not gonna stop (till i get what's mine)

by sparkymouse

Summary:

When Elizabeth Devine is eight years old she sees Legally Blonde for the first time.
Nigel Uno has been fighting for kids since he was one, never having any stomach for disrespecting and tyrannical adults.
OR; the courtroom!nizzie au!

Chapter 1: you’ve got guts (but now they’re spilled)

Notes:

work title from "watch me shine" by joanna pacitti (from the legally blonde movie soundtrack)
chapter title from "blood in the water" from the legally blonde musical
for dg+xela <3
they're roughly 27 in this

When Elizabeth Devine is eight years old she sees Legally Blonde for the first time, and determines she would rather be a lawyer than in real estate. Watching Elle Woods shake up a courtroom with her unique knowledge and spunk is inspiring to her, her fashion sense equally so.

She decides early that it’s okay if she doesn’t have time for friends, if people find her weird, she’s determined to be a successful lawyer, her name known throughout courtrooms in all of Virginia. She doesn’t have the time to worry anyway.

She manages a few friendships over the years, mostly with girls who see her vision and encourage it. They wish they could be Elle Woods, too, but she’s one in a million. How could they compare?

“So are you,” Elizabeth tells them. “So am I.”

As the years go on, as her parents’ ignoring her turns into them refusing to pay for law school after college, they claim that she needs to give up on her dream, that she’s not suited for courtrooms. What about real estate, didn’t she used to love that, too?

Elizabeth knuckles down, if they wouldn’t pay she would find a way to. If Emmett from Legally Blonde could do it, then so could she. Elizabeth didn’t need her parents to tell her she could do anything she put her mind to, her own history was proof enough.

She makes it through, working her butt off between two jobs and the endless readings for her classes, and when she has free time to think about what she wants to specialize in, she knows it has to be related to children. That if she can protect even one little one from what she’s been through (or worse) she’ll do it in a heartbeat.

After graduation she gets accepted at a firm full of people with this same goal in mind, and she knows they’re eyeing her for partner when she’s only twenty-seven.

Her name is whispered across courtrooms all over the district, stretching out into Virginia proper like roots of a tree. It’s everything she has ever wanted.

And it is so, so lonely. Her determination had her leaving anyone that wanted to form a friendship in the dust, any potential romantic partner left to wonder if she only loved her work. She’s been so focused on one aspect of her hopes for her future that she forgot about the other.

And then, he walks through the door.

---

Nigel Uno has been fighting for kids since he was one, never having any stomach for disrespecting and tyrannical adults. Part of it was a game he and his friends liked to play, some of the neighborhood adults even humored them by pretending to be “villains” for the kids to fight.

Another part was seeing who his adoptive cousins became under his uncle’s thumb, and when they moved in with his family in high school because the system finally caught on to Uncle Benedict, Nigel decides he never wants to see that happen to another child again.

The only thing he has to decide is how.

He can become a cop, but then he’ll have to handle adults just as equally, and it’s not that he can’t, but rather that he’d like to focus on children themselves.

Some type of lawyer, perhaps? But he also doesn’t care too much for the books and the courtroom. He’s a man of action, he needs his boots on the ground, moving to actually do something.

An agent, then. But for who? The large, three-lettered organizations also don’t typically work with children, just the ones that come across their desks.

No, Nigel needs to be an agent for something that’s geared towards kids and them alone.

Then, the woman from Child Protective Services, the same one that put his cousins in his parents’ care, comes to visit them before graduation. Not in an official check-up capacity, but personally. They’re an important case to her, and she’s proud to see how well they're flourishing away from their abusive father.

Before she leaves he speaks with her a bit about what she does, specifically, what it would take to become like her. She smiles, “Are you interested in protecting children, Mr. Uno?”

“More than anything,” he replies, body taut and at attention.

Her grin grows, like she finds him silly but fascinating. “Then that’s a good start.” She leaves him with her card, asking him to set an appointment with her secretary, and they can discuss his path then.

Constance, her dark hair in spiky pigtails sticking out from the sides of her head, is nearby for the exchange, and she slaps his shoulder jovially as he passes on his way to his room. He’s actually quite enjoyed watching his cousins become their own people in the last few years. “Alright, Cuz! Making dreams come true! Aunt and Uncle are gonna be proud!” Her grin is genuine, and he smiles back.

“I can only hope.”

