Apotheosis…



Story belongs to I. The characters::: Benjamin Stone, Shambala Green, Adam Schiff, Paul Robinette, Mike Logan, Phil Cerreta and Chet Burton belong to Dick Wolf/Law&Order


“I am not going to fight him on this. I cannot believe he wants to make this into a Fourth Amendment issue Paul…” Ben removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes. Paul reached over, taking the file. “The sole thing I am grateful for Ben, is that the man is in custody.” “In custody, on the moon, I do not want to fight him on this but I seriously want him to regret it for dreaming it…” Ben said quietly.

“We still have Cerreta. We have him on the stand. He can easily declare the right was given to check the bag…”

Ben sighed, sitting back. “I have come to realise that it’s always a case of hide and seek. Seriously Paul, it’s basically a wild goose chase and when we have the means to prosecute, we are pushed into corners and we are the ones who disturb the peace, we disturb the neighbours, because we want to make an issue out of everything… I am sorry but that in itself is…” Ben stopped due to the knock upon the door. “Yes?”

Shambala Green entered like the wind, muttering her greeting to Paul, Ben being the sole purpose of her sudden arrival. “What’s all this talk Ben?”

“Good to see you too Miss. Green…”

“Ben, you make it hard for me to even see straight. I am not going to allow it this time. In response to your little gift for me, I have come bearing some of my own…”

Ben leaned forward and glanced at Paul.

“Miss Green…”

“Ben, not this time. I am not having a good day so far and if you keep insisting, you won’t forget this one. I fry you on this one.”

Ben rose, placing his hands upon the desk and leaned close to Shambala. “I don’t take kindly to insults Miss. Green…” he uttered.

“Did you forget who I was talking to Mr. Stone?” She reached into her pocket, unfolding the blue and white letter. “Motion to suppress Ben. I am going for the murder weapon. It will not enter this case.”

“Don’t be ridiculous… What does Cerreta have to prove?”

“You can put Cerreta and Judge Balint in bed together for all I care, the weapon shall be excluded.”

“You are not serious with this…” he placed his finger upon the paper, raising his eyes to her.

“Watch me Ben…” she said quietly. Ben watched her leave the office in haste and narrowed his eyes to Paul, who was busy reading the file with silent intent.

“I cannot believe this…” Ben said with stable exasperation.

“Pray Judge Balint went to sleep right after lunch.” Paul whispered.

“That’s the thing Paul… sometimes sleep does help…” Ben said within frustration, sitting down. “We lose the murder weapon, we have to spend more money, more time getting Cerreta and Logan back on the case. As if this is the only one they have. What the hell is she thinking…?”

“I don't think the judge will pass this by Ben. But in the end, might even be happy to see you...”

“She is not slipping by me… She can bet on that…” Ben said under breath. Paul raised his eyes.



“Buried them all. Buried them all without breaking out into sweat.” Ben grinned. “Adam, it was too easy…”

“Even dealing with Sham-ba-la Green. I have to give it to you…”

“She herself was suffering a moment of mental defect…”

Adam nodded, handing Ben a glass of gin. “Well, Judge Balint believed the episode.”

“I had instinct one of the three was going to break…”

“You wear pride and instinct like an insignia Ben.”

“Adam, it was obvious it was in my favour. Seriously, how can anyone believe he was going to plaster the Fourth and First Amendment all over the place, all over his crime? Freedom of what? He killed someone Adam but he thought voicing out these rights would be his save. I always thought that if anyone would dare, do it for a rightful and justifiable cause. I mean argue in a court of law and simply believing the excuse. Hiding behind it. Not proclaiming right or wrong but most of time, it’s arguing for the sake of arguing and nothing to gain. Maybe I do believe the First Amendment is not for everyone…”

“Word of advice Ben, when you iron the damn shirt, don’t burn the whole house down…”

Ben shook his head, laughing to himself. He let his eyes stray toward the window, taking a long drink.

“Mr. Robinette… Do you ever rest? Gin?”

Paul denied the gin and tapped Ben upon the shoulder. “Someone outside who wishes to speak to you Ben…”

Ben felt his brows meet and glanced at the door. He excused himself and found himself face to face with Shambala. “I am not going to be smug about it Miss. Green…”

“I did not come here to argue Mr. Stone. I wanted to talk to you…” He motioned to his office down the hall and they settled into the room. He watched her carefully, as he sat himself down at the edge of the desk, waiting patiently for her to begin. She preferred not to sit and seemed a bit troubled. She was contemplating on what to say to him. “You were wrong Ben…”

He grew curious and placed the glass beside him, folding his arms. “In what?”

