i. the average (un)reasonable person
✧··· word count: 4,4k
✧··· chapter warnings: mild sexually suggestive language
✧··· link to chapter on ao3
back to series masterlist | back to main masterlist
hi! this is my first time ever putting my writing out there. never thought it would be pazzi fanfic lol, but inspiration for this struck after reading eclipcee's wonderful dentistry school au fic and just wouldn't let go. because im a recovering mooter, this WIP has become a repository for all my trauma. it's been very cathartic.
NB to note that im not american — ive never been to america, and all my knowledge of it and its law schools comes from tv, film, and a lot of frantic googling. where im from, law is a 4 year undergraduate degree that you can do right out of high school. so even though i decided to use the american 1L, 2L, 3L construction, paige and azzi are 20/21 years old in this like a third year law student where i live would be. with everything else ive tried to adhere to the american system but i can't say how accurate i've been haha. i don't think the law school/mooting jargon gets too in the way of the story, but ive included a glossary at the end for the curious. please let me know if there's anything you'd like me to clarify!
thank u to rea for helping with the formatting on here and the css/html workskin stuff on ao3, for giving this a read over, and for all ur support as always 🩷
anyway, i hope you enjoy!! :))
> 40 days to Memorial Submissions
> 91 days to Regional Rounds
> 115 days to International Rounds
According to Connecticut General Statute section 53a-64bb, strangulation in the second degree involved “intentionally restraining another by the neck or throat with intent to impede breathing or circulation”, was a class D felony, and was punishable by up to five years in prison, fines, or probation.
Azzi Fudd knew this because was is 1) up to her neck in Crim Law revision, and 2) seriously contemplating whether it would be worth spending five years in a cell to strangle Paige Bueckers. She was also cold, incredibly sleep-deprived, hangry, and just a little horny despite it all, so maybe the prosecutors would accept extenuating circumstances. Surely, it wouldn’t be ridiculous for the average reasonable person to understand that Azzi, a normally very level-headed and rational person, would be driven to uncharacteristic violence after too much time spent in close proximity to the walking headache that was Paige, and especially in the heat of the moment.
The moment being this: past 1 AM, in a drab, small-ish, windowless room with ancient grey carpeting and harsh fluorescent lights tucked in a forgotten corner of Mackenzie Hall, Azzi was trying her absolute best to focus on her third and hopefully final read-through of Kelis’s draft applicant memorial¹ while Paige, rocking her chair back and forth at a reckless angle, munched loudly on her 10th slim jim of the day and laughed at whatever stupid YouTube video she was watching on her iPad. Probably one of those basketball meme compilations she and KK were always referencing.
The sounds — the squeak of the chair, the soft thud it made every time Paige rocked it back onto all four legs, the disgusting wet sound of her chewing, her obnoxious cackle, and, worst of all, the popping as she absent-mindedly cracked her knuckles — all jumbled together in the worst possible way. The headache behind her eyes intensified. Azzi had forgotten her noise-cancelling headphones in Caroline’s apartment the day before and had thought she could get through the day with her regular ones. Big mistake. But worse than the sound, was the sight in front of her.
Paige, in a creased, baggy hoodie and sweatpants, with her hair shoved back in a haphazard bun under a floppy beanie and her giant headphones, and glasses shoved high up on her nose, was one of the few people Azzi knew who had a schedule just as hectic as hers. Maybe (though Azzi would never admit to this) even more hectic than hers. And yet, despite the fact that they were both drowning in finals revision, Frosh League² coaching, finalising their Jessup³ memorials, research for Professors Close and Auriemma, Law Review and Legal Clinic work, and all the other things they had going on in their lives… Paige was still so stupidly, stubbornly, annoyingly cheerful. It was past midnight, they both had far too much work on their hands, but she seemed totally unfazed.
And worst of all! She was beautiful. Even with her hair a mess, shadows under eyes and pimple patches dotting her cheeks and chin. Even with her stupid laugh that made her mouth open way too much and the stain on the hoodie she’d worn two days in a row. Even when she was driving Azzi up the fucking wall. She was beautiful and somehow really fucking hot. And it had been way too long (four days; not that Azzi was keeping track) since she’d kissed Azzi with her hot, stupid mouth or used her hot, stupidly long and skilled fingers to make Azzi's brain go wonderfully hazy.
So, yeah. Hungry, stressed, exhausted, and very pent up, while Paige taunted her mercilessly a few feet away. Extenuating circumstances. Strangulation. Connecticut General Statute section 53a-64bb. Jail really didn’t sound too bad right now.
