"Don't be a lawyer,
No one you work with looks like Ally McBeal
There are so many other professions,
That don't turn you into Jeff Sessions
Just say no to the lawyer employer"

- Burl Moseley, "Don't Be a Lawyer" from "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend"

Chapter Thirty-Six

I followed the green down to the pamphlets in my hand.

"Reading for the car."

He nodded, gazing around the rest stop. He didn't like being out in the open. Whatever he wanted to say to me, whatever reason he'd stopped walking when he hung up, would be quick.

"Beck's going to call. He's still getting Simon, but gave me a heads up so we could get off the road."

"Oh. Good timing then."

"I know. I just realized it doesn't make sense to sit and wait for the call in the car," he reasoned, still eying our surroundings. The lot remained empty. He was nervous, but with no risks or people around us this was a golden opportunity. "You can go back inside if you want."

Our rest stops were usually fast and hurried, only long enough to temporarily relieve any aches from sitting, before returning to the road. But if we had to wait for a call, we could take advantage of the opportunity to stand and stretch for more than just a few minutes.

"No, I'm fine. I'll walk around some more out here. Get some fresh air or something. Call me over when it's time to go."

Well, I'll lightly limp around some more. I need to keep stretching the injury so it doesn't lock up again.

That had happened once or twice. Reed was adamant and mindful about stopping every few hours, and my seat was as far back as it could go, but there was only so much my muscles could take. I was slowly healing, and needed to avoid hindering my progression, but there weren't a lot of options.

Reed's face changed at my words. It was one thing to be here with him at an empty rest stop, but an entirely different thing to walk away from him.

"I'll go with you," he decided. I shrugged and turned to the long sidewalk that went from one end of the rest stop to the other. He fell in stride with me, significantly altering his steps to be at my pace. It had to be annoying to not walk as fast as he usually would, but he made no indication of such feelings as we walked.

"Hey, Reed?"

He hummed, looking around the lot.

"Remember when you said you didn't want to work for Greystone after college? What did you want to do?"

Amusement settled in his eyes at the question.  "You wouldn't believe me if I said."

"Yes, I would. Why wouldn't I?" I frowned. "What was it?"

He seemed to think about it, stepping forward to kick a rock out my path before turning back.

"A lawyer," he stated. "I wanted to be a lawyer."

He was right. Disbelief trickled onto my face. Reed? A lawyer? But after a moment of reflection I could see it. He was stubborn and unrelenting enough. He was smart enough as well. He'd argued and kept up with me, and I had a feeling he'd have the intimidation factor down when needed in court. He would do very well as a lawyer. It was entirely reasonable, but also humorously coincidental.

"I can see that, actually."

"Yeah?" He shrugged. "Maybe someday."

"I'll have to give you my card. I might know some people."

We shared a thin smile, the best either of us could do. Shoes scraped against concrete as we kept walking, listening to the shuddering trees in the light afternoon wind. We heard the leaves embrace each other, the cars rumble behind the trees, and the rustle of our movements. We eased into comfortable silence, which was a difficult feat in itself. But it was quiet. And it was calm.

When Beck finally called, disrupting the quiet, Reed led us back to the car. We wouldn't be having the conversation where the world could hear us. I settled in the passenger seat, already trying to soothe the frustrated muscles that missed the freedom beyond the car door.

A new face could be seen next to Beck on the screen, a round one with large brown eyes framed by thick black curls. She looked sweet, but a twinkle in her eyes told me she was more like Simon or Kennedy than she was Beck. Still very caring, but an unshakable tendency for mischief and trouble. I was well-trained in reading people. My job demanded I knew who I was dealing with at all times, similar to Reed's job requirements. Because of that, I immediately knew from how she carried herself that this was someone unapologetic, unafraid to speak her mind, and so admirably unlike me.

In fact, I was realizing just how similar Reed and I were, in that we both surrounded ourselves with our opposites. Beck and Simon were remarkably different from each other, but shared a common aspect of being opposite of Reed in some way. I surrounded myself with the same. Kennedy was the sun and I was the moon, but we both had a place in the sky.

"Beck, Gabby," Reed acknowledged.

"Hold on, Simon is coming on now," Beck said.

"Hello?" Simon's face popped up on the screen in a new box, lighting up as he took in each of us.

"Avery, Reed! And Gabby, what are you doing there?" Simon's face got closer to the screen as he squinted. Beck was in his normal place at his desk, and Reed and I were clearly in a car, but Simon's phone was tilted up so as to only show his face. His surroundings couldn't be ascertained from the angle.

"Just bringing Beck some lunch." Gabby lifted a plastic bag of Tupperware. "He forgets lunch when he's working. Especially now that you guys have so much going on."

She turned a stern eye to Beck, who shifted guiltily in his seat with a grateful smile. It was the reprimand of a loved one, chastising their beloved for not taking care of themselves.

"Avery, this is Gabby. My girlfriend," Beck introduced.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Avery."

"Nice to meet you!" She beamed before a new rush of words poured out, authentic and hurried. "And I know you guys have to talk, but I just want to say that I know you're in good hands. I'm not part of Greystone, so I don't fully know your situation, but I do know you'll be okay. These dumbasses can't figure out a washing machine, but they can solve a case," she joked. It was a humorous jab, but an undertone of sincerity shone through. I laughed, sure this was the caretaker of the team. Unofficial, but undisputed.