“I mean, you were the wrong.” She said, stopping her pace.

Ben slightly pulled back, his eyes oscillating about the room. Not fully comprehending her words. “I don’t understand…”

“Even if I begin to tell you… I don’t think I want you to. Can you do me a favour Ben?”

He nodded with obvious hesitant.

“Let me make it up to you…”

He felt a smile making itself known upon his lips. “Green, I don’t expect anything from you…”

She made every effort to let go of her heavy thoughts and neared him, determined to make the offer and stand defiant before him. “Let me take you out to dinner… Maybe I can explain it to you…”

He raised his eyes and stared. “Dinner?”

She nodded.

He nervously moved the glass without taking hold and contemplated the idea. After a moment, he nodded. “All-right. Are you treating?”

“It was my idea Ben. All you had to do was agree…”

“Even if it wasn’t… I was being sarcastic Green…” He rose, downing the drink before taking his keys and coat. “After you…”



He brought the rim close to his mouth, taking in the scent of the red. Scrutinising her every move from across the table. “What made you…?”

“I wanted to. I have been meaning to ask for a while now…”

He placed the glass down and leaned forward, placing his hands together, feeling rather unprotected at the moment. “Learn the…”

“No. Just the pleasure… of your company…”

“Jeez, who would have thought?”

Shambala cast her eyes, staring down at the untouched plate. It was apparent the food was to be a waste. “I don’t know what hindered me… before…”

He was somewhat charmed at the surrender of her incessant insubordination. She herself was undeniably abandoned within the same disposition, of being immoderately precarious. “Green, you make it seem as if there was… something…”

“Ben… let it go. It’s quite all right. Don’t you worry about me…” She pretended to be interested in the food, her eyes leaving the table and settling upon the band playing. “I did not really think you were going to win your way today… I esteem your manner Ben, your way of work… but I was convinced it was going to be me today…”

He sighed, not entirely impressed with the direction of the conversation. He was not to that very point attracted in the least to continue the day’s arraignment. He mimicked the act of concern but his annoyance was long over-due. Ben cast his eyes, eating a little and thought about the blemish of his irritation and thought it better to refrain. Not that he was unconscious of what was taking place. He acknowledged her with his eyes and felt that he was complacent in her presence. That he was rather elated to have conceded. He brought his hand to rest upon hers and she looked up at him, perhaps shocked that he would take that liberty. She finally stopped about the case and actually smiled for reasons unknown to him. She apologised and he nodded.

“How embarrassing that I should be so personal…”

“If you did not, why do it?” he stated quietly.

“Would you care to pick a subject…?”

“No seriously Green, what made you do this…? I mean, I would have thought you would prefer to be home, in bed, reading a book… and…” he stopped most suddenly, not wanting to sound overtly condescending and swallowed, absent-mindedly staring at the plate of food before him, wasted.

“Mr. Stone, I am planning something here…”

“Oh… are you?” his eyes flinched. He raised his brow. She nodded, drinking her wine.

“Would you care to share with me… this wondrous plan…”

“Ben, I am hoping to… cease hearing that story… When I least expect, it comes to haunt me… And I have become interested… to know if there is any other side to Benjamin Stone…”

“Want to meet my ex-wife? It would be a letdown and I would actually feel some sort of pity that you wasted your time…”

“Even outside the courtroom, I can run you over Ben.”

He grew amused. “Is that so?” Her expression was indeed dubious at his response and he felt his cheeks burn. The nerve of her he thought. He was actually bemused by her intentions. “From everything I have seen before… This is so surreal…” he whispered. He winked at her, pouring more wine into their glasses. “Shambala, you are rather peculiar… You don’t cease to amaze me…”

“I am not up for the part of being your confidante. I am telling you how it is Ben and if you wish… well, it’s basically up to you…”

He laughed. “If you insist…” he said quietly, raising his glass.