But, luckily for Paige, Azzi had the self-control of a saint.
“Will you please be quiet?” she asked instead, and instantly cringed at how croaky her voice sounded. It hadn’t been that bad the last time she’d spoken, an hour ago when she’d said goodnight to Jana and Aubrey.
Paige had the audacity to look surprised by the request, eyes widening behind her glasses as she paused the video. “Shit, sorry. Was I being loud?”
Azzi tried not to roll her eyes. Loud was Paige’s default. “Yes.”
“M’bad,” Paige chuckled sheepishly. She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.
Azzi did roll her eyes this time, but replied, “Thanks,” like the saint she was, and turned her attention back to her work.
She’d promised herself that she would get at least five hours of sleep before her first tutoring session tomorrow (or later that day, whatever), which meant she needed to be done with her edits by 2 AM so she could be back at her dorm by 2:30 and asleep by 3 AM. She just needed to power through reviewing Kelis’s second argument and prayer for relief ⁴, and then she could finally go home to her bed…
… but this was Paige, and Azzi couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her be still for longer than thirty seconds. So not even a minute of silence passed before there was a soft cough from the other side of the room. The squeak of the chair as Paige shifted in her seat. Then a sniffle. Another beat of silence. A small, muffled laugh. Chewing. Silence. Chewing. Another sniffle. More squeaking.
“Paige!” Her voice cracked half-way, which just made her angrier.
“What?” Paige said indignantly. “I’m not doing nothin’! Also, you sound terrible, bro. You need a lozenge or sum’n.”
Azzi suddenly felt like crying. She was so tired.
She saved her progress, snapped her laptop closed and began packing her things into her backpack. When it was stuffed to bursting, she shrugged into her puffer coat, heaved the bag over her shoulders, and stood, heading for the door.
On the other side of the room, Paige was scrambling to get up and follow.
“Wha-? Azzi! Where you goin’? Wait up, I’m sorry!”
Azzi huffed, shoving the door open and letting it close behind her. She could hear Paige frantically pack her own things up before turning off the lights, following her out and locking the door. She didn’t slow her pace as she headed for the exit and their footsteps echoed sharply in the empty corridor.
“Azzi!” Paige called, already catching up and tugging at her sleeve insistently. “C’mon. M’sorry, don’t be mad.” She tried to walk backwards to face Azzi while she spoke, stumbling slightly but flashing the charming smile that got her out of trouble more often than not, and holding her hands up in a show of remorse.
A less exhausted version of her probably would’ve caved to that smile, but current Azzi was beyond her limit. She pushed past Paige with a huff and sped up towards the entrance lobby.
Paige grumbled, “Broooo,” but followed behind.
When they reached the after-hours exit, Azzi snapped her student card against the scanner and tried to push through the turnstile before Paige could squeeze in behind her, but of course Paige was too fast and pressed tight up against Azzi’s back, her breath hot on the back of her neck, and then they were on the other side and outside in the biting cold.
“Fuck me, it’s freezing,” Paige grumbled, pulling her own jacket tighter around her and starting down the side-stairs to the parking lot. “Thank God I moved the car closer earlier. Let’s go.”
Paige clearly expected Azzi to follow, and she was already almost at the bottom of the stairs while Azzi stood still at the top, thinking.
It was just a given. Their schedules overlapped most of the time and they both spent most of their time on campus. Azzi hated driving and only used her own car for emergencies or when they really needed an extra vehicle to ferry their friends to and from the function. Paige liked driving. And her car was nicer, and Azzi was in her passenger seat so often that it was always in the exact position she preferred, and the glove compartment had, among Paige’s hoard of snacks, hair ties, and crumpled receipts, a little bag with Azzi’s favourite lip balm, hand cream, emergency deodorant, and a stash of tampons and sanitary pads for them both, because Paige somehow forgot she had a period every month.
Crucially, at the moment, Paige’s car had warm seats and would get her to her apartment in fifteen minutes. Walking meant battling the icy wind for at least twenty-five.
Azzi pondered her options. Warmth and convenience, or pettiness and her pride?
“Az?” Paige called from the parking lot. She looked up at Azzi, brow scrunched in confusion. The moon was full and strong, and its light peeked through the winter clouds to turn her pale skin almost blue and her blonde hair a glowing white. Even with the baggy clothes and beanie sitting on top of her head at a silly angle, she looked like a fairy princess. Azzi didn’t even want to think about what she must look like after a long day and hours spent in the dry, stale air of the Moot Office. It only added another layer of annoyance.
