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Jim Kirk! Legally Blond	By : Strailo Category: Star Trek > Star Trek Views: 2296 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, make any money off of this story. I do not own Legally Blond or the Star Trek Series. I do not own in anyway any person that is in this story. Full details inside.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Title: Jim Kirk! Legally Blond
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Part: 24
Characters: “Amanda Barnett” (another 'had to name but is an actual character' character), Jim, McCoy
Word count: 2,438
Warnings: Language
AN: Holy shit! Only two more chapters after this to go!!!! *cries* I am so sad to see this story go but excited for the future!

*~*~*~*

Sitting behind the defense table once more, Jim smiled slightly to himself, looking as if he wasn't really listening to Amanda Barnett lie through her teeth about what she had done during the day of the murder. Carol was making small noises of disbelief behind him, while sitting next to several of his old frat brothers. Luckily she wasn't making them loud enough to cause a disturbance, especially since she was writing down all of the bullshit that was coming out of the current witnesses mouth.

“Your witness.” Jim smiled brightly at those words and stood up, taking the paper that Carol handed him with a nod before he read over it, handing it to the judge with a nod.

“Miss. Barnett, did you know that I had to call a consultant for this case because something didn't fit in your testimony? But I do hope that you'll still indulge me in this. I want to go back over your interview step by step if you really don't mind,” Jim said. He smiled sweetly at Amanda, getting a wary look before the pretty woman nodded her head, her full curls swaying with the movement.

“Alright,” she agreed, shifting on her seat as Jim smiled brightly and walked over to the defense table, looking over his transcripts, tapping a finger on a spot.

“Alright then. So, you were out of the house for how many hours while you were getting a perm done?” Jim asked her, lifting his head and turning to smile at her once more.

She shifted in her seat. “I left the house about eight thirty that morning and got home just a little after noon, so about four and a half hours,” she said after a moment. “I swung by a fast food place to grab myself some lunch before I got home, otherwise I would have been there earlier.”

“So, for four and a half hours, your father and his wife was alone in the mansion?” Jim asked, making sure that little detail was crystal clear.

“I guess so. It wasn't one of the days to get anything cleaned, but I knew that when I got home that Galia was already in their room. Or so I thought. I didn't really bother to check on her,” Amanda drawled, shrugging one shoulder.

“And your father? Where was he?” Jim asked. He knew that Barnett had been found sprawled out on the lounge chair by the pool, a bullet hole in his chest and a shocked expression on his face.

“I had thought that he was either in their room with her, or in the kitchen since that's where I heard him,” Amanda said. “At least when I passed by it.” She brushed a curl from her face, brown eyes staring at the smiling Jim. She was feeling at turns like a cornered beast and so relaxed, sure of herself, that she didn't know what to think. She was stuck running on instinct to answer like she had planned on.

“Okay. So to make sure that I and the jury have this right, left the mansion around eight-thirty, had your hair permed, chemically I would guess with just how tight those curls of yours are still looking. After that, you grabbed your lunch on the way back, think you heard your father in the kitchen when you passed it, but didn't see either your father or step-mother while you headed up the stairs, right?” he asked, getting a nod. “Then what?” Jim prompted, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I went to my room and sat in the sitting area, watching a little television while I ate my lunch. Which was a chicken sandwich with honey mustard, no tomatoes and lettuce, and curly fries before you ask. I then took a shower,” Amanda responded. Her tongue flicked out slightly to wet her lips as Jim's smile softened.

“And that was about what time now?” Jim asked, coming to lean against the defense table. He noticed from the corner of his eye that McCoy had taken to hiding his face behind a glass of water, smirking while Galia watched him work with a carefully blank face. Carol was once more writing down whatever she could think of to use against the woman before him.

Amanda paused and wrinkled her nose, obviously thinking about it even as she felt the juror's eyes on her. “About one or so.”

Jim nodded his head. “Your father was shot about that time correct? And your room is on the other side of the mansion right?” he asked. “Were you listening to anything? Music? The TV?” he continued.

“Other side of the mansion from the pool area? Yeah, it is,” Amanda said, shifting in her seat as she crossed her legs. “No, I wasn't listening to anything. I dislike having noise going on while I'm showering since my work tends to call me at odd times. So I don't have noise around to be able to hear my phone.”

Jim nodded, his lips pressing together. “I see. So, you're saying that even over the shower going full blast, which is loud in and of itself, you being on the second floor with probably both bedroom and bathroom doors closed for privacy, and him outside, you were able to hear the gunshot blast? And it sounded like, how did you say it?” he mused, looking over his notes. His eyes were gleaming in anticipation. “Ah yes, it sounded like a boom.”

Amanda stared at him with her eyes narrowed, frowning heavily. “Yes, that's what I heard,” she said, tapping one foot in the air.

“Alright,” Jim replied, nodding his head. “Tell me, what did you do next?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“I got out of the shower, turned it off, and grabbed my robe before I ran out of the house to the pool. I found Galia standing over daddy,” she said as she shifted on the seat once more. It was looking as if Jim wasn't quite the newbie lawyer that the prosecutor had portrayed him to be so far.

“You ran out of your room, down the stairs, and towards the pool area? I'm really surprised that you didn't run out of the front door, or just call the police right then and there,” Jim said. He looked entirely too innocent for her taste.

“I wasn't exactly thinking about my actions. All I knew was that I had to get to my father. Unfortunately when I did get there, she was already standing over him,” Amanda stated, sitting back in her chair as she glared at Jim.

