fandomtownies | Wolfram and Hart, Wednesday.

Janet raised an eyebrow. A law firm that had country music as its background noise? Ugh. Well, it was the only place in town. She shrugged and walked in.

Lilah looked over from her computer monitor and sneered at the teenager who'd just walked in. Oh, this should be fun. "I don't give out change for the school vending machines. Try the diner."

Designer suit, designer hair, perfect manicure, and bitchy attitude to spare. She'd seen that breed at the SGC a fair amount. This had to be the local legal help.

"Or I could be looking for legal advice," said Janet. God damn it, I hate this stupid teenage body. "And somehow I don't think what's-her-face serves up a helping of statutes with her apple pie."

Lilah raised a mildly interested eyebrow, then shot the radio a disgusted look when it changed over to an old Dolly Parton song.

"What kind of legal advice could you need? You look like a good little rule follower."

"You can't change the channel?" asked Janet dryly. "Rumor has it there are a number of other radio stations out there."

"Why, yes," said Janet. "I'm a good girl. So good that I take all my school notes in three colors of ink, and then I retype everything and highlight it. And organize my coursework by date and time that I have the class. You've got me pegged." She sat down in a chair in front of the lawyer's desk and slumped back. Then, just because this lawyer was irritating her, she stuck her legs up on the desk.

"So refresh my memory on confidentiality," said Janet. "Can I ask you things hypothetically right now and can you give a hypothetical answer? How much do you charge for hypothetical legal advice?"

"Free advice? Always check the fine print." Lilah rolled her eyes. "In here, there is one station, and it plays whatever it wants."

"Well," she drawled, taking one of the law books and using it to nudge the girl's feet ever so gently off her damn desk, "It can work that way, sure. Or you pay me, and you guarantee my confidentiality, even under court subpoena."

Not that any judge in this town would subpoena a Wolfram and Hart lawyer, but that was hardly the point. "Free consult, three hundred an hour after that. Plus fees."

Janet glanced at the radio, which was now playing salsa music. "So I hear. Does that thing unplug?"

Janet let her feet thud loudly to the floor, then shifted so they were draped over the arm of the chair she was sititng in. "Three hundred an hour plus fees?" she asked. "Gosh, I think I have to ask Uncle George to up my credit card limit before I can ask for real, grown-up legal advice." Okay, so she was bitter. So what?

She rolled her eyes. "So. Fine. Hypothetically speaking, were there a sixteen-year old teenage student interested in a forty-year old adult teacher, would there be any crimes committed should any immoral acts occur?" Janet smiled tightly. "Hypothetically."

"It doesn't even stay broken when it's in little pieces," she muttered under her breath.

Lilah's eyes narrowed. "No, that's for the confidentiality. And if you don't want the advice, feel free to leave."

"Hypothetically speaking?" Lilah smirked. Maybe the girl wasn't so innocent. She typed a query into the computer, then said, "The age of consent for the Commonwealth of Virginia is 18. A person who is 18 or older having sex with someone age 15, 16 or 17 faces misdemeanor charges, punishable by up to one year in jail and a $2,500 fine. Of course, that's only if they catch you."

"So, Lolita, I guess the question is really whether he thinks you're worth it."

The salsa music switched to Ricky Martin. "I don't think it likes you," offered Janet. Not that she was trying to be helpful. More like obnoxious.

"If I'd wanted to leave, I'd be gone," said Janet. "Do you see me going out to pick up the latest bubblegum pop CD, or do I look like I'm listening eagerly for every drop of legal wisdom to spill from your lips?"

Janet stared at Lilah. "Hypothetically speaking," she confirmed. "And were I actually sleeping with a teacher at the school? I'd be very worth it."

Lilah glared at the radio, then at the girl. "I think it's the radio station from Hell and doesn't like anybody."

She leaned back in her chair, flipping her hair casually over her shoulder and giving the girl a sneering once-over. "I'm sure you are, sweetheart."

"Here," she said, pulling a business card out of the holder on her desk, "for the hypothetical teacher. Just in case."

Janet snickered. "Try not listening," she said. "I've found it's an amazing technique."

Janet yawned as the lawyer looked her over. "Wow. Your designer disapproval has me quivering in my unfashionable sneakers. If I run out of here sobbing, do you get extra points for making little girls cry? Maybe an add-on to your year-end bonus?"

Janet took the card. Lilah Morgan. Hm. "Thanks. Because there are so many other law firms in this town that my hypothetical teacher wouldn't know where to go."

"I get no monetary gain from you running out of here sobbing," Lilah retorted, "but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside when it happens just the same."

"There's always Nowacky, Plotkin and Charters a few blocks over," she shrugged, "but I wouldn't recommend it if he doesn't want to spend his valuable time making license plates."

Wolfram and Hart, Wednesday.

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Re: Early - After Classics, Before The Library

Re: Early - After Classics, Before The Library

Re: Early - After Classics, Before The Library

Re: Early - After Classics, Before The Library