"One time, Gabby! You helped me one time!" Simon grumbled.

It was clear Gabby had been around for a long time by how unfazed Reed was, and how Simon jested. She had earned both Beck's heart and his team's appreciation.

"Thanks for lunch, babe." Beck leaned up and pecked her on the cheek. Her eyes showed everything there was to tell about their relationship as his lips brushed her skin. In her eyes was a bright flare I recognized from time spent with Kennedy and Oliver.

"Nice seeing you, Gabby." Reed nodded his head at her and earned a smile back. She didn't seem bashful about the chaste kiss, but Beck's ears were tinged pink like he'd forgotten others could see them. She only glowed.

"Nice seeing you, Reed. And Simon, don't worry, next time we'll tackle ironing. You'll figure it out eventually, I believe in you." She winked at me and nodded her goodbye.

When she left, Beck's demeanor changed. He dropped into seriousness, and the reason for the call announced its imminent reveal with the immediate change. It was startling how quickly the three men transformed into brusque business.

"What do you got for me, Beck?" Reed asked.

"It's time to come back." Beck was serious and unblinking as he met Reed's eyes through the screen.

"What happened?"

"You need to get here, as soon as you can," Beck continued.

"I need more than that. You know I can't just come back." Reed's voice was tight, surely remembering the last time he was told to go back to Greystone.

"Yeah, well, now you can," Simon loudly interrupted. "We got him."

"Found him last night and brought him in." Beck was satisfied as he leaned back, building off of Simon's volume.

"He's here, Reed. It's time to get some answers," Simon added. They spoke fast, bouncing quickly back and forth with smooth precision. Reed's eyebrows scrunched.

"He's there? What about Richard?"

"Richard's being closely monitored on his campaign trail, but his asshole little brother is in interrogation three as we speak. Now get your ass here so we can end this." Simon's eyes gleamed with pride, a lion having caught his prey and announcing the victory. Reed paused before answering, his mind swiftly evaluating how to move forward.

"Hold him but no contact yet. Let him sweat," Reed ordered. "We're on our way. Where's Romano?"

"At a meeting about the Brokem case. He's been briefed but couldn't make the call himself."

Or he didn't want to face Reed again.

"Don't leave that building, Simon."

"He's not going anywhere. See you when you get here," Simon assured Reed swiftly. He turned to me, unsure as he seemed to search for the right words. Beck beat him to it.

"You can breathe now, Avery. We got him. Warren will get what he deserves, and you'll get your answers."

I hadn't absorbed any of what was said just yet. The three of them shot back and forth so fast, so in-sync, that my brain was whiplashed trying to keep up. So, I nodded, trying to process as the men ended the call. But as soon as the call was over, Reed's hand flew to the clutch. Our tires squealed as he tore the car away from the parking spot and sped onto the highway.

Except now we were going in the opposite direction.

I stared out the window at the rich green tones flashing by, the reflective green of the highway signs, and the occasional flash of white that confirmed Reed was not going the speed limit. My leg was starting to bounce as the information trickled in, weaseling its way into my awareness. Slowly, my mind wrapped around what'd just happened, slowed down by exhaustion and overwhelmed neural pathways.

They found Warren? They're going to find out if he's the shooter. They're going to get answers. We're going back. We're going back to where he is.

I was going to the same building where the suspected almost-murderer was. I was going to share the same coordinates with the man who almost ripped the breath from my lungs, the future from my grasp, and the life from my body. I was thrilled he was caught, and I hoped he was the right person. I hoped this was over. I hoped he was the culprit, and the threat was over. I hoped I would get all the answers I needed.

But I wanted him to be a million miles away.

I knew there was no danger. He was in a heavily fortified building surrounded by trained men who would protect me. I knew without a doubt Reed wouldn't let anything happen to me. The Greystone building was extremely safe even as it housed the suspect, but I didn't want to go anywhere near Warren Cawton or his brother.

My leg jostled and trembled as it went up and down. My body shook more and more with every mile closer to facing him. I wanted to run again. I wanted to turn around and take flight far away from my issues.

But Reed's hand settled just above my knee, his palm heavy as it pushed my leg down. His fingers were firm as they kept me still. He forced me to settle, to breathe, to calm my aching limbs. He glanced at me, not saying anything. He didn't need to. He understood.

Even as he looked back at the road, and my body slowly stopped shaking, he didn't remove his hand. It laid heavy and strong, willing me to take what I needed. Offering me what strength I could sap from him. He kept his touch on my skin, keeping me steady and grounded when I felt like shaking apart. He reminded me he was there. He reminded me I was safe.

He reminded me he cared.

Warren Cawton has been found! Is he really the shooter? What will happen when Reed and Avery arrive at Greystone?

Also, if you are in the legal field or just want a laugh, check out the music video attached to the chapter. It's from the show "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend" (a satirical dramedy that bursts into songs a la Glee) and is a song called "Don't Be a Lawyer". As you can guess, it's a song rooted in satire that rips into the profession of law (complete with 80's beats and flashy outfits). As a warning, there's mild language and someone jumping out of a window.

- H