#she hides under bail and fox's desks

[varpusvaras]

Leia time travel but it's little Leia. She kicks Anakin's shin and runs away immediately yelling stranger danger

[lostandwonlove]

In a Lonely Place

Some Rafa ramblings courtesy of the ‘Rona. Hope you like. 

i.

On paper, there was no way she would ever be interested in someone like you. 

You, the mature, meticulous, ADA. She, the prodigious detective recently transferred to Manhattan SVU from some Podunk police department upstate.

Really, Liv? You had asked her as she walked you to her office to discuss the new serial rapist case they’d just caught. There was no one experienced enough in any of the other five boroughs to take this job? Or has Carisi put you off that for life?

Just wait until you meet her, Rafa. She’s done some pretty incredible stuff up there, and I think she’ll be a great addition to the team.

You’d harrumphed. Do they even have juries up there or do is it just a farmer and his 11 sheep?

Just ten actually, you heard a voice say and it made you jump.

I’m sorry?

The owner of the voice, a dark-haired woman in a leather jacket perched on the edge of Liv’s desk, got up and walked towards you. Just ten sheep actually. One of them got caught by the big bad wolf. Real shame. Farmer’s sheepdog makes up the twelve, but honestly, his attention span is poor.

You smirked. So in that sense maybe not all that different from a New York City juror.

Her eyes flicked over you, appraising the candy-cane shirt and tie combo you’d opted for that morning. Well I can see why if you’re wearing that outfit in court.

You’d do well to take a leaf out of my book. Biker-chic doesn’t play well with a jury here.

Play nice, Liv had interjected before taking you through the case they’d built so far.

Your eyes met behind Liv’s head and she smiled at you, mouthed touché, and you felt a sort of uncomfortable lurch in your stomach that you hadn’t really felt since Lauren Sullivan in 11th Grade.

Best to ignore it. No way she would ever be interested in someone like you.  

ii.

- or might she? The way she caught your eye and held it for just a second too long in meetings; the way her eyes flicked over you before she made some comment about the tie you’d taken far too long to choose that morning; the way she always managed to end up sandwiched next to you in the booth at Forlini’s after a big case.

The way she told Amanda ‘all my boyfriends have been older than me’ in response to a drunken conversation about silver foxes, her eyes resting square on you as you felt your heart leap before she burst out laughing and took a sip of her drink.

So what’s your type counsellor, Carisi had asked you, and uncharacteristically relaxed after a big win and two scotches, you’d told him it was girls who wear hoop earrings. You can take the boy out of the Bronx you’d said while the squad hollered around you, so loudly that you almost missed when she leant forward, tucked her hair behind her right ear and pointed at a scar on her earlobe. Learned the hard way that hoop earrings and chasing down perps really don’t mix, she whispered and her warm breath in your ear made your stomach lurch again –

iii.

Alarm goes off at 6.00am. First cup of coffee ten minutes later. You check your emails while you brush your teeth and shave.

Three times a week you jog, just enough to get the doctor off your back about your cholesterol.

Get dressed. Cufflinks, pocket square, tie.

You don’t eat breakfast, never have, even though you can always hear your mother’s voice telling you it’s the most important meal of the day.

Briefcase, packed the night before, by the door. Second cup of coffee on your way to the subway. In the office by 7.30, saying good morning to the night-time security guards who are just about to come off shift.

It’s been that way ever since you can remember.

It’s the same single-mindedness and determination that got you out of Jerome Avenue and to where you are now.

She is no less determined, but where you are all clean lines and black and white, she is hazy, mixed up and all different shades of grey. She always seems to be running late for something, has a messenger bag full of scrunched up old receipts and crumbs and hair ties, leaves the squad car filled with empty soda cans and takeaway boxes.

You find yourself compiling facts about her life. Two brothers, one older one younger, a roommate who works in the mayor’s office, a landlord who was taking forever to fix a dripping faucet in the bathroom. One date that went badly, one date that went realllly well as you overheard her tell Amanda in the break room, and one date that didn’t happen at all.

I need to get off those apps, you heard her tell Fin one day as she fiddled with her phone, waiting outside the court room for a verdict, and you found yourself silently agreeing.

iv.

- all this before you knew that she slept on the right hand side of the bed; hated coffee but drank gallons of diet coke; could do a killer impersonation of Chief Dodds; loved nothing more than classic movie marathons on TCM, your neighbour’s Labrador puppy which reminded her of her childhood dog, Dex, sleeping past noon at the weekend, the crusts of pizza dipped into hot sauce–

v.

Home. Sometimes 9pm, sometimes later.

You pick up dinner along the way. Sushi, salad, noodles. Or leftovers wrapped in foil from Sunday lunch with your mother.

You eat at the dining table, case files spread out in front of you. One scotch, maybe two.

Bed. Sleep, when it comes, is fitful.

More and more you find yourself joining in for squad drinks – ignoring Fin’s raised eyebrows – or taking the slightly longer route past the bar on your way to the subway just in case they’re there – although really you’re doing it for the extra exercise and the fresh air, and it takes you past one of the better bodegas, anyway…

One night in January you run into her on the courthouse steps after a particularly gruesome first trial day and you fall into step.

Is it always like that? She asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of the courthouse.

With Buchanan as defence counsel? Pretty much. You did a great job with your testimony though; you have nothing to worry about.

She gave a half smile. Only because I have a really good ADA.

You reach the bottom of the steps in companionable silence and as you think about the leftover Pad Thai and empty silence waiting for you back at your apartment, you find yourself doing something you haven’t done for a while.

Do you want to grab a drink? You blurt out, and already regret it. I mean, I was going to with Liv but she had to bail to go pick up Noah and it’s been a long day and…

Sloppy seconds, huh? She raises an eyebrow at you.

No, I just mean…

She smiles. Lucky for you, I have no objections to that. But I’m picking.

vi.

- when you told her later, much later, that you hadn’t asked Liv for a drink, never had any intention of doing so, she’d just laughed, told you she’d waited on the steps for half an hour in the hope she’d run into you –

vii.

The place she picks is some dingy, basement dive bar, Dempsey’s, Kelly’s, Dennehy’s, something like that – a place you must have walked past hundreds of times but never really noticed.

This feels like the type of place where my defendants would hang out. You feel out of place in your three-piece suit and cashmere scarf, and can’t ignore the stares of some of the other patrons who were clearly confused as to why you were there, and with her no less. Judging from the bottles behind the bar, you were going to have to find something other than Scotch to drink.

Yeah, your defendants and me. She pulls off her coat and jumps up onto a stool at the bar, where the tattooed bartender places two bottles of generic lager in front of her.  

Thank you Stan, she smiles sweetly. And…? She gestures throwing back a shot and he laughs and nods, pouring tequila into two shot glasses and placing them besides the beer. He gives you a perfunctory nod, clearly puzzled as to why she’s with you.

So this is where you hide then. You take a sip of the beer and try not to wince. You can’t remember the last time you drank beer.

Does that mean you’ve been looking for me then, Mr Barba? She smiles at you over the top of her beer and you feel yourself flush.

Only when I’m trying to track you down and reprimand you for illegal search and seizures. You emphasise illegal, and take another sip of beer. It’s beginning to grow on you.

That was one time, she says, in mock dismay, eyes opening wide. And it cracked that case, so I don’t know what you’re complaining about.

Me? Complain? Never.

She rolls her eyes. Ha. Well I’d rather have you on my side than anyone else.

I’m far too modest to respond to that.

She laughs and rolls her eyes. Modest and Rafael Barba in the same sentence is an oxymoron. It’s the first time you’ve heard her use your first name and you’re embarrassed that it gives you such a jolt of pleasure.

It’s true though, she continues. I’ve worked with some really dismal prosecutors in my time. Guys who turn up, collect a paycheck, go home again. I feel like you live and breathe this. Like you were always supposed to do it.

That’s weird, you quip. When I was younger I always wanted to be Hawkeye Pierce when I grew up.

She looks puzzled.

You groan and take another sip of your beer. No! You cry in mock dismay. You cannot be so young that you don’t know who Hawkeye is. MASH? Alan Alda?  

