Continued from yesterday...

I've been jumping all over the place in this story, updating it to fit the new parameters, but this will be pretty much the same, now.

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Walstead saw Simon and beckoned him over, saying, “Simon, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Aristian.” The tone of his voice was far too deliberately cheerful in its casual dismissal of manners.

Simon focused on him and softly said, “Since you insist on referring to me by my first name, shall I refer to you by yours? Do you prefer Charles or Dillon?” 

Walstead’s fake expression of camaraderie froze. 

Manville huffed and said, “I think your manners are...” 

Simon cut her off by simply turning to the man and saying, “I am Mr. Halloran, Dr. Aristian. I understand you’ll be doing a physical examination on me.” 

Walstead jumped in to say, “Just a visual. A look to verify your claim. That’s all.” 

Simon hated games like this, obvious and childish. But since they insisted...he said, “I’m exposing myself to a physician I’ve just met, so that is a serious consideration...” 

“Mr. Halloran,” Aristian said, quickly. “I’m a PhD, not a physician.” 

Simon eyed him and asked, still in a very soft voice, “Do you have any medical training?” 

He shook his head and shrugged. “Rudimentary things. CPR. Immediate aid.” 

Simon’s heart beat faster as his breath grew shallow. He cast a cool glare at Walstead abut his voice remained calm when he asked, “Is this a joke? Are you mocking me?” 

“I never said he was a physician.” Spoken in that same vile overly-sincere tone that was close to condescending. “Did you really think I could get hold of a medical professional this fast?” 

Manville broke in, fighting a smirk as she said, “Simon, it doesn’t matter who does the...” 

This time, Simon raised his hand to cut her off. “You will address me as Mister Halloran or you and I will have no further communication.” 

She drew in a hissing breath, ready for battle, but Walstead stepped between them to say, “Your choice is simple, Mister Halloran. Dr. Aristian takes a look at this tattoo and describes it into the record, and we continue on. Or we get a continuance and have a physician contracted to do the exam, which you would be liable to pay for. Choice is yours.” 

Simon almost sighed. “I’m not the one demanding this.” 

“Those are your choices. Which one is it?” 

“You know what my choice is.” 

Walstead’s voice and manner were growing tight and ready for a fight. “Not acceptable. The judge has said so.” 

Deep within, Simon was so angry at this casual abuse he had to close his eyes and step back. It was like that day Alain had found him in the book shop, and had tried to act like they were old friends while suggesting Simon was a bad person for vanishing on him. 

Vanishing. All he'd done is cut off contact. What did they call that, now? Ghosting? 

He was also upset that ReShawn wasn’t here to do battle against this blatant attack on common decency. He’d have known the legal precedents to push Walstead back. 

“So which is it, Simon? Courtroom’s open, now, so...” 

Simon. 

From Manville’s voice. 

She had deliberately called him Simon. In direct violation of simple manners. The little bitch. 

Simon opened his eyes and saw a smug expression on her face, so said nothing. No words came to mind, so no need to fight back any explosion. He simply walked around them all to enter the courtroom. 

In silence.