She removed her shoes, coat and gestured toward the divan, leaving him alone for a while as she sought glasses and more wine. He exhaled and quietly sat at the divan, letting his eyes move about the flat, everything that made her, her life, liking what he saw. She came back and handed him the glass, straying by her records. “What do you think of Coltrane Ben?”

“Sounds good…” he said, glancing at her. She had her back to him then and he silently admired her presence. Reflection that burned his throat and he did not fancy the thought that entered his head. He always learned within himself that he could be the one to encounter her, seek her and simply felt strange to be the one conquered. So many times or other, these images within his head, of how he would make time and solely tell her how he felt. Did it make him less of a man? Make it seem that despite the feelings he has sanctioned, the effort was not worth mentioning?

“When they have the ability to know you after they are gone… That’s something…” she whispered, sitting beside him. He slightly turned, seeking her with his eyes. “It seems a bit more personal after they are gone.”

“Shambala…?”

“Yes Ben…?”

“Don’t talk… You are making…” She looked at him, surprised at his words. He raised his hand, to be heard. “You are making me think too hard… And in other words, it’s not bad…”

“Ben… Oh Ben…” she breathed. “Dance with me, will you?”

She rose and he glanced down at her outstretched arm, her hand in wait. He placed the glass down upon the floor and took it. His cheeks were felt once again and he kept his eyes shut when they pulled close, slowly ever so slowly swaying to the music. He held her hands to his chest, holding onto them tightly, languidly looking down at her. Her green eyes watched him intently. Who would have thought such encounter would be this sudden? So unexpectedly? “Green…What the hell happened…?” “In what…?”

“What compelled you to take notice…?”

“Actually… there had been three things if you may…”

He waited, closing his eyes again, concentrating upon her perfume, the sound of her voice.

“When you sprained your hand… You seemed overtly vulnerable…”

“Isn’t that the only definition of a victim?” he murmured.

She pushed at him playfully. “Your… suspenders… the ones with the pinstripes…”

“Could I say you have a good eye…?”

“Amongst other things…” she taunted. He grinned.

“And this one… well… now that I think of it… your smile could be the third… the fourth even…”

“Shambala, I am not an ogre…” he stated.

“Your socks… It was those checkered socks…”

He felt his brows meet and could not help his laugh. “All this on separate occasions…? God Shambala, I had hoped so…It was a slow process but you managed to complete your mission?”

“I personally think you would be a good catch Ben… I don’t know how much I have to lose…”

“Not much…” he taunted, shaking his head. “Not at all…”

“In other words…?”

“I always liked… what I saw…I mean, I am… grateful that you asked me tonight,” he said under breath. “Even though, if I can be honest Sham, that it would have been me to do the damn asking...” She seemed relieved at the outcome and this got under his skin. “Hey, did you have doubt?” she shook her head, hesitated and nodded somewhat.

“All-right then… Leave me… Sit anywhere… Let me take over from here…” She seemed confused yet said nothing. She went to sit down at the table. He drank the remains in either glass and placed them upon the table. “Care for some?”

She nodded. He poured the wine. “Now after you take that in… I am going to ask you to dance…” he said smiling as she started to laugh. “Benjamin, are you crazy…?”

“Give me a few weeks… See me in court…” He most suddenly bent over and kissed her upon the lips. “Or simply make living hell by hitting me for no apparent reason…”

She shook her head, not longing to move from the state he put her in. He leaned against the table, looking down at her.

“I like you Green…” he said as a matter of fact.

She brought a hand to his face, passing her finger upon his mouth. He remained unmanned, paying attention to her eyes. “And anyway, I thought it was obvious…”

She rose, clasping her hands behind her back. “Why?”

“When I get in your face…” he uttered.

“I thought I did that…” she said quietly.

He felt a bit of suffocation, light-headed of being this close. He reflected upon every inch of her, breathing inconsistent. “We may have regret…”

“Meaning…?”

He placed both hands on her arms, taking hold after a long moment and made her turn, giving her back to him. He slipped one arm round her waist, the other by her throat and he let the table become her support. “I mean, how could we face each other after this?” “I could love you as much as I hate you…” she said.

