Judging Trowa

Quatre had been an attorney for about five years, and had defended and prosecuted some of the most high-profile cases in the country. His quiet demeanor and gentle fortitude did not abandon him in the courtroom, but those things had been accompanied by the love of his job and his determination to make not only his clients happy, but himself as well. While he had been unable to at first, Quatre was now at a point where, if he didn't feel comfortable taking a case, based on evidence that was already on the table, and his uncanny instinct on such things, he didn't take the case. Sometimes, of course, he would lose cases that he believed in because of evidence that had come out in the trial to sway the jury the other way, but when he turned down some cases, he was usually right in his decision.

"This is Winner," he said one day, answering his phone in the usual fashion.

"Yes, Mr. Winner, I'm calling in regard to an advertisement about you being a criminal law attorney," said the voice on the other end of the line. "I'd like to request your services."

'He certainly has good phone manners, I'll give him that much,' Quatre thought before responding. "Alright, I just have a couple of questions for you so I can begin building a case file for you. First of all, what's your name, and are the the defendant or the prosecutor?"

"My name's Trowa Barton, and I'm the defendant," he said.

"What have you been charged with?" Quatre asked.

"2nd degree murder," Trowa said bluntly. "I didn't do it, but these people don't believe me."

"One thing at a time, Mr. Barton," he said. "Where are you calling from?"

"I'm at the police station," Trowa said. "How much do I have to pay to get you to come down here?"

"If I decide to take this case, this will just be part of my initial $1000 retainer fee," Quatre said. "If not, it'll be $35. But once I get a little more information about what's going on from you, and get the police report, I'll be able to determine whether you have any kind of a case. I'll be down in about 45 minutes, but it could take me a little longer to actually be able to get a chance to talk to you face to face."

"Understood," he said. After saying their goodbyes, Quatre thought about who this guy could be, and if he was really a killer like he'd been accused. He'd remembered hearing about the body of a little boy being found near the site of a huge drug bust. Quatre hoped to God that the victim in Trowa's case wasn't the same child, because that would mean that Trowa was probably involved in drug dealing as well, and that would not bode at all well in this case.
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"Hey, Trowa, you got a visitor," called one of the guards, unlocking an outer door.

"Is it my lawyer?" he asked, and the guard shook his head. "Who else would it be?"

"Ya idiot, it's your husband," the guard scoffed with a smirk.

"How did you find out I was here?" Trowa said as another man with a long braid walked into the room.

"One of the neighbors said the cops had been over to the house and there was a big to-do," said the other man, reaching for Trowa's hand through the bars. "What did you do, Lover?"

"I didn't do anything, Duo," he said. "But for some reason, the local cops think I killed the little girl from a few floors up."

"Trina?" Duo asked, and Trowa nodded. Duo's hand dropped to his side in complete shock, leaving Trowa with a feeling of discontent. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't do this, and I'll believe you."

"That's not a problem, Darling," Trowa said with a sad smile. "I can tell you without a shadow of deception, I... DID... NOT... KILL... HER." Duo stared into eyes that were pleading with him to believe him. "Do you believe me, Duo?"

"Yes," he said. He looked at the guard, who nodded in understanding before unlocking the door of Trowa's cell and allowed Duo to walk inside. "I'll call you when I'm ready to go."

"You got it," the guard said. He was about to turn and walk away, but he turned around momentarily. "Good luck, Trowa. I know I'm not supposed to be biased in this place, to be fair, but I'm rooting for you."

"Thanks, Travis," Trowa said. After Travis walked away, Trowa turned to his husband and kissed him, smiling genuinely for the first time since he'd been arrested. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said.

"At least I know if I get convicted, I've got a friend in the system," Trowa said.

"Don't talk like that," Duo pleaded. "You say you didn't do it, and you can't be worried about getting convicted. It'll all work out in the end."

"You saying that you didn't do it and whether you're convicted are two completely different things," said a young blonde entering the area. "But let's see if we can make them one and the same."

"And you can do that how?" Duo said with a questioning look.

"By defending him in court," he said. "Hi, I'm Quatre winner, and Trowa has retained me as his attorney. I'm sorry to barge in like this, but I've got a few other appointments this afternoon and I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Thank you for coming down here so quickly," Trowa said, shaking Quatre's hand. He then placed his hand on Duo's cheek and kissed him briefly. "Wait for me, okay? Travis can come get you when I'm done."

"Laura will be out of school soon," Duo said. "If I have to go before you get back, I'll be back as soon as I can."

"How are we going to explain to her that her Daddy's been arrested for allegedly killing one of her best friends?" Trowa said.

"Oh, God..." he said, his eyes full of anguish over the thought of the look on their daughter's face when she found out.

"This is going to be so hard for her to accept," Trowa said. "I'm worried that she'll hate me."

"It'll be okay," Duo said, hugging him quickly.

"Mr. Barton, I'm sorry, but we need to go," Quatre said.

"Good luck, Darling," Trowa said.

"You too."

END CHAPTER 1