It bubbled and fizzed from the cola mixed with kool-aid, threatening to overflow from its glass at any point in time but always stopping shy of actually doing so. The coffee had turned it a deep brown that neither of them had seen before in nature, only as siding on houses or as colours in paintings. It made sounds as the different parts reacted with each other, as if each different type of liquid were fighting for control of the glass, and the coffee made it steam. It looked like something that had just come out of a witches brew or a mad scientists lair, even though it smelled like fruit-punch soda.
Xander made a small clicking sound with his tongue. “Ladies first,” he said casually, glancing at Cathy.
She gave him a look, then took a deep breath and downed the whole glass so fast that she couldn’t have even tasted it. She stood for a minute, her eyes tearing from the bitterness of it, then she knelt down of one knee and started gaging, gasping for air.
She held her right hand to her throat as Mike and Xander started laughing.
She punched Mike in the shoulder and he fell to the floor in mock pain, laughing even harder. “So you drink it!” Cathy shouted, beginning to laugh herself.
Xander and Mike looked at each other. With a grin, they clinked their glasses together in a toast and simultaneously said: “Bottom’s Up!” They both chugged the drinks as fast as they could, and when they stopped, they both slammed their glasses onto the counter. They stared at one another, trying to see which one would give first. Both of their eyes began to well up, and Mike kept licking his lips, trying to scrape the taste off of his tongue. Finally, Mike broke down gagging, and as soon as the competition was over, Xander did as well. Cathy burst into laughter.
Mike and Xander both got to their feet laughing over one another. Xander went straight for the fridge and downed a bottle of orange juice, Mike and Cathy were not far behind.
They went back into the living room and sat down, still gasping. Cathy laid down on Mike and they both looked very tired. Xander glanced at his watch. It was now close to midnight. “I think it’s time for one of you to take your shift,” he said, licking his tongue across his teeth. “Who’s first?”
Cathy spoke up immediately. “I’d like to stay up first, thank you very much,” she stated bluntly. Giving Mike a little kiss, she said, “Time for bed now, hon.”
Mike gave her a look, but started up into the guest bedroom.
Cathy turned and leaned back as far as she could on her chair, watching as Mike slowly scaled the steep stairwell leading up to the spare bedroom. They’d all slept in that room at one point or another since they were kids. She and her sister had called it home for a week once while her parents went on a second honeymoon. She vaguely recalled Trina getting sick during that week and bathing most of the walls in puke.
Xander raised an eyebrow as he watched her almost stumble from her chair, downing the remainder of his coffee and then getting up to get a fresh cup. “Enjoying the view?”
“Hmm?” she hummed, turning around with a sleepy, dazed look in her eyes. After a moment she snapped out of it and blushed, but did not respond. “So what do you wanna do now? It’s been a while since I beat you in canasta, but I think I still know how.”
Xander smirked. “Not quite what I had in mind.”
“Really?” Cathy drawled, mimicking the same sly grin back at him. “You have plans? Do tell. We have ways of making you talk.”
She said the last bit in a very bad Russian accent and Xander almost bubbled over with laughter when she did. “Naw, no big plans or secret trysts or anything like that... not after Bob.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I was actually hoping we could just talk, y’know? I feel like we haven’t really had a chance to do that since that night at the party. Everything since then has been so crazy that I feel like this is the first chance I’ve gotten to catch a breath.”
Cathy smiled and nodded, standing up from the table. “Okies, but if this is gonna be another one of those kinds of talks, I’m gonna have to visit the ladies room first.”
“I see coffee still has the same effect on you.”
“Shut up,” she sneered playfully, turning and walking up the stairs.
Trial.wmb - Smith, D. 20600084. Don wrote at the top of the word document he’d opened as he spread several files out on his desk before him like playing cards. On the far left was an eight-by-ten glossy promotional photo of Megan Greene, on the far right was a smaller photo of Natasha Mayer in the top left hand corner of her letterhead. Buried at the bottom of the papers was a blown-up mug shot of Adam Genblade. He’d only kept it in view for a moment or two before the killer’s cold stare had made him shuffle it away.
He sighed, turning his neck in a semicircle to try and work the kinks out of his neck. He strained far to one side until he felt the calcium pop, letting out a small gasp of relief as he turned around and stared into the open vastness of his living room. At some point it had gotten dark, the still eeriness of the room staring back at him for a moment until he turned his eyes back toward the harsh blue glow of his screen.
Summers, Mayer and Soul, once one of the leading law firms in the