“Are you seriously that mad at me?” Paige demanded, irritation leaking into her voice. She came back up the stairs and stopped a few steps below Azzi, glaring up at her. “What are you gonna do, walk home? You’re already getting sick, dude. Just come on.”
Azzi kept quiet, but she felt her mouth pull tight into a stubborn look Paige knew well. Paige rolled her eyes and leaned up to pull at Azzi’s arm. Azzi was stronger but Paige was the man-handler in their dynamic, and Azzi had to remind herself to not do the habitual thing and just let Paige drag her wherever she wanted.
“Azzi,” Paige whined. “I said I was sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m very very sorry. I won’t do it again.” She put her hands together in a promise, but way the side of her mouth twitched gave away what they both knew: Paige would absolutely do it again. Being annoying was as much a part of who she was as being blonde and being smart and being tall and being effortlessly confident.
Azzi wanted to keep put. She hadn’t made up her mind and Paige wasn’t helping her case with the whining.
But just then a sharp, frigid wind whipped around them and bit fiercely at her ears and cheeks.
Paige squealed and pulled at Azzi’s arm with more urgency, and at the thought of warming her butt on toasty warm leather seats, Azzi finally relented. She allowed Paige to hurry them towards her Jeep and rolled her eyes when Paige opened the passenger door with a sarcastic bow, taking her bag and ushering her inside. Paige quickly put their bags in the trunk and got in the driver’s seat, started the car and turned on the seat warmers. Soon they were pulling out of the parking lot — Paige stopped to exchange a friendly word out the window with the security guard, Jay, at the boom gate — and headed towards Azzi’s apartment building.
Campus was dark and as empty as it should be past midnight in the middle of the week, just before finals started. They drove in silence with Paige’s current favourite album, Summer Walker’s latest release, playing softly. Azzi stared out the window, ignoring the plaintive looks she felt Paige sending her.
They rolled to a stop at a red light and Paige turned her body as far as it could in the seat to stare at Azzi. She sighed loudly but Azzi kept her gaze stubbornly fixed on the trashcan on the corner.
“Silent treatment? Seriously?”
“You’re better than this, Az.”
“What did I even do? I was keeping you company like the best friend in the world that I am, and you’re mad at me because I — what? Laughed a little too loud?”
Not quite how I’d characterise it. But sure.
“This is real childish.” The petulance in Paige’s voice made the statement somewhat ironic.
Why the hell is this red light taking so long?
“Whatever,” Paige griped as the light turned green and they pulled away. “You’re just tired and hungry, it’s not even about me. Told you to have some of my burrito, but noooooo.”
Azzi’s eye twitched at Paige’s flippant diagnosis and contemplated extending her silence into the next day as punishment. They had plans to get lunch, just the two of them, before another long Jessup meeting and a study session with Aubrey and Kaitlyn at Aubrey’s apartment. Experience told her how pissed Paige would be if she ignored her at lunch, and a tiny, vindictive part of her relished in it. She could even cancel, or worst of all, not show up at all without telling Paige a thing…
Knowing full well she would never do that, that a decent night’s sleep and a good breakfast would reset her aggravated energy and she’d be fine when Paige came to pick her up from her tutoring session, she let herself indulge in the little fantasy, imagining Paige’s anger when she realised Azzi had left her to sit at their usual table in the corner of the mess hall alone. It satisfied that evil part of her and helped ease her irritation a little.
When they turned onto Azzi’s street, she unbuckled her seatbelt and told herself she wasn’t so rude that she wouldn’t say goodnight at least, but then Paige swung into the parking lot instead of pulling up in front of the entrance and eased into her favourite visitor’s spot.
It was Azzi’s turn to stare at Paige in confusion, and Paige returned the look with that determined, pig-headed expression she got when she’d made up her mind and no one could change it.
“It’s Thursday,” she said matter-of-factly.
Azzi sputtered in indignation. “Wh— No!”
“I sleep over on Thursdays.” And with that, she hopped out and pulled both of their backpacks out of the trunk and over her shoulders. She stood outside the passenger door, waiting.
Azzi muffled a frustrated scream into her hands. Paige drove her crazy and half of the time it wasn’t in the good way. The horniness that had simmered underneath her skin and added to her frustration earlier had dissipated into thin air. The thought of expending any energy, even if it was just to keep her eyes open and mind engaged as Paige did all work, irritated her even more. She just wanted to sleep, why did this day have to be so hard?
She got out. “Paige. I’m tired. I’m mad. Even if I had the energy to —”
“Didn’t say nothing about anything ‘cept sleep, bro. Get your head outta the gutter.”