She shakes her head and wrinkles her nose. When I was younger, I wanted to be Hannah Montana, she offers by way of consolation.

Oh Good God, you say as you rest your head in your hands. How old are you? But when you turn to look at her she’s smiling, her tongue between her teeth, and you can tell she’s messing with you.

Just kidding, she says. For me, it was the Pink Power Ranger.

Thank God. I was worried I was going to have to prosecute you for under-age drinking.

You both laugh at this, and then she stops suddenly. She leans closer to you and you wonder whether this is it, whether she’s going to kiss you. What she does feels much more intimate. She reaches over and grabs your tie, loosening the knot. You’re not in court now, Rafael. She clinks her shot glass to yours, tosses it back before she runs her hand through her hair and smiles at you. You notice, not for the first time, just how pretty she is.

viii.

- when you wake the next morning you realise you’ve slept through your alarm and two missed calls. Your head is pounding and your mouth feels like a cotton wool pad, but you realise, as you frantically splash water on your face that you can’t stop smiling like a maniac –

ix.

Nothing happened that time. Or the time after. Or the time after that.

When it did happen, it wasn’t at all how you imagined. In your head, you were cooler, calmer, way more collected. It was you who initiated it, you who would open up and tell her how you felt at the bar after a couple of drinks. You would ask her out, set a date, pick somewhere nice, dress up.

In reality, the bar rang last call and she signalled for two shots.

No, not again, you laughed. I’m still having to grovel after turning up later after the last time.

Who said one of these was for you? She knocked both of them back herself, one after the other.

Dutch courage she told you and your puzzled expression as she placed one hand on each of your knees, jumping down for the bar stool to stand in between your legs, so that you were eye level. I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re never going to act on anything, so I’ve got to do it myself.

Your heart quickened. What…

But she cut you off as she covered your mouth with hers, her breath warm and sickly sweet from the shot. You felt her mouth curve into a smile as you kissed her back. Good, she murmured. It wasn’t just my imagination.

x.

- God, you were like a horny teenager or something, hands all over her at the bar, continuing outside in the street after you were finally kicked out. You weren’t thinking straight, weren’t thinking anything at all really. Only a bunch of drunk Wall Street bros wolf-whistling broke you out of your reverie, and you stood, staring at each other, panting, lips parted. She pulled at the bottom of your jacket and pressed her body into yours. Well Rafael, I’d invite you back to mine but I have a roommate so –

xi.

In the end, you never really had that date you had planned. She just went from not being in your life to – well, being there.

Now you sleep until 7.30, wake rested, satiated, ready for the day. You drink your coffee in bed, gag in mock horror when she makes you eat breakfast, get dressed while she sings loudly in the shower.

You whistle on your way to the subway, say hi to the morning security team who you don’t recognise, buy coffee for Carmen and the other assistants on the corridor.

She splashes colour right across the black and white of your life.

She leaves coins that she empties out of her pockets on every available surface. She never puts the top back on the toothpaste, leaves the tube snarled and twisted because of her insistence on squeezing from the top and not from the bottom like a normal person. She folds down the corner of pages in books that you’ve kept pristine for years, chews on the end of your pens while she does the crossword, leaves the bed sheets in a crumpled mess, when she wakes up late than you, her damp towel on the bathroom floor.

You leave work on time. She cooks dinner. You work while she stretches out on her stomach on your L-shaped sofa watching black and white movies, while you pretend not to notice the red wine she spills on your cushions.

xii.

- without telling anyone, everyone else seems to know too. Amanda raises her eyebrows knowingly at you when you leave the precinct one night together. I’ve never seen you so relaxed, Liv says, it looks good on you. Most mortifyingly of all you run into Nick at a pharmacy, when he comes up behind you as you’re picking up a box of condoms. Evening counsellor, he says, smirking as he strides past you, turning to wink at you -

xiii.

We’re a bit like them, she had said one night, gesturing to the flickering screen in your apartment where some old black and white movie was playing.

Hmmm, you responded, barely paying attention as your eyes scanned a case file at the dining table behind the sofa where she lounged in shorts and a vest top.

Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart, she said. He was the older, debonair man. She was the sultry younger woman. She paused stretching her legs up in the air seductively, cocking an eyebrow at you.

You laugh half-heartedly. I always thought of myself more as a Gary Cooper.

She looks at you appraisingly. No, definitely a Bogie.

Oh, great, you say. The guy who was so much older than his partner that he died about ten years after they got married.

But he drank and smoked like a sailor.

You raised your glass of scotch to her, tapping it with your index finger. One out of two ain’t bad.

Yeah you need to cut down on those.

And who was it I had to put to bed last week because she drank too much red wine and fell asleep in the taxi home?

She stuck her middle finger up at you. I’m not an old man though.

You grimaced, your exaggerated facial expression only just masking the real pang that shot through you with her words.

She rolled over and jumped off the sofa, stretching and arching her back so that her vest top lifted and you could see the smooth, pale skin of her stomach.

Careful, you’ll give this old man a heart attack.

She turned towards him and grinned. Right on cue, on screen Lauren Bacall turned to Humphrey Bogart.

You know how to whistle, don’t you Rafa? You just put your lips together and blow. She purred as she pushed your papers to one side and straddled you, just before showing you what else her lips could do.

xiv.

- but then all of a sudden it’s sloppy mistakes, uncrossed t’s and undotted i's. It’s McCoy in your office, eyebrows raised in surprise that he’s even having to pull you up on these things. I don’t know what’s got you distracted he says, but I need you to sort it out before we really blunder, the DA’s office can’t afford another mistake –

xv.

On weekends you sleep in, go out for brunch. You walk round the park, laugh as she refuses to accept your help with the crossword. You make plans to try that new French place that’s opened across the street from your apartment, to help her paint her room, to take her skiing.

One weekend you barely even leave the bedroom. After the third time you ask her to slow down, I’m an old man, I’m not like the young studs you’re used to.

She grins and rolls to splay on top of you, her face fitting into the crook of your neck where she says you smell most like you. And where can I find these young studs of which you speak she murmurs, biting your earlobe causing you both to start convulsing with laughter until you’re both on top of each other again and your laughter is replaced by something else entirely.  

xvi.

- you seen Barba’s new piece? You hear a male voice, one you don’t recognise, come into the restroom. Whoever he’s with laughs. Yeah, who would have thought? Must be some real Daddy issues going on there. Then there’s a crude joke about what you’re like in bed. You feel your face burn with anger, but also shame, and you wait until they’re gone before you unlock the cubicle and come out to wash your hands –

xvii.

One Sunday you take her to lunch with your mom. When you pick her up she’s wearing a dress, carrying a bottle of red wine. Is this OK? She asks. Do you think she’ll like it? She fusses with her hair as you knock on the door and wait and you squeeze her hand in reassurance.

You eat your mother’s ropa vieja and hide your embarrassment by drinking your wine while your mother tells the story of how she knew you were going to be a lawyer after you’d argued you, Eddie and Alex out of detention for breaking up a fight on the school bus.

She compliments your mother on her home, asks to see photos of you as a child, clears the table without being asked and gets to work washing up in the kitchen.

Your mother eyes you over the table. You look happy, she says finally.

Why do I feel like that’s not a compliment, you ask.

She takes a sip of her wine. She’s much younger than I was expecting, mijo. Just be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.  

You make some joke about not being as fit as you once were, but that you weren’t that worried about your cardiac health while she fixed you with a pointed look.

xviii.

- she carries home a Tupperware container filled with leftovers on the subway, asks you how she did, if your mom liked her. She tells you that her big brother is going to be in New York for work next month, that maybe you can all go for dinner at that Thai place you tried last week. You kiss her on the lips and tell her that sounds great, not without noticing the looks you get from the two women sitting across from you who whisper something to one another, the man standing by the door with headphones on who smirks at you –

xix.

You start to doubt yourself.

You notice how the eyes of younger men, better looking men, men with biceps and triceps and god knows what other else-ceps, linger on her when she walks by. The unis in the squad room, the court officers, the barista in the coffee shop by your apartment.