He pulls himself through every hoop they throw at him, schooling, internships, every hard knock of the reality of what he’s doing, every little face he looks at and knows he needs to help. The families that are torn apart by his own fingertips because he must think of the children first, no matter how hard the parents are trying.

When it comes to the last one, he vows that after getting his own place in the system that he will not do it ever again. He’ll do what he can to keep them together. Not everyone is as well off as he and his family, as the people he grew up around, and working for CPS is the reality check he’d always needed.

He settles into a good job in Virginia by the time he’s twenty-two, and works himself through school for his Masters. He completes it in two years, despite the odds being stacked against him as a part-time student, and finishes working off his promised years for his first employer by twenty-five.

He gets himself into the big leagues after that, interviewing for several more dedicated systems within Fairfax, and he’s practically guaranteed to be a Senior Specialist by the time he’s thirty.

He’s only been in Fairfax a few weeks when he starts hearing about Elizabeth Devine. A family lawyer who specializes in children’s cases, and often takes on the lion’s share of the ones that filter through the court system.

He sees her there from time to time, auburn hair in a secure bun, a steely look in her eyes, and whether her suit is complimented with a skirt or slacks, she always looks like she dressed herself for war.

He’s smitten with her from afar, but he dares not get too close. He doesn’t have the time for a relationship anyway.

---

Elizabeth Devine did not become one of the best in family law by kowtowing to any person willing to hand over as much money as she asks. Her reputation doesn’t come from the how or the why of her winning her cases either.

No, Elizabeth Devine is known for the types of cases she wins. Whether it is the husband or the wife in a messy divorce, a custody case involving godparents and grandparents, Elizabeth wins because she chooses the client who’s in the right.

She chooses the client who wins, who only wants what’s best for their children. Elizabeth Devine wins because her case isn’t about the client she represents, but rather the children involved.

Growing up invisible to her parents had left her with a bit of a chip on her shoulder, and she channels that into every case she fights. She refuses to take on a client without consulting Child Protective Services first, without having a monitored interview with the child themself to see how they’re handling things at home.

She’s familiar with CPS, and so, from afar, she’s familiar with their agent Nigel Uno. Shaven head, a proclivity for sunglasses indoors, and a knack for looking like a federal agent no matter the time or place. He’s lucky he pulls it off, looking more James Bond than Elliot Stabler. He’s never been an agent on one of her cases before, specializing in abusive and neglectful cases rather than messy divorces.

Then, he walks into her office one Thursday afternoon, steps purposeful, and stands behind the chair on the other side of her desk. “May I help you?” She asks, not looking up from her papers.

He clears his throat, adjusts his tie. “I think I have a case you’d be perfect for.”

She raises her eyes to him then, gaze sharp but not accusatory. “Sit, Uno.” He does, laying the folder he’s brought with him equidistant between them. “Talk.”

He explains a bit about the case as she flips through the folder. A young boy, maybe five at most, smiles up at her from a school photo. Documents about his parents’ divorce as well, handled by completely different law firms. Just scanning the contents she can tell that the mother, armed with better lawyers and the typical assumption of judges that mothers were the better parent, should not have been the one to win the court case.

“We have proven evidence that she’s been neglecting him severely. Starvation, depriving him of sunlight. Physical abuse is also highly probable.”

“Even just scanning this paper trail I can tell you he would’ve been better off with the father. A smaller income, sure, but proven bills paid on time, never missed a child support payment, testimonies from friends of the couple. This must have been heartbreaking.”

Uno shrugs at her from across her desk. “You can’t fight them all before they get to me, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately,” she agrees, scowling at the file in her hands. She sighs, closing it and dropping it back to her desk. “You have a case against the mother. Are you asking me to represent the father?”

He grins, and if Elizabeth were someone else she’d call it heart-melting. “Precisely. I knew I’d found the right woman for the job.” He stands from his seat, buttoning his jacket, and she matches him, sliding the file across to him.

He waves her off, and she brings it back to her side. “What, did you already make a copy?”

“Miss Devine, you’ll find even my copies have copies.”

Fine. Something about him is intriguing, he’s handsome, and despite the shades indoors she feels the way he stares at her. Something scorches down her spine along with his gaze. “All right, Uno.” She’s yet to verbally agree to the case. “My usual procedure stands. I’d also like to have a conversation with the father before I agree to represent him.”

“I’ll get you all of the info you’ll need,” he agrees easily, nearly smiling at her.

“On my desk by tonight would be best.”

