A/N: Ermahgerd you guys are too nice! *tears of joy* Such lovely reviews! *melts* Here's the rest. :D I won't lie, I drew out the plot completely on paper first so I wouldn't get carried away and stray from the original idea. You may have noticed it has certain similarities to Truman Capote's In Cold Blood (if you've read it) because I'm reading that now. Great book, I recommend it. :)

I do not own these characters.

A different guard brought a beat-up chair over as the lock clicked open. Heiwajima Shizuo was quietly lying on his back and staring a hole into the ceiling before, but when he saw that he had a visit, he sat up, still not saying a word. Izaya and the chair went in and the lock clicked closed again. "Holler if you need any help" was all the two guards said before returning to their posts. Izaya nodded and sat down on the piece of furniture he got. "Hey." "Hey" the prisoner echoed with a kind undertone. "Sorry I came so late at night," Izaya tried to start the conversation. "It's okay, I didn't have anything planned for now," he raised an eyebrow and curiosity found its way into those dark golden eyes. After a minute, Izaya cut to the chase. "I need to know your side of the story." Shizuo was silent and the lawyer was beginning to fear he would refuse, but he started the story quietly. "Nothing to lose if I tell it again I guess. For me, it was a normal Tuesday morning. I mow the lawn, trim hedges and clip a few trees on Mondays and finish where I left off on Tuesday morning. I had just taken my tools out of the car and was looking to start when I noticed I forgot my hedge trimmers. Mornings are sleepy, all was well, and I just went to the car to get them. Turns out they weren't in the car. It was impossible that I would have left them in Mr. Derron's tool shed; I took them home to clean and sharpen last night. Well, there was no other way, so I got back in the car to go fetch them from my apartment. Left all the other stuff there, it was about 15 minutes there and back." His tone changed from the slightly bored, casual tone to strained and bewildered. "Funny thing was, they weren't at home either. I was starting to think they were stolen or lost forever and it pissed me off. Those trimmers were pretty expensive and great to work with. So I got back with some hope left that they would somehow turn up in the garden or greenhouse, but when I arrived…" He shifted uncomfortably. "Something was off. I went out back, sorta retraced my steps to look for the hedge trimmers, but I noticed the screen door was open. Why would anyone leave it open and let bugs inside? So I went in and there in the kitchen was Mrs. Derron." He covered his face with his hands. "You have no idea. That woman was laying there, lifeless eyes wide open, blood everywhere, I was scared. I tried calling out into the house, but there was an awful silence about the place. I ran right out of there and called 911. Suddenly it was all uniforms, sirens and blinking lights. I can't remember much from then on, I just had to sit down and breathe for a while. It all happened so fast…" Izaya listened closely and studied his posture. 'Is he crying? He can't be.' Shizuo's hands dropped into his lap, his tense, petrified expression now revealed. His eyes were glistening with moisture but he bit it back, no use crying now. 'No wonder nobody believed such a story, there's nothing to back it up, is there?' "How could I just kill those people? How can anyone take someone's life? Nobody believes me, you know. I admit I tend to let my fists do the talking sometimes, but this is t-" Izaya took his hand gently and looked him in the eye. "I believe you." He paused and Shizuo rubbed his face with one hand, not moving the one touching the brunette's. "It is way too convenient from the way I see it." He suddenly wanted to hug that man. His world fell apart not so differently from Izaya's own. But where Izaya was moping around and not sleeping or eating, Shizuo was facing a death sentence. He felt stronger, this was something that could be changed. He could handle another person's problem better than his own (as it often is).

He stayed a bit longer, they talked about the times of each event and those important questions Izaya wanted to know about earlier. That reserved, almost cold attitude with a caring heart behind it was growing on him. He was confident he could help this handsome convict. He still had doubts as to the truthfulness of his story, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. The truth behind this action was simple – he wanted, no, he needed this to be the way things happened. Not even as an attorney anymore, as a man. Izaya was beginning to fall in love. 'That's ridiculous,' he dismissed the sudden want to caress the blonde's cheek and be closer to him. 'Get a hold of yourself, stupid. You can't just fall into the arms of the first good-looking, nice man you find after that asshole left. You can't have stomach butterflies now… ' As he was leaving, Shizuo brought him down to face reality with a tense "Thank you for your time." It was the painful stab of their work-related relationship that called up his hurt expression without warning. He quickly pulled himself together, but Shizuo saw that look in his eyes as he was leaving. 'Is this a face of regret?' It surprised him, his lawyer had nothing to regret, right? He lay down on his back again in silent preparationfor the loneliness of the tedious days without a visit from the pale, tantalizing Orihara Izaya. Why did this man care so much? 'And what on earth was that hurt expression for?' Shizuo realized he didn't know anything about him except his age, occupation and kind, ruby eyes.