You become ever more aware of the grey hairs creeping into your sideburns, of the way your shirt stretches across your stomach.

You don’t miss the glances her friends exchange with one another when you’re the first to leave drinks to head home.

Jailbait, you hear. Cradle robber. Mid-life crisis. Barba? Thought he was gay. Must be rich, huh.  

It starts to feel wrong, illicit. You lie and tell her you need to stay late at work, that maybe it’s best if she doesn’t come over tonight, you’ll see her at the weekend.

xx.

- you don’t tell her how much it hurts when she sends you a selfie of her and Carisi and Amaro later that night. Her eyes are scrunched up in a smile and she has one arm draped lazily over Nick’s shoulder, while Sonny’s hand grabs her waist. Hope work going ok, she texts with a winky face emoji. You lock your phone and place it face down on the coffee table at home where you’ve been all evening, drinking scotch and watching CSPAN –

xxi.

You’ve never really broken up with someone before. It’s strange for someone who’s normally so assertive, so intentional about their life and their work, but you’ve either just let things fizzle out slowly or pull back long enough for the other person to break up with you.

That doesn’t work this time.

We need to talk, she says as you open your front door to you one night. You’re caught off guard, expecting the delivery driver with your Chinese, and she marches straight past you, arms folded, mouth in a line.

What the hell is going on with you?

Nothing, you say. I’ve just been busy. I keep meaning to call you.

Seriously? She says. That’s what you’re going with?

Unusually, you find yourself lost for words, stunned into silence by her eyes that are shiny with rage. You try to think of something clever to say but find yourself only able to shrug half-heartedly.  

Because from my point of view you’re behaving like a frat boy asshole, and I’m way too old to have to deal with that shit anymore. I don’t understand… She tails off, as if she’s tired herself out. She collapses on the sofa and you realise that her eyes are not shining with rage, but with something else entirely. Hurt.

What did I do, Raf?

You didn’t do anything you want to say. You’re beautiful and perfect and incredible and deserve so much more than me and what everyone else says about us. You’re better off without me and I wish things were different. You don’t say any of that, throat so thick with emotion that you barely trust yourself to speak at all.

I just don’t see this working out, you say instead.

She stares at you wordlessly, apparently waiting for you to continue. When you don’t, she stands, winds the scarf she’s been holding in her hand around her neck and moves to leave. She stops at the door, looks back at you. God, I’ve been such a fucking idiot, haven’t I.

You move towards her, reaching a handout to touch your shoulder. I still really want us to be frie…

She recoils like you just slapped here. Don’t even say it, she had snapped suddenly, pulling away from you, eyes flashing.  Fuck you.

And then she’s gone, door slamming behind her, leaving you stunned into silence until its broken by the door buzzer going again. Your Chinese food has arrived.  

xxii.

- only to have that thrown back in your face months later when you joined the squad for drinks, Amanda asking what had happened to you guys, oh we decided that we’re better off as FRIENDS, she said, but you couldn’t miss the hard edge in her voice, the split second when she made direct eye contact with you –

xxiii.

Your alarm goes off at 6.00am. Coffee, emails, shower and shave.

You get dressed. Cufflinks, pocket square, tie, avoiding the yellow and black striped one she said made you look like a bumblebee.

Briefcase, coffee shop, subway. You ignore the security guards gossiping as they finish their shift, head straight to your office.

It’s always Nick or Amanda who come to collect the warrants or to drop off files now. When you’re forced to go down to the precinct for a line-up or to meet with Liv, she’s conspicuously absent, always out on a job or on a coffee run.

You think you catch a glimpse of her in a packed courtroom one day, but she leaves right as its adjourned, takes the stairs and doesn’t linger out on the courthouse steps.

Excellent job, says McCoy, fantastic work on the Barker case. The folks at City Hall are really taking notice. Rumours of a judicial appointment are circulating.

You go home late, when it’s already dark. It’s quiet. Your bed is perfectly made, the dishwasher stacked exactly how you like it, the towels are hung up. You turn on the lights, unpack your take-out and eat it alone at the dining room table in silence.

You like it better like this, you tell yourself. Everything back to the way it was.

xxiv.

- but sometimes you ran Turner Classic Movies while you worked late at night, until you caught a snippet of Humphrey Bogart speaking to a woman in a car. I was born when she kissed me, I died when she left me, I lived a few weeks while she loved me, he said. You turned it off and worked in silence for the rest of the month –

xxv.

She calls you once. It’s Thursday night, you’re still in the office.

Hey, she says, long and slow and you can tell she’s be drinking, can tell from the background noise that she’s probably still out somewhere. Her voice is warm and syrupy and you feel your stomach tighten.

I miss you, she says.

Please don’t do this, you ask.

Do what, she says. I just wanted to phone to speak to you. Like friends do. Her voice turns sharp and bitter then before she bursts out laughing.

I think you should go home.

There’s nothing on the end of the line then, just shouting and static.

Hello? You say.

Sorry, she slurs. I dropped the phone. What did you say?

I said I think you should hang up this call and go home. I think you’re going to regret this tomorrow morning.

OK Dad. She starts laughing again. Dad, that’s what everyone said to me when we were dating, like I had some sort of Electro complex.

Electra, you correct.

Yeah that’s the one. Which is ridiculous, because I just liked you so much.

She pauses. So so much.

You sigh. I’m going to hang up now, you tell her.

Not if I hang up first, she responds and then the line goes dead. You put your phone on silent and bury it at the bottom of your desk drawer but she doesn’t call back.

xxvi.

- she’s running late the next morning, Liv tells you as you sit in her office. Something about a broken shower. You see her walk in two hours later, sunglasses on, dumping her coat and her bag on the floor beside her desk, avoiding eye contact with anybody. When you leave Liv’s office she bolts from her desk, mutters something about needing some fresh air and she’s gone before you can say anything -

xxvii.

It’s a cold, overcast March Monday the next time you see her.

We need you up at Green Haven, Liv tells you over the phone. A low-level trafficker offering to spill on the rest of the organisation in exchange for a few years off a sentence. I’ll send someone up with you, I seem to remember Uber doesn’t go that far.

You roll your eyes at the joke that you’ve heard too many times for it to be funny. Just send anyone but Carisi, you say. That guy insisted on listening to Journey the whole way there and back.

When you head out to meet the car a couple of hours later, it’s not Carisi in the driver’s seat. It’s her, staring straight ahead, hands clutching the steering wheel, sunglasses on despite the clouds.

Save it, she says. I was all for inflicting Carisi’s one man Journey tribute act on you, but according to Liv I’m the only one who has a rapport with this guy.

xxviii.

- it’s not until you check your phone at a rest stop that you see the message from Liv with just the winky face emoji –

xxix.

The silence is excruciating. She fiddles with the radio as you head of the city but the reception keeps dropping in and out until the only station you can pick up is some call-in show about vegetable gardening that even she can’t stand listening to. She turns it off and you continue in silence.

The visit itself goes smoothly, the trafficker spills without any encouragement. You agree three years off the sentence if the information turns out to be true.

Then you’re back out again, her striding towards the card ahead of you. Hey, you say. Come on. I really don’t want to spend another 2 hours with you in complete silence. Can we talk?

She stops and turns to look at you. You know I’ve always thought Greenhaven Correctional Facility had the perfect ambience for difficult discussions with ex-lovers.

You laugh despite yourself. I didn’t mean here. Look, what was that place we passed on the turn-off on our way here? Ray’s? Jay’s?

As it turns out, it was Sal’s, and that’s where you found yourself sitting next to her on the hood of the car, drinking one of the worst cups of coffee you’ve ever had in your life. You’re both quiet for what seems like an age, the low hum of the cars passing on the highway the only sound.

I feel like I owe you an apology, you finally start.

She snorts derisively.

I treated you like a – what were the words you used again – ah yes, a fratboy asshole. That gets a weak laugh out of her. I’m sorry.

She shrugs in a way that seems defeated. I just don’t understand what happened, Rafa. I thought things were going great, I met your mom – which, you should know, is not something I do with every guy – and then next minute you’re just gone.

