the turmoil, anger, and grief struggling for positions in her heart. If there was healing to be found, she might be able to find it here. With a brief, half-hopeful prayer that Diego was at peace as well, wherever he was, she followed Maya's bobbing topknot towards Kurain.

Fin

A/N: (I usually put these at the beginning of the story.) I can't find anywhere whether or not Mia was aware that Diego didn't really die: my feeling was that she did not. After all, in Turnabout Memories she said that Dahlia was considered a "suspect in the murder of Diego Armando" some eight months before. Stupid inaccurate court system... she could've revived him with coffee long since. Anyway…