He did not have to see the smile then. He felt it within her words. Held onto her, bringing his hand to unbutton the dress, bring his lips to her back, kissing gently. She placed her hands upon the table and despite what he yearned to do, he had to resist. Wanting to linger, not hurry; not end what was only beginning. He passed his pallid hands upon her back, removing the dress. He was undoubtedly amused by her garters and refrained from removing them. Realising that she preferred not to wear any sort of undergarments and he smiled. “Very nice Green…” he hinted. His hand slipped in-between her thighs, touching gently. He stopped somewhat, to remove his tie, unbutton his shirt halfway yet be so overcome by her, he let go.

He came close again, kissing the nape of her neck. Could hear her breath lose its consistency, become ragged. He closed his eyes tight, feeling a need to take her right there, without second thought but he preferred a bit more closure. Even if it could resemble the usual, it would feel better in the afterwards. He slipped his hand over her throat, helping her straighten, pushing her warm body against him. She turned quickly, kissing him fervently. He responded with every bit of strength. And she led him toward her room, admiring her somewhat naked body walking slowly into the dim hall, leading him.

He removed the suspenders, the shirt and waited to get into the room before removing the trousers and whatever else remained. Shambala sat at the edge of the bed and he stood before her, looking down at her. She pulled him down and he looked onto her with a sleepy expression, placing his hands upon her thighs. His finger briefly touching the halo of hair, the fingertip staining wet as he touched the lips of her vulva. She held the sheets tight within her hands, gradually closing her eyes. He pushed her back and roughly spread her legs, bringing his lips close to hers for a distinct kiss, tasting her.

She softly, very softly moaned and reached for him after a while. He met her level, looking into her eyes, his fingers caressing her forehead.

“I have wanted… this for… so long… Ben…” She touched his head, his mouth, his cheek.

“You reading my mind Sham?”

She winked at him, bringing his face close to hers, stealing a kiss. He settled upon spine, wanting her on top. His small hands caressed her heavy breasts, touching the small of her waist. Touching this being, this very woman who he always fought against, nonetheless the equal he yearned for in the entrapments of the most silent dreams, the ones that he recognised without ever remembering. They gave distress yet remained nameless, unseen for long days… and he felt it then, as if coming home. It was a connection taking place that he could not fight against; letting the storm pass for it was meant to happen. But that truth, that he would not tell.

He kissed her too many times, not longing for the early sun, wanting night to be eternity, be here with her. He took her once, twice, yearning to be soldered into her, by mind and body. But as he lay with her, her eyes gaining a distance, he made promise that he would be there, a bit more apprehensive when she looked for him. That she did not have to doubt as spirit. He passed his hands over her eyes, understanding what took place was meant, even though it had taken place without warning.

She turned her head, kissing his eyes and he placed his head upon her chest. Uttering her name. After a while, her eyes closed and he left her, thinking she was in sleep. He remained by the window, getting dressed somewhat, looking at the city in hazy light. He leaned against the wall, buttoning the shirt. The night came rushing to him, leaving him to contemplate its existence. That he himself would be caught within its whirlwind. To be with her. Something that he had pondered for the longest while now… and now… it had been done… This meeting between them…

He smiled to himself, wondering how odd was the glaring allusion but never conquering its truth. And what could have been… had been done… Instincts and suspicions and feelings were the act of nature to some of his cases and within reality, he had let her take the initiative. He let her be the man. And even though it bothered him, it got under his skin… he could not complain.

He rubbed his chin with a finger, not knowing how he let that one go, handing her the full-fledged responsibility. She came up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist. He closed his eyes for a brief second, feeling how she left a kiss upon the nape of his neck. He turned around, kissing her deep, fervid. Holding onto her face roughly. She pushed him off halfway through and he grinned, sitting down at the windowsill. Shambala solely looked onto him, her hand upon his face. “I spoke my only truth when I met up with Burton…” Ben held onto her arms, confused. “About teaching me a lesson…?”

She smiled. “In other words… But Burton himself was delirious to know what else I had up my sleeve… And I basically told him, I had to have you…”

“He did not tell me that…” he uttered incredulously.

“But now you know…”

He accepted her kiss. He fancied the manner in which her mouth sought his, sometimes holding back, leaving him to seek her in his desperation.

“Better late than never…” and when he heard this, even if she taunted or was merely stating truth, he knew she meant to say it, even if her voice seemed lost. He kissed her upon the palm, fervid, unsound.

“Green… Keep instigating…” he whispered, raising his eyes. She inhaled; slipping her arms round his neck, keeping there and content that he was ever so willing.