Post by Griff on May 26, 2013 8:10:47 GMT 10
Title: Fish Tank Legal Team
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 568
Pairing: George/Roger
Round/Fight: 2B
Summary: (Modern AU, Country Boy!Cooper Pt9) George is injured at work.
-
“Explain to me,” Roger said slowly. “Where ‘intercepting assaults with a deadly weapon’ is written in your work contract.”
“I don’t have a,” George pointed out, blinking long and blearily. “... thing. I bar.”
“Bar tend.” Roger corrected ruthlessly, stiffly pulling the the wrinkles out of the thin hospital blankets tucked tight around George’s legs. “And that only proves my point. This is not your job. If you’d like to throw yourself in front of bullets, I insist you find a job that pays you for it.”
“I dun..” He shrugged. “Mm.”
“You are not helping this conversation.”
George started blowing raspberries and Roger decided it was time to leave.
It might be said that Roger did not handle emotional situations well, particularly when the emotions were his and the situation couldn’t be handled in the courtroom. Not that the drunken inbred hick who decided to hunt his ex-wife down in her favorite bar wouldn’t be facing the legal system, but apparently, he wasn’t allowed to be on the crucifixion team. Prosecution. Whatever.
However, what he could do was use his wide network of contacts to thoroughly harass every man, woman, and intern on the legal team to do his bidding upon fear of social destruction. Well, it wasn’t precisely his network, but in the scheme of things, Alex’s rolodex existed in Roger’s office and recieve his pay from Roger’s pocketbook (or Conte and Son’s, but this wasn’t the time for technicalities), making possession 9/10th of the law.
However, he didn’t exactly understand how it worked, which was why Roger - who thought about these sorts of things, thank you - had absolutely stipulated in the contract he outlined for Alex’s position that he was able to summon his minion to work at any moment and the only appropriate reply would be a flattering sort of grovelling for not anticipating his needs already.
“Yes, sir?” Alex answer in professional clipped tone, edge in apathy and fluffed with an extra note of ‘you pay me, I’ll pretend I care’. All the many reasons Roger appreciated him far more than his secretaries.
“I have a file I need you to create...” And Roger began, grilling into his PA the priority importance of stalking everyone involved with his boyfriend’s case. His phone buzzed all through the conversation and when he was done, his phone was filled with saccharine sweet condolences from both Josiane and Delia, though the latter tended to be less concerned with George’s well being and more focused on the gleeful possibility that he was horribly disfigured and no longer appealing to Roger. Delia had always had her eyes on his ring finger and bank account and those were the traits he always appreciated in her. His phone buzzed one last time with a new text from Josiane. It seemed, in the chaos of gunfire at George’s work, the custom Marc Jacob tee Roger had order George for Christmas had been murdered viciously by both gunfire and EMTs. Her fashion sense frothing, Josiane declared she would not rest until his clothing was avenged and the offenders wasting away in a hell beyond imagining. And that’s why he kept her around.
His legal team was a vicious little fishtank of morally vacant narcissist and, frankly, he couldn’t imagine it better any other way. Roger didn’t take kindly to his things being broken and they would ensure the world would pay.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 568
Pairing: George/Roger
Round/Fight: 2B
Summary: (Modern AU, Country Boy!Cooper Pt9) George is injured at work.
-
“Explain to me,” Roger said slowly. “Where ‘intercepting assaults with a deadly weapon’ is written in your work contract.”
“I don’t have a,” George pointed out, blinking long and blearily. “... thing. I bar.”
“Bar tend.” Roger corrected ruthlessly, stiffly pulling the the wrinkles out of the thin hospital blankets tucked tight around George’s legs. “And that only proves my point. This is not your job. If you’d like to throw yourself in front of bullets, I insist you find a job that pays you for it.”
“I dun..” He shrugged. “Mm.”
“You are not helping this conversation.”
George started blowing raspberries and Roger decided it was time to leave.
It might be said that Roger did not handle emotional situations well, particularly when the emotions were his and the situation couldn’t be handled in the courtroom. Not that the drunken inbred hick who decided to hunt his ex-wife down in her favorite bar wouldn’t be facing the legal system, but apparently, he wasn’t allowed to be on the crucifixion team. Prosecution. Whatever.
However, what he could do was use his wide network of contacts to thoroughly harass every man, woman, and intern on the legal team to do his bidding upon fear of social destruction. Well, it wasn’t precisely his network, but in the scheme of things, Alex’s rolodex existed in Roger’s office and recieve his pay from Roger’s pocketbook (or Conte and Son’s, but this wasn’t the time for technicalities), making possession 9/10th of the law.
However, he didn’t exactly understand how it worked, which was why Roger - who thought about these sorts of things, thank you - had absolutely stipulated in the contract he outlined for Alex’s position that he was able to summon his minion to work at any moment and the only appropriate reply would be a flattering sort of grovelling for not anticipating his needs already.
“Yes, sir?” Alex answer in professional clipped tone, edge in apathy and fluffed with an extra note of ‘you pay me, I’ll pretend I care’. All the many reasons Roger appreciated him far more than his secretaries.
“I have a file I need you to create...” And Roger began, grilling into his PA the priority importance of stalking everyone involved with his boyfriend’s case. His phone buzzed all through the conversation and when he was done, his phone was filled with saccharine sweet condolences from both Josiane and Delia, though the latter tended to be less concerned with George’s well being and more focused on the gleeful possibility that he was horribly disfigured and no longer appealing to Roger. Delia had always had her eyes on his ring finger and bank account and those were the traits he always appreciated in her. His phone buzzed one last time with a new text from Josiane. It seemed, in the chaos of gunfire at George’s work, the custom Marc Jacob tee Roger had order George for Christmas had been murdered viciously by both gunfire and EMTs. Her fashion sense frothing, Josiane declared she would not rest until his clothing was avenged and the offenders wasting away in a hell beyond imagining. And that’s why he kept her around.
His legal team was a vicious little fishtank of morally vacant narcissist and, frankly, he couldn’t imagine it better any other way. Roger didn’t take kindly to his things being broken and they would ensure the world would pay.