Azzi stared at her as she turned around, walked to the resident’s side entrance, entered the code and stood with the door open, waiting for Azzi with a raised brow.
With one final sigh of resignation, Azzi shuffled after her. They got in the elevator and then out on her floor, and anyone watching them would’ve assumed it was Paige’s apartment with how familiarly she led the way, digging in the front pocket of Azzi’s backpack where she kept her keys, and herded her inside. With a brusque air that spoke to her own annoyance, she got them both out of their coats, hanging them up behind the front door, removed her sneakers and urged Azzi to take hers off before placing them in the rack in the entryway, and deposited their bags by the small dining room table that was barely visible under several layers of study materials.
“You go first,” Paige said, gesturing to the bathroom. She took Azzi’s lunch bag out of her backpack, removing the glass lunch container, reusable cutlery, and tea flask, and rinsed them in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher. She looked around to make sure there weren’t any dishes to add before popping in a capsule and starting the load. Azzi walked slowly to the bedroom, watching as Paige took off her beanie, flinging it onto the sofa, and removed her glasses to place on the table. She then put water in a big mug to heat in the microwave before getting out Azzi’s sleepy time tea. She poured herself a glass of water to take her melatonin while she waited and leaned against the counter, finally looking like someone who’d been up since 7 AM, body sagging with fatigue.
The urge to cry pricked at Azzi's eyes again, startling her, and she turned around. She moved on autopilot through her dark bedroom, grabbing two sleep shirts, a pair of underwear and shorts from the dresser. She tossed a shirt and the shorts on the bed, and took the underwear and other shirt into the bathroom with her. Paige was stirring her tea when she peeked back into the kitchen. Closing the bathroom door with a worn sigh, she turned the shower on and stared in the mirror while the water heated up. The bags under her eyes were darker than ever, the bun on top of her head was a frizzy mess, her skin had that dull look it got when she wasn’t on top of her skincare in the winter, and her lips were chapped. Thankfully the mirror fogged up before she could find anymore flaws for her brain to fixate on.
She turned the stream as hot as she dared and imagined that the scalding water was sterilising her from the horrible day she’d had as it battered her bone-weary body. She’d slept terribly the previous night — hazy nightmares about getting cold-called in Professor Staley’s Civil Procedure lecture — and had dragged herself through a morning Law Review meeting, the dreaded Civ Pro lecture where the sole bright spot of the day had been not getting called on, and a Contracts seminar so boring it actually put Aaliyah to sleep next to her. A quick lunch, then a study session with Paige in the library that had been cut short when some girl from the volleyball team stopped by their table to invite Paige (and “oh, you’re welcome too, Azzi! It’s just that we only get so many free tickets for friends and family, so…”) to their first tournament game and they’d had a long conversation about God knows what. When Azzi had left for her tutoring session, Paige had still been leaning comfortably against the table, long legs kicked out as she listened in that attentive way she just couldn’t help. By the time Azzi had trudged through the door to the Moot Office in time for her meeting with Kelis and Braylon, the 1L's she was coaching for the Frosh League, she’d already been fed up.
But she’d called on all her patience and will-power, and put on her best coach face. Braylon's arguments were decently reasoned and his confidence in speaking was good, but his draft memorials were horribly written and she’d walked him through the many red corrections she’d covered them in. Kelis’s arguments and draft memorials were considerably better developed and required less editing, and she was an engaging, lively speaker, but needed help with pacing her speech and enunciation. She’d worked with them for nearly two hours, then allowed Kelis to annoy her for a good fifteen minutes before sending her off with a (very hypocritical) lecture about eating dinner on time and getting a decent night’s sleep. That was when Paige and the others had arrived. The Moot Office was never empty during finals and the upperclassmen especially preferred it as a study spot. For the next several hours, until around midnight, the office was filled with low conversation and laughter, people sitting in huddles to confer with one another or alone with headphones on, and filling up the big white board on the far wall with marker scribbles as they explained concepts and cases to one another. Azzi let herself indulge in some conversation here and there, but everyone knew not to bother her otherwise, and before she knew it, she’d been saying goodbye to the last people to leave, Jana and Aubrey, and it had been just her and Paige. A regular occurrence, and one that normally brought her comfort.
Azzi felt some of the tension eke out of her shoulders. It wasn’t Paige’s fault. She certainly hadn’t helped in the moment, but Azzi would’ve been annoyed regardless; she could admit that now in the privacy of her own mind. She really, really needed some sleep.