“Actually,” and he pauses, like he’s truly considering his words. “How would you like to discuss it over dinner tomorrow night?”

Elizabeth chokes back her cough of surprise. Like a date? Truthfully, she’s never really been on a date. “Is this a date?”

Nigel Uno tilts his head at her, a question. “Would you like it to be?”

“I asked first.” She ignores the urge to cross her arms over her chest, defensive.

“What are we, eight?” He pinches his nose and sighs, like she’s giving him a headache. “Yes, Elizabeth. I’m asking you on a date.”

“This feels highly unprofessional,” she argues, wary, nerves creeping up her spine.

A smirk takes over his face that she’s sure she will want to see more of. “Good thing we have a professional excuse.”

“Nigel Uno,” she says, grinning slyly. “I would be honored.” She points out her office door. “You can get my numbers from Grace at the desk. I’ll text you my address.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Don’t even think of being a single second late.”

“I’ll be early, then.”

He dips into a slight bow and makes his way out the door.

Elizabeth falls back in her chair and blows her bangs out of her face as she sighs. She presses the button that connects her phone to her secretary once she believes enough time has passed for Nigel to have gathered her card and left. “Grace?”

“Yes, Miss Devine?”

“Reschedule any meetings I have tomorrow night, I don’t particularly care for when. I’ll be busy.”

“Yes, Miss Devine.”

Elizabeth rests her head on her desk. I am so screwed.

Notes:

it's a perfect day to post the first installment of the nizzie au. lemme know if you wanna read their date!
if you saw errors w the tenses no you did nawt!
lizzie graduated from law school @ 25 so she's been working for the firm a couple years at the time they're eyeing her for partner.

Chapter 2: if there ever was a perfect couple (this one qualifies)

Summary:

Nigel and Lizzie's first fight (involving a case. We all know they've been fighting over nothing since their first date.)

Notes:

title from "ohmigod you guys" from the legally blonde musical
thanks to DG for their beta-ing prowess and also, blowing up my dms with gushing praise, without them i'd reconsider ever posting again. give them a thank you by reading their stuff @airauralintesity (i gifted operation c.o.d.a to them if you need help getting to their acct!!)
also can i just say that lawyer au is SUCH a breath of fresh air to write between codas? it was keeping me SANE while caked two swirled in circles in my head.
oh yeah if you love this, check out my other nizzie fic, operation coda. i write codas for episodes that either had lizzie in them or could've/should've.
and @ the ppl who know abt teen au. i'm workshopping it. teen au isn't dead until i am.

Elizabeth Devine storms through the door of their shared apartment in a huff, dropping her keys in the dish by the door before heading straight for her office, not even greeting her boyfriend on the couch in the living room as she passes through.

Nigel Uno raises his head from his book, a brow quirking up on his face as he takes in her entrance. Lizzie had a flair for the dramatic even on her best days, and today was clearly not one of those.

He sighs a bit to himself and slides in a bookmark to save his place, putting the book on the end table by the couch and getting to his feet.

He takes his time making his way to her, stretching as he goes. It wasn’t like she was only going to get angrier the longer he took to check on her…right?

Nigel speed walks into their shared office after that thought, poking his head around the door before fully walking in. “Welcome home, dear. How was work?”

Lizzie lifts her head from where she’s rooting through her briefcase to glare at him. “Difficult.” She seethes, then returns to angrily sorting through papers.

If this were a cartoon, Nigel would be gulping nervously, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing, and pulling at the neck of his sweater. As it is, he simply swallows and approaches, despite all the tiny hairs rising on the back of his neck.

He carefully steps towards her, like trying to help a wounded and cornered animal. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She pulls a paper from her briefcase and victoriously waves it in the air. “What is the meaning of this?” She raises her voice and juts the paper out to him before he can get much closer.

His brows fold in on themselves in confusion as he takes it, eyes skimming over the form.

Oh.

He hadn’t known for sure that one of the more recent parent interviews he’d conducted had been connected to one of her divorce cases, but he’d had a hunch. When his interview resulted in finding the mother unsuitable he’d thought surely she represented the father.

His assumptions must have been wrong in one way or another.

As he skims over the copy of his interview notes he pays attention to the highlighted segments.

Mrs. Combs shows increasing signs of distress at mentions of child in question.

Mrs. Combs verbally threatens harm towards ex-husband in defense of child in question.

And then, in all caps at the bottom, underlined in red,

Mrs. Combs’ unstable condition makes for an unsuitable guardian to the child in question. Suggestion to make the child a ward of the state and put in foster care.