She takes off her sunglasses and looks at you dead in the eye for what’s probably the first time that day. I just want to know why.

You take a deep breath. Honestly? You ask.

Honestly, she says.

I got sick of people making comments about us. I’m what, 20 years older than you? And I look it too. It felt like everyone was judging me, making me feel like I was some sort of perv. I started to believe it; maybe it was disgusting, maybe you were better off without me.

She laughs outright at that. Seriously? Don’t you think I get to have a say in whether I’m better off without you? She says. Because I don’t think I am. People can say whatever they want to, I only care about what me and you say.

She pauses. Also, you are a bit of a perv.

That makes you laugh softly too. You know, I wish I’d had a girlfriend as mature as you when I was your age. I’d probably be in a lot better shape than I am now.

She purses her lips and moves her head from side to side as if she’s considering something. Yeah well, maybe you’d be married to them and you wouldn’t even have noticed me. And I’d probably be dating some fratboy asshole who could never make me nearly as happy as I was when I was with you.

You sit in silence briefly. Then you slide your hand over to cover hers laying on the hood. Was, you ask? Past tense.

She just takes a sip of energy drink from some luminescent can and makes a face. Ugh, she says. If I’m going to date you, maybe it’s finally time I learn to like coffee.

xxx.

When you open your eyes the next morning, its light and for the first time in a long time, you don’t remember having wakened in the night.

You can see a pile of change and scrunched up receipts on your bedside table. A pair of jeans thrown on the chair in the corner. You can hear the shower running and her voice as she sings along to the radio.

You smile.

[redsdesktop]

Namelessshipping: What If...

Chapter 7

Pairings: Red x Green Oak

Warnings: None

AU: Canon Divergence.

Red pushed Green away from him by the hands on his old friend's arms, holding him at a distance to keep Green from trying to kiss him again. Everything about this situation was wrong and it was not the way he envisioned his first kiss would go like. It was supposed to be romantic and have great meaning, where he would admit his feelings towards Green and Green would reciprocate. Not Green reeking of alcohol and bad decisions. Red scowled, making his expression serious as he felt like reprimanding Green, but when he caught sight of Green's face finally, all his anger deflated almost instantly. He was still upset and hurt, but when faced with this, Red knew his weakness.

Green was crying.

It was a rare sight, one Red had only seen once or twice in his childhood whenever Green had a bad dream. Late at night in the darkness so Red wouldn't be able to see Green's lapse in strength. Seeing him cry as an adult wasn't any better, the light from the lamp prevented Green from hiding his tears now. The way they watered his hazel eyes and Red hated to admit he found Green beautiful in this moment. Even though his friend was drunk and crying his eyes out, the emotion he could see in those amber depths was raw and unguarded. Red wanted that, wanted Green to look at him without his usual guards up. He just wanted the real Green, but that didn't mean he was going to accept using alcohol as a form to get what he wanted.

It was everything or nothing, Red would accept no less.

Still though, he didn't have the heart to push Green away as the other male looked so vulnerable and flighty, as if any moment he'd run away after being rejected. Green would thank him tomorrow, or not considering he'd likely fall back to old habits again.Red pulled Green close, wrapping his arms about his friend to hug him close. He wouldn't kiss, but hugging was just fine to comfort Green. It made him wonder if Green ever cried in front of anyone else before, if they would hold him with silent care like Red did. Instead of going to his own room where he assumed Green's lady of the hour was, he had stumbled to Red's room. He didn't want to think too much into it, but he was just glad that he could be there for Green, he just wished he could be there more often.

As Green quaked with silent sobs, Red stroked his back, letting the other man let it all out. Red knew of Green's habit of keeping everything in, it wasn't healthy so he wasn't about to interrupt this moment. Already he could feel the tears soak in his red and white shirt, wondering why Green of all people was crying for. Red had assumed Green was happy, his friend had all his dreams come true. He was famous, had the attention of many, people admired and respected him. He was an idol to so many, maybe Red wasn't looking hard enough. It made him feel like a terrible friend for missing the fact that Green was suffering over something. He lifted a hand, curling a light brown spike of hair around his fingers, watching the way the silky strands brushed over his skin. He didn't know if he'd ever get the chance to touch Green like this again, so he allowed himself to be a little indulgent.

Eventually, Green was slumped against him heavily, he had stopped shaking with his hard crying, leading Red to believe he passed out finally. Slowly, Red began to half carry, half drag Green over to the only bed in the room. Eevee and Pikachu made room for Green as Red eased him down onto the bed, it was when Red was pulling to covers up over Green that he noticed his old friend was watching him with dry, red-rimmed eyes. Red hesitated a moment, trying to figure out what he should say or do. He had a thousand questions to ask Green but he would feel guilty about taking advantage of Green's current state. It was wrong to pry when Green was this exposed, he didn't want his friend to regret it later and hate Red for it.

"Why?" Was all Green asked as he stared up in confusion, Red glanced away, unable to look into the very eyes that haunted his dreams. Now he would be haunted by the memory of Green crying in front of him, he wasn't certain if he could take much more of this. He had thought meeting up with Green again would be nice, but it was only making his yearning for something he couldn't have even worse. Red raised his hands, about to sign something but stopping himself, hand gestures wouldn't get his feelings across. Red licked at his slightly chapped lips before swallowing roughly. After so many years, he finally broke his silence. His voice was low, soft, and a bit scratchy from lack of use.

"Because... I love you too much."

The next morning, Red was at his desk working on his latest research paper on the Kanto water Pokemon here in Alola. Green was still asleep in his bed, having passed out after Red had admitted his feelings towards him. Red was almost certain Green wouldn't remember it, torn between wanting Green to forget or to remember. He'd been so stressed over it, he couldn't sleep. Instead, he stayed up the rest of the morning to work on his research. He only stopped to go downstairs and grab some coffee and breakfast, also grabbing a bottle of water and aspirin for Green. Red didn't know much about drinking, but he'd overheard and seen enough on television to know that after getting drunk one typically had a hangover. The coffee didn't help ease Red's nerves though, only served to make them worse since he wasn't a coffee drinker.

He leaned his elbows on the desk, stopping his typing to rub at his tired eyes. What the hell had he been thinking? He shouldn't have said anything, but having Green kiss him like that had thrown him for a loop. Did Green really feel something towards him? Or was the alcohol making Green have bad decisions? A low groan filled the room, but it wasn't from Red. Green was slowly starting to wake from the sounds of it, making Red tense. The hour of judgement was upon him and Red wasn't ready in the slightest. He glanced at the door, wondering if it wasn't too cowardly to bail while he had the chance. He didn't want to face Green after last night, afraid he had just screwed up any hope that he could at least be friends again with Green.

"...The hell... What're you doing in my room, Red?"

Too late to run. Red couldn't stall any longer as he turned to look over at Green. He paused at the sight of Green sitting up in his bed, his silky black shirt wrinkled and that brown hair a complete mess. Despite the soured and pained look on Green's face, Red's breath caught in his throat. When Red didn't answer him right away, Green's glare turned harder. Quickly, with a faint tint to his cheeks, Red raised up his hands to answer.

'This is my room. Do you not remember last night?'

From the panicked expression on Green's face, Red assumed not. Green's hands reached to check to see if he had all his clothes on, Red couldn't help but to feel a bit insulted at the fact Green thought Red would do that to him. Red looked away with a scowl and knitted brows, making the point know that he was upset that Green thought he'd have sex with a drunk guy.Green looked around the room to confirm that this was Red's room after confirming all his clothes were on except for his sandals. Once Green spotted the bottle of water and aspirin on the bed stand, he immediately dove for it. Tossing a couple of pills into his mouth, he washed out the taste of alcohol and bad breathe down with water.

"Last thing I remember was having a good time at the tiki bar." Green admitted, then it seemed to dawn on him that he'd forgotten about Eevee. In a panic, he jumped to his feet, Red could see he immediately regretted it as a hand flew to his temple. "Eevee?!" He called out with strain, the brown fox Pokemon lifted her head from resting on Red's lap. She seemed to feel sorry enough for her trainer that she jumped down and strolled over to Green. Green crouched down, but he lost his balance and fell back into a sit. Eevee took the opportunity to jump onto his lap and bump the top of her head under his chin affectionately. Green seemed relieved by her forgiveness and Red watched with a softening gaze. However, now that Green was sober, Red needed some answers.