Jim just continued to smile as he settled in to tear the story apart. “Now, this next part is strictly for me and it's so I can tear your story into pieces,” he chuckled, watching the panic start to inch its way into her eyes. “Cause you see? I had to call in a few experts, like I told you. And it wasn't just for your home, but for your hair. I'm going to give you one chance to tell the truth and I'm sure that the judge won't hit you too hard with the perjury charge,” he said, tilting his head as he eyed the woman behind the bench. “Well, not too hard.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about,” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose. “My story is the truth. You're just trying to get that little bitch off. I knew from the moment that she walked in that she was a gold digging whore, and just the fact that she killed my father is proof enough.”

“Ah but the gun used has never been found and her fingerprints were all over the house. Along with yours,” Jim said, his eyes glinting. McCoy coughed slightly under his breath and picked up his cup again, draining half of it. “So where was the gun?” he asked.

“I don't know where it was or is. She must have gotten rid of it,” Amanda said. She watched as her story was picked at, Jim finding the loose threads and tugging on them with each word. She was feeling more and more like a trapped animal and she didn't like the feeling.

“Okay. Let's talk about how you ran down the stairs then,” Jim said, smiling once more. “The path that you took, as proven by the wet, drying steps, lead you right over a stone floor. We learned that when this stone floor gets wet, it gets slippery. I'm actually surprised that you didn't slip on the floor since during the testing of them, myself and a few colleagues did fall on our own butts. But then again,” he said, pausing, “the pictures showed that they were even measured steps, and not the frantic strides of someone running.” He moved to an easel that had been set up earlier, flipping the front picture around, showing what he was talking about. “Then there is the floor in the kitchen that extends to the dining room that you would have to run through to get to the pool. Once more, they are even measured steps. Are you really sure that you want me to go on?” he asked.

He could feel the way the jury was watching and judging Amanda, the story that she had woven around her starting to unravel.

“I really don't know what you're talking about,” she hissed.

“Okay then. To continue on, these footsteps were sopping wet. They were only slightly wet, which meant that at the very most, your legs were wet when you were walking through that area. And there were specialized oils that only those who are soaking their feet in a small foot tub would be using. So I highly doubt that you were showering at all. Which brings me to the next question.” He walked over and leant against the jury box, staring at her with an expectant look. “Were you really showering?”

“I was showering. And I wasn't using some foot tub,” Amanda hissed, getting more and more agitated with each word that came from him.

“Ah, now see, this is where I really tear your story apart. You see, I was with my nail care specialist just the other day to get my nails treated. You know what they say about proper grooming habits and all that,” Jim chuckled, the prosecutor standing up.

“Your honor,” he protested, “can we get this moved along? Mr. Kirk is doing nothing but annoying the witness.”

“No, he is not. He has a valid argument with the evidence to back it up so I'm allowing it,” the judge stated, glaring down at him. “And I know for a fact that he handed you that evidence yesterday too.”

Jim smiled as the prosecutor sat down again and started to shuffle through his papers, looking horrified at the fact that the evidence was the die hard do's and don'ts of post-perm hair care. “I'm going to give you just one last chance before I blow your story out of the water, Miss. Barnett,” he said, looking her dead in the eye. “Were you taking a shower that would have destroyed your perm, washing out all of the chemicals that needed time to set before the twenty-four hour minimum window was up?” he asked.

Amanda went rigid at the question, the prosecutor holding his head in his hands and groaning at his table before she snarled. Her anger swelled and she opened her mouth, making the biggest mistake of her life. “Fine! I didn't take a fucking shower. But daddy shouldn't have been in that damn chair!” she cried out, slamming her fists on the chair's arms. “If she had just been where she was supposed to be, she would be gone, some idiot would have been put away, and daddy would have been free from her gold digging! But no, she had to be in fucking bed and make me shoot the wrong person.”

The courtroom erupted into a chaos of raised voices as Jim rocked on his heels. They had not been expecting that admission to come out, much less to have happened that way. He turned to McCoy and Galia, his eyebrows raised at the surprised and happy look on their client's face. He returned the small smile on his lover's face. “Well then, I guess I rest my case,” he chuckled as the judge slammed her gavel down several times, calling for order. She was able to get every calmed down after a few minutes.

“Bailiff, please take Miss. Barnett into custody for further questioning and booking. Mrs. Galia Barnett, due to recent events and surprise confessions, I am very happy to say that you are free to go. All charges against you are dropped, all actions against you shall be stopped post-haste, and you shall be forever cleared of this,” she stated, Galia nodding and beaming happily. “I am sorry that you had to go through this to find justice for your husband though.” She waved it off with a watery smile.

Jim chuckled at that and moved to accept the tight hug from his friend. “I'm so glad that I could help you. Now, my bill will come sometime next week once Chekov works out all of the details,” he drawled. He pointed to the scribbling blond in the back rows who had his lover sitting next to him, reading over the list in his hand. “I bet that it'll be big, but it won't be as big as if you had stuck with Archer.”

“Thank you for this. Both of you,” Galia said, hugging McCoy tightly before turning to smile at Carol. “Can I set up a nail appointment with you in three days?” she asked, Carol pulling out a card with a time and date already on it.

“I expect you to come in on time and ready for the long haul, my dear,” Carol chuckled. She got a beaming smile from the pretty brunette.

“You did good, Jim. Really, really good,” McCoy said, his lips brushing one ear as he got a beaming smile from his lover. “I'm so proud of you.”

“I'm rather proud of myself too. I think that we deserve to go out tonight though. What do you think?” he asked.

“I think that's a wonderful idea and I know just the place.”
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Jim Kirk! Legally Blond