Just some drabble. I don't know whether I'll continue it as a story or not. Let me know what you think *^_^*

Disclaimer: I do not own the Law & Order franchise and its characters.

Gavel Bar, One Hogan Place, 10:20pm

Michael Cutter stared despondently into the glass of eight-year-old scotch sitting in front of him, his head slumped in misery as he contemplated the events of that day. He had failed to prove malice in a murder trial, the prosecution's key witness passing out drunk during the defence's cross-examination not helping matters, Judge Braden declaring a mistrial. This made it his fourth mistrial in a row.

"We just didn't prove our case," his ADA, Connie, had insisted as they left the courthouse that afternoon.

Mike somehow doubted that. He considered that foul play was to blame, the defence slipping the witness a mickey. He felt that there was something sly about the young hot-shot, defence attorney Ethan Marks, despite there being no sufficient evidence to prove his involvement in witness tampering, or anything else that went against his character.

Ah, fuck him, he cursed to himself, taking a swig of his drink, the alcohol beginning to numb his senses.

Kathleen eyed the smartly dressed man sitting at the bar across the room, admiring his slender build, his jacket removed and shirt sleeves rolled up, as he leaned over the bar.

She made her way stealthy towards the older man.

It wasn't common form, her approaching sleazy old men in bars. She usually waited for them to approach her. But there was something intriguing about this guy that awakened her interest. Something dark and alluring. And he certainly didn't come across as sleazy. Perhaps it was the three mojitos she had consumed earlier tweaking her perception.

She let her fingers run playfully along the gentleman's arm to get his attention.

He looked up at the blonde standing before him, a little surprised to see her there.

"Hey, Mr, you want some company tonight?" she asked in a low voice.

Mike gawked at her, his mouth agape, taken aback by her approach.

"Don't you want to take me to some seedy hotel room where we can do the nasty?" she said teasingly. She moved a little closer, the sharp scent of his cologne pricking her senses.

His lips curled up in response to the eager twinkle in her eyes. After the day he had, he was up for anything to keep his mind off the trial.

Wait a minute, he thought cautiously. There was something about her he didn't trust. She appeared young, his reasoning telling him that she was possibly too young.

She could have been in her late teens, but she would have easily passed as a woman in her early twenties.

As a prosecutor, he had put countless men in prison for mistaking an underage girl for someone much older. He certainly didn't want to become one of those men.

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Oh sweet-hawt, trust me I'd love to," he said. "But ah..."

She flirtatiously slid her fingers through his greying hair, a sense of mischief hindering behind a superficial innocent expression.

His eyes widened, astounded by her forthright advances. He had to admit, it had been a while since he had last received such attention from a beautiful young woman.

"Then let's get out of here," she said, feeling herself drowning in the silver-blue of his eyes.

He rested his arm on the bar, his eyes staring her up and down. There was no denying she was attractive, and if there wasn't a question about her legal age, he would have bought her a drink, shared some harmless sweet-talk, and then taken her home with him.

His eyes narrowed pensively. "How old are you?" he enquired warily. His voice turned matter-of-factly. "Because if you're a day under eighteen, we're not going anywhere."

"I'm twenty-two, actually," she said to him confidently, a warm smile plastered across her face. She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out her wallet to show him her fake I.D.

Mike took it from her hand, and held it up to the light to get a better look. "Kathleen Stabler, D.O.B: 1987," he read from the small piece of plastic. He glanced back up at her, handing back her I.D card.

He patted the stool next him, signalling for Kathleen to take a seat.

She moved the stool closer towards him, before plonking herself onto it.

He placed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "What's your drink, pumpkin?" he asked her, his eyes intent.

She detected a seductive hue in his New England accent. "I'll have another mojito," she replied, his steady gaze causing the hairs on the back of her neck to raise and stiffen.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Aww, aren't you sweet?" he said with a debauched wink.

He finished off the remainder of his scotch, and banged his empty glass on the bar, before calling out to the barman.

"Another scotch, and a mojito for the lady."

What do you think? Feel free to comment:-D