'Why were you drinking?'

Blunt as always but Red now held some concern for his childhood friend after last night. Green had responsibilities and he couldn't just get drunk like that. At least not alone and not telling Red so he wouldn't worry. Green hadn't even thought about Eevee and it was starting to remind Red of their Pokemon adventure all over again. Green seemed to find something interesting on the wall as he refused to meet Red's gaze, his hand absently petting Eevee. Red was about to press for answers again, but Green finally gave in.

"You damn well know why." Green groused, sounding like a sulky kid again, reluctant to admit his true feelings. Red tapped his fingers on the desk for a moment, implying he was waiting for Green to elaborate because Red wasn't going to take that as an answer. He'd been fine with Green acting like a jerk when Red had thought he was happy with life, but finding out something was wrong had put Red on edge a little. He needed to know, for his own peace of mind. "I was pissed that Eevee chose you over me, just like everyone else did!" Green shouted, getting angry at having been put on the spot. Eevee growled in annoyance at such shouting, puffing up a little. Even Pikachu who had been laying on the desk seemed to grown upset and defensive.

Even after all these years of getting everyone's admiration towards him, Green still wasn't satisfied. Green had everything except his grandfather's approval and love, that Red could understand why Green was upset over. However, Eevee had just reasons to be upset with Green and it was a shame that her trainer couldn't understand her. Red rubbed his jaw in thought, he couldn't simply tell Green that Eevee just wanted him to stop being a jerk.Green would likely just get more upset and angry at having his flaws pointed out to him. If Green thought no one would choose him for being who he really was, then that meant Green didn't remember what Red had admitted last night. If only he could get Green to look past his own insecurities to see that someone would pick Green, that someone had been there the entire time waiting.

'Battle me. Only use Eevee and I'll use Pikachu.'

[newestbalance]

Hundreds gather in Annapolis to remember shooting victims

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (Reuters) – Hundreds of people gathered on Friday evening to remember the five people gunned down at a community newspaper office in Annapolis, Maryland, one of the deadliest attacks on journalists in U.S. history.

The vigil came hours after accused gunman Jarrod Ramos was denied bail during a brief hearing in Anne Arundel County criminal court. Ramos, 38, appeared by video link from jail and did not speak during the proceedings.

More than 300 mourners, many of them carrying candles, walked slowly through the streets of Annapolis, the state capital, near the capitol dome, which was lit up, its flags flown at half staff in honor of the shooting victims.

All five of those slain worked at the Capital Gazette newspaper. Ramos is accused of opening fire on Thursday over a longstanding grudge against the paper.

He is accused of entering the Capital Gazette office, firing through a glass door with a 12-gauge shotgun, hunting for victims and spraying the newsroom with gunfire as reporters hid under desks and begged for help on social media.

Prosecutors said Ramos barricaded a back door to prevent people from fleeing.

“The fellow was there to kill as many people as he could,” Anne Arundel County Police Chief Timothy Altomare told a news conference, adding that the suspect was identified with facial-recognition technology.

Altomare said evidence found at Ramos’ home, in Laurel, Maryland, showed that he planned the attack and that the pump-action 12 gauge shotgun used was legally purchased about a year ago.

The five killed were Rob Hiaasen, 59; Wendi Winters, 65; Rebecca Smith, 34; Gerald Fischman, 61; and John McNamara. All were journalists except for Smith, who was a sales assistant, police said. Hiaasen was the brother of best-selling author Carl Hiaasen.

The Capital newspaper, part of the Gazette group, published an edition on Friday with photographs of the victims and a headline “5 shot dead at The Capital” on its front page. The editorial page was left blank but for a note saying the editors were speechless.

Photographs widely shared on social media showed staffers working on laptops in a parking garage to produce Friday’s edition while they waited to learn the fate of their colleagues.

TRUMP CALLS RAMPAGE A “DISGRACE”

Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley said he was proud of the journalists who had “soldiered on” in the face of the tragedy.

“These guys, they don’t make a lot of money. They do journalism because they love what they do. And they got a newspaper out today,” Buckley told Fox News.

U.S. President Donald Trump, who has had a combative relationship with the media since his 2016 election, was asked by reporters traveling with him on Air Force One whether he was reconsidering calling journalists “enemies of the people.”

“Obviously the press has treated me very badly, but in the meantime I’m president … I guess they didn’t treat me badly enough,” Trump said, calling the shooting rampage a “disgrace.”

Ramos in 2012 sued Eric Hartley, a columnist with Capital Gazette, and Thomas Marquardt, then its editor and publisher, court filings showed.

People take part in a candlelight vigil in downtown Annapolis to honor the five people who were killed inside the Capital Gazette newspaper the day before in Annapolis, Maryland, U.S. REUTERS/Leah Millis

A column by Hartley contended that Ramos had harassed a former high school classmate on Facebook and that he had pleaded guilty to criminal harassment, according to a legal document.

The court agreed the article was accurate and based on public records, the document showed. In 2015 Maryland’s second-highest court upheld the ruling, rejecting Ramos’ suit.

According to a WBAL-TV reporter who said she spoke with the woman who was harassed, Ramos became “fixated” with her for no apparent reason, causing her to move three times, change her name, and sleep with a gun.

Neither Hartley nor Marquardt is still employed by the paper and neither was at its offices on Thursday.

Ramos tweeted at the time of the lawsuit that he had set up a Twitter account to defend himself, and wrote in his biographical notes that he was “making corpses of corrupt careers and corporate entities.”

Phil Davis, a Capital Gazette crime reporter, recounted how he was hiding under his desk along with other newspaper employees when the shooter stopped firing, the Capital Gazette reported on its website.

The newsroom looked “like a war zone,” he told the Baltimore Sun. “I don’t know why he stopped.”

Authorities responded to the scene within a minute of the shooting, and Ramos was arrested while hiding under a desk, the shotgun on the floor nearby, police said. He will face either a preliminary court hearing or grand jury indictment within the next 30 days. Maryland does not have the death penalty.

Capital Gazette runs several newspapers out of its Annapolis office. They include one of the oldest newspapers in the United States, The Gazette, which traces its origins back to 1727.

Slideshow (26 Images)

Additional reporting by Brendan O’Brien in Milwaukee, Doina Chiacu in Washington, Gina Cherelus in New York and Dan Whitcomb in Los Angeles; Writing by Daniel Wallis and Dan Whitcomb; Editing by Jeffrey Benkoe and Leslie Adler

The post Hundreds gather in Annapolis to remember shooting victims appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2tHQrLN via Everyday News

[dragnews]

Maryland man denied bail in newsroom rampage that killed five

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (Reuters) – A Maryland man charged with rampaging through a newsroom in Annapolis with a pump-action shotgun and killing five people was denied bail on Friday after one of the deadliest attacks on journalists in U.S. history.

Jarrod Ramos, 38, from Laurel, 25 miles (40 km) west of Annapolis, is not cooperating with investigators, authorities said, and did not speak as he appeared by video link from a detention facility for a brief court hearing at Anne Arundel County criminal court.

Ramos had a longstanding grudge against the newspaper that was targeted and unsuccessfully sued it for defamation in 2012 over an article that reported how he harassed a former high school classmate, court records showed.

He is accused of entering the Capital Gazette office on Thursday afternoon and opening fire through a glass door, hunting for victims and spraying the newsroom with gunfire as reporters hid under their desks and begged for help on social media. Prosecutors said he barricaded a back door to stop people from fleeing.

“The fellow was there to kill as many people as he could,” Anne Arundel County Police Chief Timothy Altomare told a news conference, adding that the suspect was identified using facial-recognition technology.

Altomare said evidence found at the suspect’s home showed he planned the attack, and that the pump-action 12 gauge shotgun used by the shooter was legally purchased about a year ago.