Climbing out and drying off, she rushed through her nightly routine of brushing her teeth, skincare, and haircare, before securing her silk bonnet over her head and exiting the bathroom. The apartment was dark, but her room emitted a soft pink glow. She crept in and spied Paige leaning over the nightstand to plug her and Azzi’s phones into the dual-cord charger. She turned at the sound of Azzi in the doorway.
“Done?” she asked, yawning widely and stretching her arms over her head. She’d removed her hoodie so the movement revealed a flash of pale, toned stomach, and Azzi made herself look away, nodding in assent. Paige had turned on her little salt crystal lamp and the pink LED lights taped along the ceiling, and turned down the bed. The mug of tea sat on the nightstand by the side of the bed that Azzi preferred, tendrils of steam rising in the dimly light air.
Paige grabbed the other shirt and the shorts, and then a pair of her own underwear from the pile she kept in ‘her’ drawer in Azzi’s dresser, and went out. Azzi stared at the door for a moment, then sat in bed. She grabbed the mug of tea and let the ceramic warm her fingers while she tried not to freak out. She heard the shower start and forced herself to think about the work she’d left undone — a rarity for her — to keep her mind from drifting to thoughts of Paige under the spray of water. They rarely showered together because Paige couldn’t stand how hot Azzi liked them, but sometimes…
No! Bad Azzi! Time for bed. Not thoughts of Paige’s skin, warm and peachy pink and soft…
Azzi groaned, tipping her head back. She sipped slowly at the tea and prayed for the evening ritual to calm her. This day had been far too long and she needed the oblivion of dreamless sleep. Finishing the tea, she set it down and burrowed down in the covers. Eyes drooping, limbs settling into the mattress, she felt herself begin to drift off.
Her body had taken on that almost weightless state of near-sleep when she faintly registered movement in the room again. Rustling, the creak of the door, shuffling around by the other nightstand and the lights clicking off, and then the soft, familiar weight of another warm body sinking into the space beside her. The covers were drawn tight around them and then two large, strong hands were pulling gently, with practiced ease, at Azzi’s limp body until her back was pressed securely to Paige’s chest and their legs were tangled together. She brought around a pillow so that Azzi could hug it, then she sighed as she wrapped her arms around Azzi’s torso and dug her cold nose into Azzi’s neck.
“Mm,” she murmured. “Night, grumpy. Love you.”
The last thing Azzi remembered before sleep took her at last, was her own mumble.
moot competition: a simulation of a court proceeding where law students prepare and present legal arguments based on a hypothetical case to a judge or panel of judges
it tests students' research, reasoning, writing, and oral argumentation skills
there are various national and international competitions that law students can compete in, in all kinds of field of law, from commercial to human rights, etc.
teams usually consist of 4 to 5 people:
2 main speakers who present the prepared arguments for applicant and respondent to the judges and answer questions posed to them by the judges
2 researchers/writers who read up on the hypothetical case, find all the relevant precedents and issues, develop the arguments and prayers for relief, and write out the memorials for both the applicant and the respondent
usually at big competitions there is a 5th member who is either a reserve speaker or an extra writer/researcher
but typically, everyone on a team is heavily involved in research and developing the arguments, because the speakers need to know exactly what they'll be presenting as judges can ask them any question about the legal issues, history of the case and the facts, broader parts about the relevant area of law, etc.
students are typically coached by faculty members and/or senior/postgraduate students who have mooting experience (for example, my moot society doesn't have any faculty involvement beyond occasional consulting on research or helping us by pretending to be judges in their area of expertise; we're entirely coached and managed by ourselves and postgrad students or recent alumni who volunteer their time)
applicant: the party that has approached the court for relief (in Jessup cases this is usually an imaginary nation state based on one or more real nation states, or sometimes a group of individual people represented by a law firm on a common cause like claiming harm done to them by the respondent)
respondent: the opposing party that has to respond to the applicant's arguments and prayers for relief from the court with their own
1 memorial: the written document submitted to a moot court competition that outlines all your team's legal arguments, the facts of the case, and the relief (solution/outcome) you're 'praying' (asking the court) for; every team in a moot competition submits one memorial for applicant and one for respondent
2 Frosh League: an internal moot competition for first year students, coached by senior students and judged by lecturers in the relevant field of law (no idea if this is a thing in American universities, but its a big part of my moot society so i had to include it)
3 Jessup: Philip C. Jessup International Law Moot Court Competition, the biggest, most prestigious international moot competition in the world that simulates a case argued in front of the International Court of Justice
4 prayer for relief: what the applicant and respondent are asking the court to do
thank u for reading!
this first chapter is a shorter one to get the ball rolling but i expect the next ones to be longer.
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
