In-Court Contest

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⚠️UNDER EDITING⚠️

PAIRING: Anna x Reader

WORD COUNT: (previously 2,081)

WARNINGS: none

TIMELINE: Before the Season 1 plot of Stan Lee's Lucky Man

BACKGROUND:

A/N: This section was updated after its original posting. I hope you all enjoy the updated version! ;)

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This case had taken you weeks to work on, and now you could barely see straight. A strongly caffeinated coffee would soon fix that.

Your latest client had already fired her first lawyer – the one who had been present at the hearing – and you had to read through all the notes and transcripts the original lawyer had left behind to prepare.

The ungodly amount of all-nighters you'd been putting in to study Ms. Dupont's situation was beginning to take its toll on you, but today, it would all pay off. Hopefully. The opposing attorney wouldn't stand a chance. Not with how much work you put in. You can't lose.

With a sigh, you shut your folder, slip it into your bag, and rise to your feet. You step out of your office and walk down the hall, down the stairs, and stride through the door as confidently as you can.

The courthouse is a short walk, and you make it with plenty of time to spare before the trial. Having nothing else to do, you seat yourself a bench outside the courtroom and look at your paperwork again.

The unmistakable and authoritative sound of heels catches your attention, and you look up to see another woman approaching the doors to the courtroom.

You've seen pictures of your client's jet black hair and razor grey eyes. This woman most definitely isn't her.

Her honey-blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail, and she's wearing a tight but modest black dress and black heels. Her face is soft, kind, and tired. Under one arm, she's carrying a folder filled with papers, and under the other is the court garb she'll wear in a few moments. Yours is beside you as well.

She catches your eye as you stare and faintly smiles in greeting.

"Hello," she says before she briefly motions to the empty space beside you. Conveniently, there's only one bench. "Do you mind?" she asks pleasantly.

"Not at all!" you reply, inching over and moving your bag to the ground by your ankles so she can sit.

"Thank you." She seats herself and glances over at you. "You're the new prosecutor, aren't you?" she asks, her eyes glancing down from your face to the open notes on your lap.

"Yes," you say, not bothering to hide it. "I'm Y/n Y/l/n. And you?"

Her eyes flash with an emotion you can't quite read, and then she introduces herself, "I'm Anna Clayton. The defendant's lawyer. Lovely to meet you, y/n."

You recognize the name before she clarifies – you saw it on the transcripts you read – but you still can't help it when your eyes widen at the news. She looks so professional and prepared, you probably could've guessed her identity anyway. But instead, you're simply taken by her. She's absolutely and irrefutably beautiful.

"Lovely to meet you too, Anna," you reply, hoping to God that the sudden heat rushing to your face isn't visible to her.

"I hope you're a good attorney," Anna teases lightly and winks at you before turning to her paperwork, like you've been doing, and rereading over it.

"The best that I can be," you reply absently. You can't help but watch her, and you look away when you realize you're gawking. She's gorgeous – you have NO doubts about that – but right now you're on opposite sides, and there's nothing you can do about it.

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