Rob Hiaasen, 59, Wendi Winters, 65, Rebecca Smith, 34, Gerald Fischman, 61, and John McNamara were shot and killed. All were journalists except for Smith who was a sales assistant, police said. Hiaasen was the brother of best-selling author Carl Hiaasen.

The Capital newspaper, part of the Gazette group, published an edition on Friday with photographs of each of the victims and a headline “5 shot dead at The Capital” on its front page.

The newspaper’s editors left the editorial page blank with a note saying that they were speechless.

Photographs that were widely shared on social media showed newspaper staffers working on laptops in a parking garage to produce Friday’s edition while they waited to learn the fate of colleagues after the shooting.

‘LIKE A WAR ZONE’

Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley said he was so proud of the journalists who had “soldiered on.”

“These guys, they don’t make a lot of money. They do journalism because they love what they do. And they got a newspaper out today,” Buckley told Fox News.

A vigil for the victims was planned for 8:00 p.m. EDT on Friday. Maryland Governor Larry Hogan ordered state flags to be lowered to half-staff.

Ramos brought a defamation lawsuit in 2012 against Eric Hartley, a former staff writer and columnist with Capital Gazette, and Thomas Marquardt, then its editor and publisher, a court filing showed.

Jarrod Ramos, suspected of killing five people at the offices of the Capital Gazette newspaper office in Annapolis, Maryland, U.S., June 28, 2018 is seen in this Anne Arundel Police Department booking photo provided June 29, 2018. Anne Arundel Police/Handout via REUTERS

Neither Hartley nor Marquardt is still employed by the paper or were at its office on Thursday.

An article by Hartley had contended that Ramos had harassed a woman on Facebook and that he had pleaded guilty to criminal harassment, according to a legal document.

The court agreed the article was accurate and based on public records, the document showed. In 2015 Maryland’s second-highest court upheld the ruling, rejecting Ramos’s suit.

Ramos tweeted at the time that he had set up a Twitter account to defend himself, and wrote in his biographical notes that he was suing people in Anne Arundel County and “making corpses of corrupt careers and corporate entities.”

According to a WBAL-TV reporter who said she spoke with the woman who was harassed, Ramos became “fixated” with her for no apparent reason, causing her to move three times, change her name, and sleep with a gun.

Phil Davis, a Capital Gazette crime reporter, recounted how he was hiding under his desk along with other newspaper employees when the shooter stopped firing, the Capital Gazette reported on its website.

The newsroom looked “like a war zone,” he told the Baltimore Sun. “I don’t know why he stopped.”

Authorities responded to the scene within a minute of the shooting, and Ramos was arrested while also hiding under a desk with the shotgun on the floor nearby, police said.

Slideshow (13 Images)

He will face either a preliminary court hearing or grand jury indictment within the next 30 days.

Capital Gazette runs several newspapers out of its Annapolis office. They include one of the oldest newspapers in the United States, The Gazette, which traces its origins back to 1727.

Additional reporting by Brendan O’Brien in Milwaukee, Doina Chiacu in Washington, and Gina Cherelus in New York; Writing by Daniel Wallis; Editing by Richard Balmforth and Jeffrey Benkoe

The post Maryland man denied bail in newsroom rampage that killed five appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2tGn6kZ via Today News

[dani-qrt]

Maryland man denied bail in newsroom rampage that killed five

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (Reuters) – A Maryland man charged with rampaging through a newsroom in Annapolis with a pump-action shotgun and killing five people was denied bail on Friday after one of the deadliest attacks on journalists in U.S. history.

Jarrod Ramos, 38, from Laurel, 25 miles (40 km) west of Annapolis, is not cooperating with investigators, authorities said, and did not speak as he appeared by video link from a detention facility for a brief court hearing at Anne Arundel County criminal court.

Ramos had a longstanding grudge against the newspaper that was targeted and unsuccessfully sued it for defamation in 2012 over an article that reported how he harassed a former high school classmate, court records showed.

He is accused of entering the Capital Gazette office on Thursday afternoon and opening fire through a glass door, hunting for victims and spraying the newsroom with gunfire as reporters hid under their desks and begged for help on social media. Prosecutors said he barricaded a back door to stop people from fleeing.

“The fellow was there to kill as many people as he could,” Anne Arundel County Police Chief Timothy Altomare told a news conference, adding that the suspect was identified using facial-recognition technology.

Altomare said evidence found at the suspect’s home showed he planned the attack, and that the pump-action 12 gauge shotgun used by the shooter was legally purchased about a year ago.

Rob Hiaasen, 59, Wendi Winters, 65, Rebecca Smith, 34, Gerald Fischman, 61, and John McNamara were shot and killed. All were journalists except for Smith who was a sales assistant, police said. Hiaasen was the brother of best-selling author Carl Hiaasen.

The Capital newspaper, part of the Gazette group, published an edition on Friday with photographs of each of the victims and a headline “5 shot dead at The Capital” on its front page.

The newspaper’s editors left the editorial page blank with a note saying that they were speechless.

Photographs that were widely shared on social media showed newspaper staffers working on laptops in a parking garage to produce Friday’s edition while they waited to learn the fate of colleagues after the shooting.

‘LIKE A WAR ZONE’

Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley said he was so proud of the journalists who had “soldiered on.”

“These guys, they don’t make a lot of money. They do journalism because they love what they do. And they got a newspaper out today,” Buckley told Fox News.

A vigil for the victims was planned for 8:00 p.m. EDT on Friday. Maryland Governor Larry Hogan ordered state flags to be lowered to half-staff.

Ramos brought a defamation lawsuit in 2012 against Eric Hartley, a former staff writer and columnist with Capital Gazette, and Thomas Marquardt, then its editor and publisher, a court filing showed.

Jarrod Ramos, suspected of killing five people at the offices of the Capital Gazette newspaper office in Annapolis, Maryland, U.S., June 28, 2018 is seen in this Anne Arundel Police Department booking photo provided June 29, 2018. Anne Arundel Police/Handout via REUTERS

Neither Hartley nor Marquardt is still employed by the paper or were at its office on Thursday.

An article by Hartley had contended that Ramos had harassed a woman on Facebook and that he had pleaded guilty to criminal harassment, according to a legal document.

The court agreed the article was accurate and based on public records, the document showed. In 2015 Maryland’s second-highest court upheld the ruling, rejecting Ramos’s suit.

Ramos tweeted at the time that he had set up a Twitter account to defend himself, and wrote in his biographical notes that he was suing people in Anne Arundel County and “making corpses of corrupt careers and corporate entities.”

According to a WBAL-TV reporter who said she spoke with the woman who was harassed, Ramos became “fixated” with her for no apparent reason, causing her to move three times, change her name, and sleep with a gun.

Phil Davis, a Capital Gazette crime reporter, recounted how he was hiding under his desk along with other newspaper employees when the shooter stopped firing, the Capital Gazette reported on its website.

The newsroom looked “like a war zone,” he told the Baltimore Sun. “I don’t know why he stopped.”

Authorities responded to the scene within a minute of the shooting, and Ramos was arrested while also hiding under a desk with the shotgun on the floor nearby, police said.

Slideshow (13 Images)

He will face either a preliminary court hearing or grand jury indictment within the next 30 days.

Capital Gazette runs several newspapers out of its Annapolis office. They include one of the oldest newspapers in the United States, The Gazette, which traces its origins back to 1727.

Additional reporting by Brendan O’Brien in Milwaukee, Doina Chiacu in Washington, and Gina Cherelus in New York; Writing by Daniel Wallis; Editing by Richard Balmforth and Jeffrey Benkoe

The post Maryland man denied bail in newsroom rampage that killed five appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2tGn6kZ via Online News

[party-hard-or-die]

Maryland man denied bail in newsroom rampage that killed five

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (Reuters) – A Maryland man charged with rampaging through a newsroom in Annapolis with a pump-action shotgun and killing five people was denied bail on Friday after one of the deadliest attacks on journalists in U.S. history.

Jarrod Ramos, 38, from Laurel, 25 miles (40 km) west of Annapolis, is not cooperating with investigators, authorities said, and did not speak as he appeared by video link from a detention facility for a brief court hearing at Anne Arundel County criminal court.

