Flashpoints

#21 – head

She often complains about him being a whole head taller than her, but whenever she stands up in court and slams her fists down, her eyes blazing, he looks at her fondly and thinks, she doesn't know just how tall she looks to everyone else in the room.

#9 – drink

Diego wanders off into the kitchen, and calls out over his shoulder asking what she'd like to drink—when she replies that plain water will be fine, thanks, he reappears with such an uncomprehending blank look on his face that she has to bite her lip in case she laughs.

#42 – strange

Mia's not sure what she thinks about his rhyming "Kitten" with "smitten", but that doesn't keep her from carrying the little piece of paper around in her pocket for the rest of the day with an odd grin on her face.

#15 – flexible

"I never allow a woman to pay, Kitten. That's one of my ru—" he starts to say, but the glare she interrupts him with is so intense that he actually finds himself blurting out, "—er, but rules were made to be broken, so you go ahead and get the bill this time."

#14 – fire

When Mia asks if he believes lawyers go to hell, he just smirks and says that if they do, then he's bringing coffee beans with him when he goes because they'll probably roast even better down there.

#18 – foot

She apologizes over and over again, but at the same time admonishes him, saying how he really shouldn't sneak up and grab her from behind like that—and he's just massaging his stomach and wincing because he didn't know she could kick that hard.

#38 – snow

"That flimsy yellow scarf of yours can't possibly be enough to keep you warm," he points out, frowning, but she just presses closer to him and mumbles, embarrassed, "I never said it was the scarf that was keeping me warm."

#47 – water

Diego dreams it's raining, and when he wakes up, her forehead is still pressed against his, so close that the tears she cried in her sleep are on his cheeks.

#37 – snakes

The first time she sees him lying there, the mass of tubes snaking from his face and arms down the bed and into the machines, his lips pale and his breathing barely tangible, she feels like she's closer to death than he is.

#46 – war

Grossberg privately thinks that watching the two of them argue makes for good entertainment—there is much objecting, banging of fists, and presenting of evidence, as they are, after all, both lawyers.

#10 – duty

It's kind of creepy, but ever since he told her she isn't allowed to cry until it's all over, she's discovered that when she watches a movie, she's somehow trained herself to start tearing up only during the end credits.

#11 – earth

He's never really believed in souls or the afterlife or anything, but now he hopes for her sake that there is something beyond this cold, unyielding patch of soil and the funeral he didn't get to attend.

#3 – beginning

After court is adjourned, they sit on the couch in the defendant lobby; and while she bandages his bleeding hand, he looks over at her, and the thought vaguely flits through his head that she's kind of cute when her face is scrunched up in concentration like that.

#33 – rain

She mentions casually at work one day that in some cultures, people who share an umbrella are said to be meant to be together—the next day, he conveniently forgets his at home.

#17 – food

He always knows when a case really grabs hold of her heart, because she stops eating and just sits there, staring at the salt shaker with this pool of emotions glistening in her eyes.

#20 – green

She tugs at his sleeve and points up to where the mistletoe is hanging just above the door, and he silently thanks God that Grossberg chose to decorate the office this year.

#7 – despair

One thing he can't get out of his mind is how ironic the whole thing is, like some Shakespearean love story—just as one wakes up, the other one falls asleep forever.

#8 – doors

She's often tried to describe the feeling she gets, but the best thing she's managed to come up with so far is—every time he looks at her, it's like a hundred different universes are opening up before her hands.

#41 – stable

"Are you sure this bed's sturdy enough to hold two people?" she asks skeptically as she climbs in beside him, and he answers of course so confidently that she can't help wondering exactly how he knows that.

#36 – secret

He announces out of the blue one day that he's going to teach her how to speak Spanish, and when she asks why, he suddenly clams up because his original answer was, so someday we'll be able to talk without the kids understanding us.

#6 – dark

She's flipping through the photo album, and after all these years, her favorite is still the one that someone took at that New Year's party—the one where you can't see anything other than two silhouettes, but even so you can tell by the way they're holding each other that they were both smiling.

#24 – hope

"Hey, Maya?" he says hesitantly, catching the young spirit medium by the shoulder, "...can I ask you a big favor?"

#16 – flying

She gasps when Diego suddenly picks her up in his arms and whirls her around on the dance floor—but then she starts to feel more safe than she's ever felt, because not once does he show signs of wanting to let go.

#2 – apples

"To another year," Mia says, lifting her glass of cider, and Diego clinks his mug to it and adds with a grin, "To another year together."

#25 – light

The blurry photograph is still trapped under the glass top of his desk—he can't remember exactly when it was taken, most likely some New Year's party—but what he does remember is thinking, in the dark, she's the only light I'll ever need.

#44 – taboo

"Kitten, not that I dislike the fact that you wear a skirt every day, but how come I've never seen you in pants?" Diego asks, but Mia looks so horrified when he says the word "pants" that he decides not to pursue the topic.

#39 – solid

She is standing there, and he stretches out his hand, knowing it's a dream and that he'll wake up before he can touch her, but trying anyway—just in case.

