By The Pond - A Lams Story

Chapter 1

   Alex groans. "Why do I need sunlight again? I can just stay in the office all day and be fine."
   George sighs. "No. You're a mess, Alexander. So get out of this car and do something at the park. Or I am locking you out of your office."
   Alex gasps. "You wouldn't."
   "I would. And I am. See you in a couple hours."
   Alex gets out of the car and shuts the door and watches as George drives off. So much for finishing that case today... Bright sun. He winces at the light and kinda meaninglessly wanders in a general direction since he is stuck outside for a couple hours. He rubs his thumb over his journal and tightens his grip on his pen, the only things Washing Ma- *cough cough* Washington would let him bring. He sighs. It's so bright and windy and definitely nothing like my office.
   He sees a bench that is taken by a guy with curly hair and a shocking amount of freckles, but he's busy drawing something and keeps looking at the small pond in front of the bench. Maybe he's drawing some turtles? But he's busy with that, so he shouldn't bother me... Alex sits down next to him and opens his journal and starts writing. 'The sun must be glaring at me because it's so intensely bright out here....' He keeps writing, unaware that the man sitting next to him is watching him in curiosity. But he goes back to sketching his turtles.
   After a while, the curly-haired man covered in freckles looks up to see Alex still furiously scribbling in his journal. "What are you so worked up about?"
   "I'm not sure what you mean," Alex keeps writing. And writing. And writing.
   "You obviously have a lot to say about something if you're scribbling so much in there," He shrugs. "It might help if you talked about it out loud?"
   "And why should I trust you with my feelings?" Alex finally looks at him. And sees that he has green eyes. Interesting.
   "Because I'm a stranger who you'll probably never meet again and you obviously have some pent-up aggression you need to let out. I find talking helps. Especially since I'm a huge rambler," John smiles at him.
Curly hair. Freckles. Green eyes. Rambler. Cute smile. Alex files all this away for future use, at least, if he ever meets this guy again. "Well, if you must know, my boss seemed to think that being cooped up in my office and living solely off coffee and not sleeping for long consecutive periods of time and not getting fresh air to be harmful for my health, so he threatened to lock me out of my office just as I was about to reach a breakthrough on my current case," He huffs. "And it's not like I don't appreciate my boss! Heck, I even see him as a father figure. Not that I'd ever tell him that. But I just love solving cases and helping my defendants and seeing justice achieved and the more people I can do that for, the better! Besides, I've been in this routine for the past five to six years and I've survived this long. So why do I need to change?"
   The freckles man frowns slightly and is silent for a moment. "You used the word 'survive', not live."
   Alex frowns, wanting him to get to the point. "Yes, so?"
   The other man sighs. "Surviving is only getting by. Living is different. You appreciate the things around you more, you don't stay stuck in one thing, you let yourself relax. Right now, you're extremely tense, the bags under your eyes are insane, and from what I can tell, both your heart rate and your breathing haven't calmed down since you sat here."
   Alex huffs. "What's your point?"
   The man shakes his head. "Your boss is worried about your well-being. You love your job, which is good, but you're obviously ignoring yourself completely, and you look a bit as if you could collapse at any second. And this is from someone who's never seen you before. You said he's like your father figure, right? Then he's worried about you, like a father should be, and watching you run yourself ragged like this is hurting him."
   Alex notices that he didn't say like his father is. Absent or not a good father? Possibly? "And how would you know this?"
   "Because he's trying to give you the help you need, even though you're fighting it. He obviously cares about you if he's willing to take someone as obviously stubborn as you, force you out of your office, and risk you fighting back. This sort of being kicked out is from love. Trust me." The man's voice falters a bit.
   "I see." Alex goes quiet. Kicked out by his father. I wonder why? "What's your name?"
   "I'm John Laurens." John recovers his smile, although Alex sees right through it. "And yours?"
   "My name is Alexander Hamilton." Alex returns, still trying to figure this man out. "It's nice to meet you, Laurens."
   "Please. Call me John." His smile widens. Real again. "It's nice to meet you, too, Alexander. But I'm afraid I have to go now. My shift starts in twenty minutes. I'll be off." John gets up, waves, and leaves.
   Alex watches him go. And only after John has disappeared from his vision does he realize that he failed to get John's number so he could talk to him more. "Damn it."
   He proceeds to open his journal and write about the mysterious John Laurens who is covered in freckles and has a cute smile. Although he is not sure why he writes the words cute smile. They just fit. And he ends up writing until George comes to find him.
   "What are you writing about?" George asks, causing Alex to jump and accidentally mark up the page of his journal. Alex scowls.
   "Freckles," he answers, because that is the nickname he has settled on.
   George raises an eyebrow but says nothing. "Well, come on. Your office is waiting. Along with some pizza because I know you haven't eaten all day, either."
Maybe Freckles is onto something. "Alright, let's go." Alex gets in the car without complaint. "You did get a Hawaiian pizza without the pineapple, right?"
   "Of course. How could I forget?" George drives them back to the office.
   Alex smiles. Maybe Freckles is right.