Lizzie hates when any of the children she protects end up in the foster system. But just looking at her proves this is more than that.

His Lizzie, headstrong and bold, leans slumped against her office chair, hands over her face, the picture of defeat. He’s never seen her like this once in the three years they’ve been together, on top of the years he’s admired her from afar in the courtroom.

He walks over and lays the paper down with the others, then puts his hands on her shoulders. “What’s the matter, Lizzie?”

She lifts her face to him, angry tears streaming down her cheeks as she glares at him. “Do you know why Natalia responded the way she did to your questioning?” She burst out, as if he hadn’t spoken. “You cornered her! You jumped to your conclusions as you always do! You read “recently out of rehab” and decided before she even said anything that she was unfit!”

“Relapse is common, especially following emotional-“

“Stop talking!” She screams, pushing away from him and stalking out of the office. He’s on her heels following her to the bedroom. “It isn’t like that. She was going to come home from rehab and turn their lives around! And then she learned that Maxwell was beating their son while she was getting sober!”

Lizzie turns on him, fire in her eyes, and Nigel knows that a normal person would not be happy for their partner to be screaming, but this is Lizzie. She gives as good as she gets. A shiver rolls down his spine as he meets her glare.

“She filed for divorce! She sought my help directly! She’s trying to get away from him!” Lizzie’s voice fills with hurt as she turns away again, continuing the path to their room. “I haven’t lost a case like this before, and I will not start now because my boyfriend is a paranoid that reads too far into everything.”

She huffs out a breath and disappears into the walk-in closet, slamming the doors behind her.

Nigel settles himself on the end of the bed, rolling the facts over in his head.

For starters, they have an overlapping case, something they’ve done a good job of avoiding since they started dating. Usually when he gets one of her clients across his desk, he transfers it and states there’s a conflict of interest.

There’s the fact she hadn’t confirmed that he hadn’t gotten involved in this one, and he hadn’t confirmed it as one of her cases. For some reason they were getting sloppy in that area, and it wasn’t doing wonders for their relationship. Clearly.

Natalia Combs was an addict at risk of relapse, and the only suitable parental guardian for Cory Combs, if Maxwell Combs truly was guilty of abuse.

Lizzie felt a personal attachment to this case, the way she gets with other neglectful cases from time to time. He knows her relationship with her parents is non-existent, that growing up she had been ignored by them. But this felt personal in a different way. Like she had failed before and refused to fail again.

She hadn’t lost a case like this before, but she had lost cases. Not many, he knows, and they were early in her career, when she was still making a name for herself and getting used to being head counsel in a case.

Maybe something to do with her little brother? Eddie was five years younger, the baby of the family, and while it wasn’t his fault, the reason Lizzie grew up feeling tossed aside and unwanted by their parents. She and Eddie had reconciled this only within the last few years or so.

Did Cory Combs remind her of Eddie? Maxwell of their parents?

Nigel grits his teeth, seeing the pieces come together in his head.

Lizzie chooses then to emerge from the closet, changed for bed. “You’re making that face again.” She says softly, coming to sit down beside him. She’s pulled herself together.

He turns his face to her, morphing into a half-smile as he takes her hand in his. “Which one?”

She furrows her brows at him, irritated. “The one you make when you’re staring at a conspiracy board and you’re trying to make it fit together.” She gently pokes the center of his forehead. “What’re you thinking?”

He shakes his head and resumes looking at his lap. “Just trying to figure out why this is so personal to you.”

She rears back as if he’d struck her. “It’s not,” she insists, standing up and pacing away from him.

Nigel shakes his head and goes after her again. Thus was the way of their relationship, it seemed, always going after her. “You don’t have to lie to me about it,” he says, trying to be comforting and assuring without snapping at her. He hates when she doesn’t open up to him. How many times does he-

“I’m not lying.” She snaps instead, turning on him and fuming all over again. “I’m furious with you.” Furious and defensive, he notes, as Lizzie pulls back into herself, crossing her arms over her chest. “How can you just write her off like that? She’s trying, Nigel.”

Ah, yes. Definitely more personal than she’s willing to open up about, then. He thinks, face softening at her as it always tends to. It intrigues him, the way they only seem to truly let their guards down with one another, despite it all.

He approaches her slowly again, hands stretched out, he carefully places them on her shoulders and pulls her in, trying to comfort her. “You’re right. Since when do I care about following protocol?”