Ramos had a longstanding grudge against the newspaper that was targeted and unsuccessfully sued it for defamation in 2012 over an article that reported how he harassed a former high school classmate, court records showed.

He is accused of entering the Capital Gazette office on Thursday afternoon and opening fire through a glass door, hunting for victims and spraying the newsroom with gunfire as reporters hid under their desks and begged for help on social media. Prosecutors said he barricaded a back door to stop people from fleeing.

“The fellow was there to kill as many people as he could,” Anne Arundel County Police Chief Timothy Altomare told a news conference, adding that the suspect was identified using facial-recognition technology.

Altomare said evidence found at the suspect’s home showed he planned the attack, and that the pump-action 12 gauge shotgun used by the shooter was legally purchased about a year ago.

Rob Hiaasen, 59, Wendi Winters, 65, Rebecca Smith, 34, Gerald Fischman, 61, and John McNamara were shot and killed. All were journalists except for Smith who was a sales assistant, police said. Hiaasen was the brother of best-selling author Carl Hiaasen.

The Capital newspaper, part of the Gazette group, published an edition on Friday with photographs of each of the victims and a headline “5 shot dead at The Capital” on its front page.

The newspaper’s editors left the editorial page blank with a note saying that they were speechless.

Photographs that were widely shared on social media showed newspaper staffers working on laptops in a parking garage to produce Friday’s edition while they waited to learn the fate of colleagues after the shooting.

‘LIKE A WAR ZONE’

Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley said he was so proud of the journalists who had “soldiered on.”

“These guys, they don’t make a lot of money. They do journalism because they love what they do. And they got a newspaper out today,” Buckley told Fox News.

A vigil for the victims was planned for 8:00 p.m. EDT on Friday. Maryland Governor Larry Hogan ordered state flags to be lowered to half-staff.

Ramos brought a defamation lawsuit in 2012 against Eric Hartley, a former staff writer and columnist with Capital Gazette, and Thomas Marquardt, then its editor and publisher, a court filing showed.

Jarrod Ramos, suspected of killing five people at the offices of the Capital Gazette newspaper office in Annapolis, Maryland, U.S., June 28, 2018 is seen in this Anne Arundel Police Department booking photo provided June 29, 2018. Anne Arundel Police/Handout via REUTERS

Neither Hartley nor Marquardt is still employed by the paper or were at its office on Thursday.

An article by Hartley had contended that Ramos had harassed a woman on Facebook and that he had pleaded guilty to criminal harassment, according to a legal document.

The court agreed the article was accurate and based on public records, the document showed. In 2015 Maryland’s second-highest court upheld the ruling, rejecting Ramos’s suit.

Ramos tweeted at the time that he had set up a Twitter account to defend himself, and wrote in his biographical notes that he was suing people in Anne Arundel County and “making corpses of corrupt careers and corporate entities.”

According to a WBAL-TV reporter who said she spoke with the woman who was harassed, Ramos became “fixated” with her for no apparent reason, causing her to move three times, change her name, and sleep with a gun.

Phil Davis, a Capital Gazette crime reporter, recounted how he was hiding under his desk along with other newspaper employees when the shooter stopped firing, the Capital Gazette reported on its website.

The newsroom looked “like a war zone,” he told the Baltimore Sun. “I don’t know why he stopped.”

Authorities responded to the scene within a minute of the shooting, and Ramos was arrested while also hiding under a desk with the shotgun on the floor nearby, police said.

Slideshow (13 Images)

He will face either a preliminary court hearing or grand jury indictment within the next 30 days.

Capital Gazette runs several newspapers out of its Annapolis office. They include one of the oldest newspapers in the United States, The Gazette, which traces its origins back to 1727.

Additional reporting by Brendan O’Brien in Milwaukee, Doina Chiacu in Washington, and Gina Cherelus in New York; Writing by Daniel Wallis; Editing by Richard Balmforth and Jeffrey Benkoe

The post Maryland man denied bail in newsroom rampage that killed five appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2tGn6kZ via Breaking News

[party-hard-or-die]

Suspect charged with five murders in shotgun attack on Maryland…

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (Reuters) – A Maryland man was charged with multiple counts of murder on Friday, a day after police say he rampaged through a newsroom in Annapolis with a shotgun and killed five people in one of the deadliest attacks on journalists in U.S. history.

Police identified the suspect as Jarrod Ramos, 38, from Laurel, 25 miles (40 km) west of Annapolis. He faces five counts of first degree murder in Anne Arundel County criminal court where a bail hearing was scheduled for 10:30 a.m. EDT (1430 GMT) on Friday.

Ramos had a longstanding grudge against the newspaper and unsuccessfully sued it for defamation in 2012 over an article that reported how he harassed a former high school classmate, court records showed.

He is accused of entering the Capital Gazette office on Thursday afternoon and opening fire through a glass door, hunting for victims and spraying the newsroom with gunfire as reporters hid under their desks and begged for help on social media, police and witnesses said.

Rob Hiaasen, 59, Wendi Winters, 65, Rebecca Smith, 34, Gerald Fischman, 61, and John McNamara were shot and killed. All were journalists except for Smith who was a sales assistant, police said.

The Capital newspaper, part of the Gazette group, published an edition on Friday with photographs of each of the victims and a headline “5 shot dead at The Capital” on its front page.

The newspaper’s editors left the editorial page blank with a note saying that they were speechless.

Photographs that were widely shared on social media showed newspaper staffers working on laptops in a parking garage to produce Friday’s edition while they waited to learn the fate of colleagues after the shooting.

‘LIKE A WAR ZONE’

Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley said he was so proud of the journalists who had “soldiered on.”

“These guys, they don’t make a lot of money. They do journalism because they love what they do. And they got a newspaper out today,” Buckley told Fox News.

A vigil for the victims was planned for 8:00 p.m. EDT on Friday, Annapolis city officials said on Twitter.

Ramos brought a defamation lawsuit in 2012 against Eric Hartley, a former staff writer and columnist with Capital Gazette, and Thomas Marquardt, then its editor and publisher, a court filing showed.

Neither Hartley nor Marquardt is still employed by the paper or were at its office on Thursday.

An article by Hartley had contended that Ramos had harassed a woman on Facebook and that he had pleaded guilty to criminal harassment, according to a legal document.

Slideshow (14 Images)

The court agreed the article was accurate and based on public records, the document showed. In 2015 Maryland’s second-highest court upheld the ruling, rejecting Ramos’s suit.

Ramos tweeted at the time that he had set up a Twitter account to defend himself, and wrote in his biographical notes that he was suing people in Anne Arundel County and “making corpses of corrupt careers and corporate entities.”

According to a WBAL-TV reporter who said she spoke with the woman who was harassed, Ramos became “fixated” with her for no apparent reason, causing her to move three times, change her name, and sleep with a gun.

Phil Davis, a Capital Gazette crime reporter, recounted how he was hiding under his desk along with other newspaper employees when the shooter stopped firing, the Capital Gazette reported on its website.

The newsroom looked “like a war zone,” he told the Baltimore Sun. “I don’t know why he stopped.”

“As much as I’m going to try to articulate how traumatizing it is to be hiding under your desk, you don’t know until you’re there and you feel helpless,” Davis said.

Authorities responded to the scene within a minute of the shooting, and Ramos was arrested while also hiding under a desk with the shotgun on the floor nearby, police said.

After the shooting, police in Baltimore and New York City deployed extra officers outside major media outlets as a precaution.

Capital Gazette runs several newspapers out of its Annapolis office. They include one of the oldest newspapers in the United States, The Gazette, which traces its origins back to 1727.

The newspapers published by the company, part of the Tronc Inc (TRNC.O) media group, have focused on local news in the shadows of two much larger competitors, the Washington Post and Baltimore Sun.

Additional reporting by Brendan O’Brien in Milwaukee, Doina Chiacu in Washington, and Gina Cherelus in New York; Editing by Richard Balmforth and Jeffrey Benkoe

The post Suspect charged with five murders in shotgun attack on Maryland… appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2yX7u1E via Breaking News

[dani-qrt]

Suspect charged with five murders in shotgun attack on Maryland…

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (Reuters) – A Maryland man was charged with multiple counts of murder on Friday, a day after police say he rampaged through a newsroom in Annapolis with a shotgun and killed five people in one of the deadliest attacks on journalists in U.S. history.

