Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-04 02:52 am
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-04 02:52 am
Entry tags:
Boston Legal | Of Puppies And Tylenol | PG | Alan/Brad
Title: Of Puppies And Tylenol
Fandom: Boston Legal
Rating: PG
Pairing: Alan Shore/Brad Chase
Summary: Paul thought he’d seen everything. He was wrong.
Word Count: 945
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: Thanks for the spelling and grammar beta, Kelly.
Paul Lewiston had thought he’d seen everything.
He was a senior partner at Crane Poole & Schmidt, had just celebrated his sixty-sixth birthday, and had lived a more or less rewarding life, which had ultimately culminated in a successful career as an attorney. He loved the law—he’d even taught it—and although his life had had its disappointments, he was continuously working to make things better. He and his daughter were finally speaking, and she was getting help, he had a beautiful granddaughter, and perhaps his work life was more hectic than he wished, but he was employed at one of the best law firms in Boston.
In his sixty-six years, he’d seen a lot of things. Most of them had been at his time at Crane Poole & Schmidt, but he’d seen them nonetheless. He was hardly shocked easily, anymore. Dismayed, yes. Disappointed, certainly. But shocked? Rarely. Very rarely. He worked with Denny Crane and Alan Shore on a regular basis. Being easily shocked was a health hazzard, and Paul Lewiston certainly did not intend to die of a heart attack.
However, shocked was the only word that could describe his countenance after discovering the scene he’d just discovered. Well, perhaps it wasn’t the only word—were he not so flustered, he was sure he could think up plenty of synonyms. Grammar, however, wasn’t on his mind.
What was on his mind was the sight of Brad Chase and Alan Shore kissing. Kissing. In Alan Shore’s office.
To be perfectly fair—Paul was nothing if not a fair man—he should have knocked. However, Alan Shore had just crossed the line yet again, and Paul had been infuriated enough to forego the courtesy of knocking before entering. He thought that perhaps he wouldn’t be forgetting it any time soon. “Paul!” Brad exclaimed, springing away from Alan and wiping his mouth furiously, as if that would either erase the deed or Paul’s memory of it.
“Brad,” he allowed, doing his best to remain calm. Of all the people he might have suspected Alan Shore to be able to—well, there wasn’t any other word for it—corrupt, Brad had not been on the list, most notably because Brad was male. It occurred to Paul that this was an egregious oversight on his part, because this was Alan Shore. It didn’t do well to have expectations or predictions; they were almost always proven incorrect. “I came to speak with Mr. Shore. Please leave.”
Brad nodded dumbly, and Paul briefly felt sorry for him. He knew Brad looked up to him, and he hadn’t actually done anything—aside from having absolutely appalling taste in people he kissed—and so didn’t deserve the lecture tone. “I’ll speak with you later,” he added, in a much softer tone. Brad nodded again before leaving.
“He looked like you just kicked his puppy,” Alan noted. “I shall never understand how a grown man manages to actually appear so innocently and sincerely despondent.”
Paul rubbed at his temples. He considered the possibility that he was getting too old for this. “Mr. Shore,” he said, struggling for words, “your actions today were reprehensible. You do not seem to grasp the fact that other people beside yourself associate themselves with this law firm. They do not wish to see their reputation muddied by your ridiculous antics.”
“I think you already harangued me with this one. Do you keep these speeches written out on hand, and just recycle them every so often? You might consider getting new material.”
Paul closed his eyes. Breathe, he told himself mentally. “Fine. Explain to me this display in your office.”
“Paul, if it’s been so long that you can’t recognize kissing when you see it...”
“Mr. Shore.” He sighed. “Since when has Brad been–”
“Kissing me in my office? Hm, how long has it been? I’m afraid I don’t keep track of things like that.”
“Never mind,” Paul announced. “I have more important things to worry about. The less I know, the better. Just be warned that if this in anyway reflects poorly on Crane Poole & Schmidt–”
“I know, death, destruction, mayhem. Mhm. You have a pleasant afternoon, Paul. And please send Bradley back in here. I believe you interrupted something.”
“I need to speak to him, first, Mr. Shore.” Alan’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, and he wondered about that.
“He’s done nothing wrong,” Alan said, and Paul raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“I realize that, although we do frown on our attorneys kissing in their offices at Crane Poole & Schmidt.”
“It would be unwise, I think, to let your dislike of me in anyway affect your opinion of Brad.”
Paul smirked. Well. Alan Shore was just full of surprises. “What I say to Brad is in no way your concern,” he said, “but I was merely planning on apologizing—for, what was it? Kicking his puppy.” When Alan didn’t respond, he added, “Your interest is intriguing, however.”
Alan looked straight at him, then, and Paul found himself meeting his gaze. When Alan finally spoke, he said, “I don’t intend to kick his puppy,” and Paul understood what he was saying. It then occurred to him that he and Alan Shore were actually on the same page about something, and he wondered if he might be delirious.
However, Paul just nodded and exited Alan Shore’s office, heading to his own. He added, ‘Brad Chase and Alan Shore kissing’ and ‘Alan Shore actually giving a damn about Brad Chase’ to his list of things he’d seen at Crane Poole & Schmidt.