She huffs out a sound between a whimper and a sigh, “Such a rebellious soldier.”

He grins, knowing she’s been comforted to an extent. “I suppose I can ask for a follow-up of sorts. Mention that I didn’t think I got a good enough read on the situation the first time.”

She buries her face in his chest, embracing him tightly. She mumbles something against him he can’t hear, and he tips his head closer to her to hear better. “Repeat that, love,” he says softly, “I missed it.”

“Thank you, Nigey,” she says, pulling away from him enough to whisper it in his ear.

“You’ll knock ‘em dead like always, Lizzie. With or without my help.”

She pulls away from him further, smiles dazzlingly directly into his face, hope and strength restored as simply as that. “Don’t I always?”

The smile that takes over his face is one he’s never felt around anyone but her. He doesn’t want anyone else to bring it out of him, ever. “Yes, you do.”

They stay like that for a moment, and Nigel decides now is as good as ever. The box has been sitting in his drawer for over a month, waiting impatiently for him to do what needs to be done.

He would make for a terrible spy, nearly getting caught every time he’s taken a peek at her ring size or tried to determine what kind of ring she’d like. Her jewelry case was full of gold, so the band was easy. But what kind of cut would she want? Just a simple diamond, maybe something else? Did she just want a centerpiece or would she want smaller gems surrounding it? All the possibilities made his head spin.

It had felt like the most difficult and detrimental choice of his life. And all of it led up to this. He clears his throat and slowly breaks off from her. “I have something for you. Will you wait here a second?”

Lizzie’s smile turns confused at the corners, her eyes crinkling a bit with it, but she just shakes her head in fake-exasperation with him. “Whatever you want, Uno.”

He squeezes her hands before letting go of her and going to the dresser. He digs through his sock drawer, fingers finally closing tightly around black velvet. “The gift kind of requires a question.” He says, coming and sitting beside her, keeping the box behind his back.

Lizzie’s eyes light up, and he knows that she knows. He doesn’t mind, it’s almost better this way.

He pulls the box out from behind his back, opens the top to reveal it. Shiny golden band, marquise cut, shimmering topaz center, surrounded by tiny white diamonds. Perfect, every inch of it, worth every last penny.

Tears spring to her eyes, her left hand shakes as she holds it out to him, “Nigey?”

“Elizabeth Eve Devine,” Nigel Uno says softly, gently removing the ring from its velvet nest. “Would you do me the honor of becoming your husband?”

Lizzie can’t even speak, tears streaming down her face. She just nods fervently, moving in to kiss him before he can even properly put the ring on her finger.

He fumbles it on her ring finger before cupping her face with one hand, the other wrapping around her to pull her in close. She pulls away enough to giggle and sigh, leaning her forehead against his. “Yes, Nigel Archibald Uno. Make me the happiest woman alive and become my husband.”

He presses another soft kiss to her lips. “Just tell me when, I’ll be there early.”

She pulls away to glare at him and shove a finger into his sternum. “You better be, because if you leave me at the altar I’m suing you for damages.”

He takes the offending hand and kisses the back of it. “You’d have every right. And you’d win. I would never dream of it.”

Her face melts into a smile, soft and sweet and his alone. “I love you, Nigey.”

“Love you, too, darling.”

Notes:

i genuinely tried for a ring style that was suited to lizzie. i've done more research for fake proposal engagement rings than my own. anyways. these doofuses get married, and spoilers, but the next fic won't be their wedding, so some highlights:
-lizzie's parents aren't there, but her older sister cathy and brother-in-law bryan are! eddie walks her down the aisle along w cathy.
-it's an outdoor spring wedding, lots of vines and flowers
-sector v are there bc hoagie and abby are already married and hoagie and nigel are childhood bffs. lizzie met kuki through a retreat of some sort and they hit it off, so she and her husband wally are invited
-nigel's cousins cry harder than anyone there; collectively
-benedict uno sees it in the newspaper that's delivered to him in solitary confinement and nearly kills himself crashing out over it
-nigel's got less reasons to be paranoid in this au but is still equally paranoid so he's definitely concealed carrying at least two guns and God only knows how many other weapons. they use the knife in his inside tux pocket to cut the cake
-they're like my age so their first dance song is smthn sappy lizzie chose (golden hour by jvke, she by jake scott, you know the vibe) i didn't have a definite one picked out but now i gotta think of one
okay that's it go read smthn else till part 3 goes up.