Police identified the suspect as Jarrod Ramos, 38, from Laurel, 25 miles (40 km) west of Annapolis. He faces five counts of first degree murder in Anne Arundel County criminal court where a bail hearing was scheduled for 10:30 a.m. EDT (1430 GMT) on Friday.

Ramos had a longstanding grudge against the newspaper and unsuccessfully sued it for defamation in 2012 over an article that reported how he harassed a former high school classmate, court records showed.

He is accused of entering the Capital Gazette office on Thursday afternoon and opening fire through a glass door, hunting for victims and spraying the newsroom with gunfire as reporters hid under their desks and begged for help on social media, police and witnesses said.

Rob Hiaasen, 59, Wendi Winters, 65, Rebecca Smith, 34, Gerald Fischman, 61, and John McNamara were shot and killed. All were journalists except for Smith who was a sales assistant, police said.

The Capital newspaper, part of the Gazette group, published an edition on Friday with photographs of each of the victims and a headline “5 shot dead at The Capital” on its front page.

The newspaper’s editors left the editorial page blank with a note saying that they were speechless.

Photographs that were widely shared on social media showed newspaper staffers working on laptops in a parking garage to produce Friday’s edition while they waited to learn the fate of colleagues after the shooting.

‘LIKE A WAR ZONE’

Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley said he was so proud of the journalists who had “soldiered on.”

“These guys, they don’t make a lot of money. They do journalism because they love what they do. And they got a newspaper out today,” Buckley told Fox News.

A vigil for the victims was planned for 8:00 p.m. EDT on Friday, Annapolis city officials said on Twitter.

Ramos brought a defamation lawsuit in 2012 against Eric Hartley, a former staff writer and columnist with Capital Gazette, and Thomas Marquardt, then its editor and publisher, a court filing showed.

Neither Hartley nor Marquardt is still employed by the paper or were at its office on Thursday.

An article by Hartley had contended that Ramos had harassed a woman on Facebook and that he had pleaded guilty to criminal harassment, according to a legal document.

Slideshow (14 Images)

The court agreed the article was accurate and based on public records, the document showed. In 2015 Maryland’s second-highest court upheld the ruling, rejecting Ramos’s suit.

Ramos tweeted at the time that he had set up a Twitter account to defend himself, and wrote in his biographical notes that he was suing people in Anne Arundel County and “making corpses of corrupt careers and corporate entities.”

According to a WBAL-TV reporter who said she spoke with the woman who was harassed, Ramos became “fixated” with her for no apparent reason, causing her to move three times, change her name, and sleep with a gun.

Phil Davis, a Capital Gazette crime reporter, recounted how he was hiding under his desk along with other newspaper employees when the shooter stopped firing, the Capital Gazette reported on its website.

The newsroom looked “like a war zone,” he told the Baltimore Sun. “I don’t know why he stopped.”

“As much as I’m going to try to articulate how traumatizing it is to be hiding under your desk, you don’t know until you’re there and you feel helpless,” Davis said.

Authorities responded to the scene within a minute of the shooting, and Ramos was arrested while also hiding under a desk with the shotgun on the floor nearby, police said.

After the shooting, police in Baltimore and New York City deployed extra officers outside major media outlets as a precaution.

Capital Gazette runs several newspapers out of its Annapolis office. They include one of the oldest newspapers in the United States, The Gazette, which traces its origins back to 1727.

The newspapers published by the company, part of the Tronc Inc (TRNC.O) media group, have focused on local news in the shadows of two much larger competitors, the Washington Post and Baltimore Sun.

Additional reporting by Brendan O’Brien in Milwaukee, Doina Chiacu in Washington, and Gina Cherelus in New York; Editing by Richard Balmforth and Jeffrey Benkoe

The post Suspect charged with five murders in shotgun attack on Maryland… appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2yX7u1E via Online News

[newestbalance]

Suspect charged with five murders in shotgun attack on Maryland…

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (Reuters) – A Maryland man was charged with multiple counts of murder on Friday, a day after police say he rampaged through a newsroom in Annapolis with a shotgun and killed five people in one of the deadliest attacks on journalists in U.S. history.

Police identified the suspect as Jarrod Ramos, 38, from Laurel, 25 miles (40 km) west of Annapolis. He faces five counts of first degree murder in Anne Arundel County criminal court where a bail hearing was scheduled for 10:30 a.m. EDT (1430 GMT) on Friday.

Ramos had a longstanding grudge against the newspaper and unsuccessfully sued it for defamation in 2012 over an article that reported how he harassed a former high school classmate, court records showed.

He is accused of entering the Capital Gazette office on Thursday afternoon and opening fire through a glass door, hunting for victims and spraying the newsroom with gunfire as reporters hid under their desks and begged for help on social media, police and witnesses said.

Rob Hiaasen, 59, Wendi Winters, 65, Rebecca Smith, 34, Gerald Fischman, 61, and John McNamara were shot and killed. All were journalists except for Smith who was a sales assistant, police said.

The Capital newspaper, part of the Gazette group, published an edition on Friday with photographs of each of the victims and a headline “5 shot dead at The Capital” on its front page.

The newspaper’s editors left the editorial page blank with a note saying that they were speechless.

Photographs that were widely shared on social media showed newspaper staffers working on laptops in a parking garage to produce Friday’s edition while they waited to learn the fate of colleagues after the shooting.

‘LIKE A WAR ZONE’

Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley said he was so proud of the journalists who had “soldiered on.”

“These guys, they don’t make a lot of money. They do journalism because they love what they do. And they got a newspaper out today,” Buckley told Fox News.

A vigil for the victims was planned for 8:00 p.m. EDT on Friday, Annapolis city officials said on Twitter.

Ramos brought a defamation lawsuit in 2012 against Eric Hartley, a former staff writer and columnist with Capital Gazette, and Thomas Marquardt, then its editor and publisher, a court filing showed.

Neither Hartley nor Marquardt is still employed by the paper or were at its office on Thursday.

An article by Hartley had contended that Ramos had harassed a woman on Facebook and that he had pleaded guilty to criminal harassment, according to a legal document.

Slideshow (14 Images)

The court agreed the article was accurate and based on public records, the document showed. In 2015 Maryland’s second-highest court upheld the ruling, rejecting Ramos’s suit.

Ramos tweeted at the time that he had set up a Twitter account to defend himself, and wrote in his biographical notes that he was suing people in Anne Arundel County and “making corpses of corrupt careers and corporate entities.”

According to a WBAL-TV reporter who said she spoke with the woman who was harassed, Ramos became “fixated” with her for no apparent reason, causing her to move three times, change her name, and sleep with a gun.

Phil Davis, a Capital Gazette crime reporter, recounted how he was hiding under his desk along with other newspaper employees when the shooter stopped firing, the Capital Gazette reported on its website.

The newsroom looked “like a war zone,” he told the Baltimore Sun. “I don’t know why he stopped.”

“As much as I’m going to try to articulate how traumatizing it is to be hiding under your desk, you don’t know until you’re there and you feel helpless,” Davis said.

Authorities responded to the scene within a minute of the shooting, and Ramos was arrested while also hiding under a desk with the shotgun on the floor nearby, police said.

After the shooting, police in Baltimore and New York City deployed extra officers outside major media outlets as a precaution.

Capital Gazette runs several newspapers out of its Annapolis office. They include one of the oldest newspapers in the United States, The Gazette, which traces its origins back to 1727.

The newspapers published by the company, part of the Tronc Inc (TRNC.O) media group, have focused on local news in the shadows of two much larger competitors, the Washington Post and Baltimore Sun.

Additional reporting by Brendan O’Brien in Milwaukee, Doina Chiacu in Washington, and Gina Cherelus in New York; Editing by Richard Balmforth and Jeffrey Benkoe

The post Suspect charged with five murders in shotgun attack on Maryland… appeared first on World The News.

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