He felt that this job really ought to come with a lifetime supply of Tylenol.
Fandom: Boston Legal
Rating: PG
Pairing: Alan Shore/Brad Chase
Summary: Paul thought he’d seen everything. He was wrong.
Word Count: 945
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: Thanks for the spelling and grammar beta, Kelly.
Paul Lewiston had thought he’d seen everything.
He was a senior partner at Crane Poole & Schmidt, had just celebrated his sixty-sixth birthday, and had lived a more or less rewarding life, which had ultimately culminated in a successful career as an attorney. He loved the law—he’d even taught it—and although his life had had its disappointments, he was continuously working to make things better. He and his daughter were finally speaking, and she was getting help, he had a beautiful granddaughter, and perhaps his work life was more hectic than he wished, but he was employed at one of the best law firms in Boston.
In his sixty-six years, he’d seen a lot of things. Most of them had been at his time at Crane Poole & Schmidt, but he’d seen them nonetheless. He was hardly shocked easily, anymore. Dismayed, yes. Disappointed, certainly. But shocked? Rarely. Very rarely. He worked with Denny Crane and Alan Shore on a regular basis. Being easily shocked was a health hazzard, and Paul Lewiston certainly did not intend to die of a heart attack.
However, shocked was the only word that could describe his countenance after discovering the scene he’d just discovered. Well, perhaps it wasn’t the only word—were he not so flustered, he was sure he could think up plenty of synonyms. Grammar, however, wasn’t on his mind.
What was on his mind was the sight of Brad Chase and Alan Shore kissing. Kissing. In Alan Shore’s office.
To be perfectly fair—Paul was nothing if not a fair man—he should have knocked. However, Alan Shore had just crossed the line yet again, and Paul had been infuriated enough to forego the courtesy of knocking before entering. He thought that perhaps he wouldn’t be forgetting it any time soon. “Paul!” Brad exclaimed, springing away from Alan and wiping his mouth furiously, as if that would either erase the deed or Paul’s memory of it.
“Brad,” he allowed, doing his best to remain calm. Of all the people he might have suspected Alan Shore to be able to—well, there wasn’t any other word for it—corrupt, Brad had not been on the list, most notably because Brad was male. It occurred to Paul that this was an egregious oversight on his part, because this was Alan Shore. It didn’t do well to have expectations or predictions; they were almost always proven incorrect. “I came to speak with Mr. Shore. Please leave.”
Brad nodded dumbly, and Paul briefly felt sorry for him. He knew Brad looked up to him, and he hadn’t actually done anything—aside from having absolutely appalling taste in people he kissed—and so didn’t deserve the lecture tone. “I’ll speak with you later,” he added, in a much softer tone. Brad nodded again before leaving.
“He looked like you just kicked his puppy,” Alan noted. “I shall never understand how a grown man manages to actually appear so innocently and sincerely despondent.”
Paul rubbed at his temples. He considered the possibility that he was getting too old for this. “Mr. Shore,” he said, struggling for words, “your actions today were reprehensible. You do not seem to grasp the fact that other people beside yourself associate themselves with this law firm. They do not wish to see their reputation muddied by your ridiculous antics.”
“I think you already harangued me with this one. Do you keep these speeches written out on hand, and just recycle them every so often? You might consider getting new material.”
Paul closed his eyes. Breathe, he told himself mentally. “Fine. Explain to me this display in your office.”
“Paul, if it’s been so long that you can’t recognize kissing when you see it...”
“Mr. Shore.” He sighed. “Since when has Brad been–”
“Kissing me in my office? Hm, how long has it been? I’m afraid I don’t keep track of things like that.”
“Never mind,” Paul announced. “I have more important things to worry about. The less I know, the better. Just be warned that if this in anyway reflects poorly on Crane Poole & Schmidt–”
“I know, death, destruction, mayhem. Mhm. You have a pleasant afternoon, Paul. And please send Bradley back in here. I believe you interrupted something.”
“I need to speak to him, first, Mr. Shore.” Alan’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, and he wondered about that.
“He’s done nothing wrong,” Alan said, and Paul raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“I realize that, although we do frown on our attorneys kissing in their offices at Crane Poole & Schmidt.”
“It would be unwise, I think, to let your dislike of me in anyway affect your opinion of Brad.”
Paul smirked. Well. Alan Shore was just full of surprises. “What I say to Brad is in no way your concern,” he said, “but I was merely planning on apologizing—for, what was it? Kicking his puppy.” When Alan didn’t respond, he added, “Your interest is intriguing, however.”
Alan looked straight at him, then, and Paul found himself meeting his gaze. When Alan finally spoke, he said, “I don’t intend to kick his puppy,” and Paul understood what he was saying. It then occurred to him that he and Alan Shore were actually on the same page about something, and he wondered if he might be delirious.
However, Paul just nodded and exited Alan Shore’s office, heading to his own. He added, ‘Brad Chase and Alan Shore kissing’ and ‘Alan Shore actually giving a damn about Brad Chase’ to his list of things he’d seen at Crane Poole & Schmidt.
He felt that this job really ought to come with a lifetime supply of Tylenol.