Caffeine and Magix

caffeinewitchcraft:

I am weak for werewolf ladies who are lawyers in high heels and power suits

Jameson is a little shit. Fiera hasn’t had the dubious pleasure of meeting the man face to face, but she’s read her firm’s dossier on him. He’s mean in court and intimidating. He’s got more settlements than trials to his name and there are a fair few lawyers who won’t be on the same team as him, much less opposing counsel.

It’s not hard to draw a link between the cases he does take and the cases he doesn’t. It’s even less difficult to track his postponed court dates with the cycle of the moon.

Fiera is a good lawyer because she does her homework. Jameson is a good lawyer because he’s meaner than the other guy.

That’s why she’s going to win.

She walks into court with her client dogging her heels. It’s a tiny case, really, pro bono for the reputation. The issue is that it’s a disputed will and her client is 60 years old with early onset Alzheimer’s and his client is a 30 something with a wife and two kids. Jameson just has to bat his lashes right and Judge Heinrich is going to throw the win into his lap.

Or he will if she can’t get the updated will—signed out of state in the last months of life when sanity was coming and going—submitted.

She clicks through the courthouse, not stopping to take anything off for the metal detector. She hears her client fussing with his belt and swearing as she strides out of sight. That’s fine. She doesn’t want such a nice old man see her meet Jameson for the first time.

She stalks to the meeting room, shoulders tensing as she gets closer. She can smell another wolf in the air and it makes her bare her teeth. He’s gotten their early to claim the room as his.

Yeah right.

She stops outside the door, Head cocking as she hears Jameson’s voice for the first time. Low, rumbling, and confident.

“—won’t get it into evidence,” Jameson is saying. He’s heard about the will then, maybe from her client himself. “You nearly had the power of attorney paperwork trough when she passed. It will be a—“

She bursts through the wooden doors without knocking. The judge isn’t present yet, just Jameson and the slimy little boy trying to steal his father’s livelihood.

“—shoe in,” Jameson finishes, staring at her. He stands, striding around the table with his hand out held. “You must be Ms. Role—“

He stops, nostrils flaring. His eyes flash and he makes the mistake of curling his lip. A low rumble escapes his chest.

She flashes her eyes right back, taking a step forward and letting her aura wash around him.

“Please,” she says pleasantly, taking another step forward. “Sit.”

Jameson’s knees go out from under him between one second and the next until he’s on his ass in the middle of chambers.

Her grin widens. This will be easier than she thought.

“We are not going to settle,” she tells Jameson and his wide-eyed client. She shows him every one of her teeth. “You are.”

Jameson swallows hard and doesn’t protest.