A few months' worth of surveying and studying the gardener's route to and from work finally paid off. The lawyer had hunted down a part-timer from a small convenience store in the neighborhood where the deceased family had lived and thus gained a witness. It was not easy since the young woman had only worked there for a month including the day of the murders and had long since moved to a different city. She had, however, been on speaking terms with the defendant because he stopped by for a snack and soda sometimes. She was taking some goods in and he slowed down to bid her a good morning. She saw him return about 10 minutes later. It was really foolish that nobody else had seen it, but that store had a camera at the entrance. There was footage of the car and driver in both directions. Izaya wanted to laugh. They had gotten one last hearing in court and it hadn't been easy. "What more is there to be said? This case is solved and done. Just the sentence left to be carried out." It had been an unnerving job, but his hard work had paid off. Since that Thursday back in February, he had talked to Shizuo twice. Once to confirm the details about his commute, once to tell him the good news about finding evidence to prove his innocence. That time, he had been told that Shizuo had barely been eating before, but that he had gone back to normal recently. This reminded the brunette of his own situation. Since February, he had persuaded himself into eating three meals a day and eventually the regular five. Before long, he began to enjoy cooking again. Izaya was past the point of no return for some time, he was in love. Even so, he was keeping himself in check so that nobody, including the object of his affection, would know. Little did he know that Shizuo, due to a few tell-tale signs and his own liking for the young lawyer, had seen and correctly interpreted his gestures and facial expressions. When he thought Shizuo wasn't looking, the younger man would gaze at him, a small blush dusting his cheeks and his eyelashes fluttering when the blonde turned to face him again. Nevertheless, he didn't let the petite brunette know. He was taking all of this with a pinch of salt. It was already too good to be true that, if all went well, he would live and be free again. After all, you don't value something before you lose it.

Izaya was thinking too much. 'What does Heiwajima Shizuo think of me? Does he treat me so gently to make me work hard on his case? Am I just a hand to hold through the bars? Forget it, Izaya. Today it ends. He'll be free and that's the end of it.' He bit his lip and willed himself to stop tears from forming in his eyes. He was sitting on the steps outside the court house for a breather. There was a short break after the first part for the jury to decide the verdict. Although he was confident about the case, he was distressed about personal matters. 'Just let it go. Big breath! And go,' he directed himself, inhaled and walked inside. This wasn't some petty thievery, fraud or a divorce. An innocent man's life was at stake.

Everything was done and decided before the lawyer organized his thoughts. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and a genuine smile lit up his anxious features. Not because he had won a case, but because he wouldn't be able to face himself if this man were to die. He looked around and saw Shizuo's mother crying with relief. The defendant himself was hugging his brother. He then turned to Izaya and they shook hands, exchanging words of gratitude. When he got out of the building, Izaya had mixed feelings of relief, happiness and melancholy. 'We won, I'm happy,' he convinced himself, but he couldn't shake the gloomy feeling no matter how much he smiled.

The next day, he went to work as usual. Everyone was happy for him and his colleagues were planning a party at the end of the week, but the one concerned was fairly listless. Although he was determined to fight this feeling, he had to admit he would miss seeing Shizuo. He didn't have time to mope around, his schedule for the day was full. He had to attend a conference at a big hotel on the other side of the city, so he didn't have time to go to lunch as he would usually. The presenters were dull and after the talks were over, he didn't especially care for the tables of food or the people who wanted to shake his hand and say "Good job!" He excused himself and went to the restroom to wash his face and check if his suit and tie were still good after all that sitting. He dried his face and looked in the mirror. The reflection that stared back looked like someone who lost a case rather than won it. He slapped his cheeks gently and smiled for practice. He was walking back to the conference room, not really paying attention to his surroundings, when he heard a voice in front of him. "What are such pretty eyes" he knew that voice! "…doing in a place like this?" His wide eyes snapped to the man who had just stopped in front of him. It was no one other than Heiwajima Shizuo. Izaya stared at him, unable to say a word. His resolve to move on, to forget the man in front of him was crumbling down like the walls of Jericho. He was wearing a formal, elegant tuxedo. His hair was messy in a way that made Izaya bite his lip and he was smiling gently and sincerely. He read Izaya's silent question 'What are you doing here?' from his eyes and said: "You left so quickly yesterday, I never really got a chance to thank you. I don't know how to repay you. You actually saved my life." Izaya was still shocked to see the gorgeous blonde, but he found his voice now. "I… have to go," he motioned to the conference hall timidly, not once breaking eye contact. "Then will you at least give me your number?" Izaya stood no chance against Shizuo's pleading gaze. "All right," he said and pulled out his business card. He flipped it around and scrawled a few numbers on the back. He placed the piece of paper in the blonde's hand, explaining: "That's my personal number." He tapped the card lightly. He was beginning to process what just happened and he walked to the conference room door. He opened it and looked back at the former convict, smiling teasingly. "See you around then, Heiwajima Shizuo," he said and closed the door behind himself. Shizuo's heart skipped a beat at that smile and promise and he leaned on the wall behind him. "Not all things have come to an end."

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review! :)

I am very sorry, I know I promised an epilogue, but I'm on hiatus cause of school and I currently have zero time off to write.