#49 – winter

Almost as if he is sleepwalking, he picks up the shovel and begins to scrape away the snow, and as he covers up the blood on the ground he thinks, oh, Kitten, what have I become.

#32 – pretty

"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful in your life, Diego?" she murmurs contentedly as they watch the sun rise—he replies, "Yes, and I'm looking at it right now," and she blushes until she turns and realizes he is gazing lovingly at his steaming coffee mug.

#35 – roses

At first, Godot wonders why there's a bunch of headless stems and twigs propped up against the white headstone—then he realizes with a jolt that it means someone has laid flowers on her grave.

#5 – coffee

Mia's never told him this, but the reason why she doesn't like it is because the bitter aftertaste is so strong in her mouth, it makes her forget how sweet it really tasted.

#34 – regret

He is going through the pile at the bottom of his cabinet when he finds it—a slightly dented white box—and when he opens it, a stab shoots through his heart and his hands begin to tremble, and he slowly takes out the new scarf he was going to give her for Christmas.

#27 – metal

We put a lot of men behind bars together, he thinks as he steps in slowly and the gate clangs shut in finality behind him, so I bet you never thought I'd join them for you.

#30 – peace

Sometimes, she tries to trick herself into thinking he's only sleeping—that any second now, he'll open his eyes, reach out to ruffle her hair gently and murmur, "Rise and shine, Kitten, we've got a long day ahead."

#23 – honor

She wonders aloud why she doesn't have a nickname for him—he grins and tells her to go ahead and think of one, and then all of a sudden everyone at work is calling him Speedy Gonzales and he feels like any respect he's earned in the past few years has gone out the window.

#31 – poison

"That stuff's going to kill you someday, Diego," she comments dryly as she watches him take a swig from his fifth cup—chuckling, he sets the mug down and answers, "I highly doubt that, Kitten. A little coffee never hurt anybody."

#1 – air

When he first regained consciousness, he savored every gasp of air he took—but now he almost hates breathing, because it reminds him that she'll never take his breath away again.

#26 – lost

Grossberg comes in to find Diego running around like a madman, yanking open drawers, tearing at his hair and cursing under his breath; he looks questioningly at Mia, who merely winks at him and mouths, "I hid his mug."

#28 – new

There are so many things she's going to have to get used to now—the empty desk by the window, the absence of the scent of coffee in the apartment; but it's walking into the courtroom alone that's hardest of all.

#12 – end

"What're you reading?" he asks, tilting his head so he can read the title—"Waiting for Godot, huh? So what happens?"—she closes the book, frowning thoughtfully, and replies, "These people were waiting for someone named Godot. But he never came."

#45 – ugly

His nightmare is always the same—he is sitting in the audience, looking up at the stage, lit by a single spotlight—she is sitting on a chair in the middle of the stage alone, the tears running down her face, and he knows who she's waiting for but he can't break through the wall that divides them.

#50 – wood

Her fingertip traces the dark ring his mug made on her desk once—she remembers how she got annoyed at him for it, but now she's glad to have it there to remind her.

#40 – spring

He notices the vase of flowers on his bedside table—the nurse adjusting his IV tells him that his girlfriend "brought them about a year ago; they're pussy willows, she said they never die"—he reaches out to stroke the furry softness of the petals, and whispers in wonderment, "...pussy willows?"

#48 – welcome

At the end of a particularly bitter day, at least he'd always be there with open arms, and she could go into them and let everything else fall away.

#22 – hollow

They say you're supposed to feel numb, empty, like nothing matters anymore—but he doesn't feel any of those things, he's too full of rage and bitterness and a burning, all-consuming desire to hold her in his arms and find that it's not true, that she's not really gone.

#4 – bugs

"And he's conceited, and rude, and he uses all these stupid metaphors that don't make any sense, and his coffee is so disgusting I get palpitations just from smelling the stuff when he walks by, and—" She could go on and on, but Grossberg cuts her off mid-rant to pat her shoulder reassuringly and say, "It's all right, my dear...he thinks you're completely charming as well."

#43 – summer

"Three words, Kitten—" Diego says mischievously as he plants his palms firmly on the desk and leans towards her–"Office. Beach. Party."

#13 – fall

The prosecutor has an intimidating smirk on his face as he shoots her down yet again, and she starts feeling sick, knowing that she's inches away from losing this case—but then Diego grips her shoulder and murmurs in her ear, "You know, that's the thing about kittens—no matter how hard they fall, they always land on their feet."

#19 – grave

His memories are all coming back now, and when he searches them he suddenly remembers the last time he saw her before he was poisoned—it wasn't even anything special; she was hunting for a file when he called goodbye over his shoulder and walked out the door—but it's etched behind his eyelids, and he wishes he had turned around at least.

#29 – old

"Don't worry, Kitten," he chuckles, "I'll be here for you until my hair turns white...and that won't be for a long, long time."

For La Maddalena when we did Armiando fanfic exchange...last year, I think?

Looking back at this now, I'm seeing quite a few good oneliners in here and I'm like-dang I was better back then than I am now where did all my writing abilities go

[theme set Delta from the 1sentence community on LJ]

~boswell