The Portrait of Gamophobia (2) Harvey Spector

Him

Quentin Lowe sat idly on the witness stand, twiddling his thumbs underneath the large wooden wall in front of him as he held the clicker for his slide-show at the ready. The Lieutenant looked over at Cameron Dennis, the old District Attorney who was a joke to Quentin. He wasn't a real lawyer; just someone who got into law to manipulate the system any way they wished. Cameron Dennis wanted power. But Harvey Specter, he wanted to win. He was a lawyer because he was good at it. He was good at negotiating, and fighting for what he believed was right. Sure, he was a corporate lawyer, but he never screwed anyone over (unless they deserved it, which was the majority of the time).

Harvey, clad in a suit which was as much as one of Quentin's cars, began to walk to the centre of the courtroom. The judge, the Honourable Nicholas Heaves, watched Harvey as he paced the courtroom. Everyone in the room held their breath as Mr. Specter moved around the room. The spectators, as well as the camera crew. Every news station wanted to get all the juicy details on the case, as the public never really cared about what happened on that day. All they cared about was Max was taken hostage, and Harvey would have ripped apart the entire building to save her. Quentin bit his lip; of course, only the public cares about the romantic aspect of the situation. Not that Max got herself out of that situation all on her own, and she really didn't need Harvey's help. Speaking of Harvey, they all knew that he was furious with the man sitting beside his old mentor. People questioned the reason that Harvey didn't hand this case off to someone who could keep their emotions in check, such as someone as great as Jessica Pearson, but set against it. They knew if Harvey Specter was going to prosecute someone, he'd win, regardless of his conflict of interest.

"Lieutenant Lowe," Harvey said, his voice stripped from all emotion, "would you please summarize to the court the events that occurred on January eleventh of this year?"

Lowe nodded towards him, taking a deep breath.

"We received a call from dispatch stating that there was a hostage situation located in the building of Pearson Hardman at ten-sixteen a.m."

"Who was the caller?"

"Ezra Portwood."

Harvey hid his smile.

"For the court, can you explain what happened after you arrived?"

Quentin clicked the button on the remote towards the television, showing a screen shot of the clip, "We accessed the central security system, where we received footage of the hostage, as well as the suspect. The suspect had a gun pointed towards the hostage, and began to fire at her. From there, the hostage proceeded to..."

Lowe bit his lip.

"Lieutenant?" Harvey asked.

Quentin met his eyes.

"Sorry, Mister Specter. Just trying to gain my composure," he said, smiling a bit.

Harvey mirrored it.

"The hostage proceeded to throw a bookend at the suspect, causing him to charge at the hostage. Unfortunately for the suspect, the woman seen here then punched him twice, causing him to become incapacitated."

Everyone in the courtroom tried to hide their smiles.

"The hostage then ran to safety, barricaded in the washroom, where myself and the tactical team retrieved the hostage. A second tactical team went to retrieve Oliver Klades."

"Can you depict who is the victim, as well as the suspect."

"Yes," Lowe said, hesitant to continue. Mostly because he was afraid of Harvey.

He clicked the button again, and Max's key-card picture came up, "The victim is Maxine Harris, a junior partner at Pearson Hardman." Quentin clicked again, and the picture made Harvey twitch. "The suspect is Oliver Klades, a former client from Pearson Hardman."