A/N: Just so you all know, my knowledge of CSI is limited as I had to stop watching after the first season due to a change in cable status. Now that I have it again, I've been trying to catch up on reruns but obviously don't know everything that's happened. Please forgive any errors. Also, I don't own anything…

Arguing the Law

By Lula

Chapter One

It was funny how, sometimes, his job could be so peaceful. Just him, the scene and the evidence. So simple.

He knelt on the ground next to the broken lamp, remnants of a domestic disturbance gone even more wrong, and snapped the camera's shutter. The soft mechanical whir of the camera and his breathing were the only sounds in the room. Grissom and the others were busy at a multiple homicide on the other side of the city, which meant he was flying solo.

Solo work wasn't a prestige thing for him, as much as he always pushed for it. He just thought better when it was quiet. Thought better, saw better … was better.

Bringing the camera close to his stomach, Nick rested back on his haunches, blowing out pent up breath as he scanned the room to determine which area to process next. His eyes rested on a dark smudge on the far wall, something he hadn't been able to see when standing earlier.

Stepping carefully through the debris on the living room floor, he made his way to the smudge, a self-satisfied half smile growing on his face as he recognized it as fresh blood – far away from where the rest of the action had supposedly happened. The half smile became a full one as he snapped a picture and pulled out a swab to get a sample for the lab.

The evidence doesn't mesh with the husband's statement … and the evidence doesn't lie …

Annie didn't exactly hate her job. She considered it a necessary evil, a stepping stone to her preferred position as a public defender. She needed to work for Burnett, Chase and Morgan to make some money to pay back school loans while she waited for a public defender's spot to open up.

The problem was that most of the attorneys at Burnett, Chase and Morgan were the type of lawyers she hated – scumbags no better than the people they represented; the people who paid them top dollar to beat the system on a technicality.

With that attitude, it was no wonder her friends and roommate kept questioning why she wanted to be a public defender instead of a prosecutor or something outside of criminal law. No one understood that she actually respected law enforcement and didn't want to keep criminals on the street.

Instead, and it may be idealistic, she wanted to defend because she had faith in the system – and that system guaranteed a fair and speedy trial. She knew she would do as good a job of defending her clients as possible, but it wouldn't upset her if the evidence proved them guilty.

But, boy oh boy, she wished she could be in that position right now, defending people who couldn't afford it – whether they were hardened criminals or kids caught up in the wrong crowd or even normally good people caught up in the moment.

Basically, any client other than the sleazebag leering at her from across the conference table, not even listening to Mark Burnett as he explained what would happen in the courtroom tomorrow.

James Willard, III was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had stepped all over people to make it a golden one by the time he was 35. And, apparently, when he decided to trade in his wife for a younger version, he decided murder was easier than divorce settlements.

Normally, she reserved judgment on clients – it was easier to do her job when she could pretend they were innocent. But this firm and its clients were jading her. She only hoped she could get back to her normal self once the city of Las Vegas decided it had enough money in its budget to hire another defender.

Annie shook her head to clear it of the self-pity and listened to her boss explain how the hearing in the morning would basically be a presentation of evidence so the judge could decide if there was reason for a trial.

Burnett, of course, would ask for an immediate dismissal. After all, Mrs. Willard shot herself…

And Annie would ride shotgun – basically just sitting there because a man like Willard wouldn't have just one lawyer.

As disgusted as she was with the case and herself, she was also secretly looking forward to it. After three months of working after graduation, this would be her first time actually in a courtroom!

At least the smile on her face was real when she shook Willard's hand as he left the meeting.

Nick was peering into the microscope when his pager went off, letting him know that Greg was done with his labs. He finished his analysis of fibers found at the scene and secured the evidence before heading off to the lab. There was no way he was letting someone argue his chain of custody of the evidence.

He smirked at Greg singing along to some song he'd never even heard before. The younger man's hair was sticking up even more than usual.

"Hey, Greggo."

"Nick, my man."

"You got my results?"

"Yepper… the blood from the wall was the vic's but laced with bleach. I bet if you go back to the scene, you'll find there was actually a lot more blood on the wall, but the perp tried to clean it up."

Nick chuckled. "Great."

It was Greg's turn to smirk, which made Nick's stomach sink as he anticipated a twist.

"That blood doesn't make your job easier, buddy. It makes it harder."

"Huh?"

"It doesn't match the vic or her husband. There was someone else there – and they lost a lot of blood."

"Oh, man."

"Looks like someone's going to be pulling a double …"

"Yeah – but first I gotta go get ready for court."

"Oh? Which case?"

"Willard."

"Oh, no problemo. That evidence could practically present itself."

"Yeah, but he has Mark Burnett as his lawyer."

Greg shook his head. "Darn lawyers."

Nick barked in laughter. "I know… I mean, are defense attorneys even human?"

"Ooooh, burn…." The men smiled at each other as Nick headed toward the break room to get some caffeine. He was going to need it…

Annie and Burnett walked up the courthouse steps. She was quiet, trying to settle the butterflies in her stomach. Why the heck was she so nervous anyway? It's not like she'd be doing anything but sit there!

Burnett called out to a bailiff out on his cigarette break. The man nodded, dropping his butt to the ground and crushing it under his boot.

"Hey."

"Chris, you in Judge Myer's court today?"

"Now, now… don't be trying to bribe me." The men laughed at their long-running joke.

"Of course not," Burnett cried in mock affront. "But if I was…how much would it take to find out which CSI is presenting?"

"Nothing, man. That's public record. Nick Stokes."

"Damn."

The bailiff smiled, nodded at Annie and headed back inside.

"Why damn?"

Burnett let out a breath and ran a hand through his distinguished graying hair.

"I normally don't have to deal with Stokes. I know he has a completely different style than his boss, who usually testifies in the cases I argue. Stokes really … connects with the jury – with people."

"But this is just a hearing."

"Typically, the same CSI will present throughout the trial."

"Oh…" Annie smiled. "Well, we'll figure out something, I'm sure."

Burnett smiled back. "That's my girl."

They entered the courtroom and went to their table at the front. Annie set her briefcase down in front of the second chair and clicked open the clasps. She sat down, smoothed out her skirt and breathed deeply. She caught Burnett's supportive smile as she tried to calm down, listening to people file into the room, most likely there for cases later on the docket. She figured some would be reporters though, as Willard was a pretty famous man. Hence, why he had a senior partner defending him.

She noticed Karen Matthews, the prosecutor, take her seat across the aisle and shot a grin over at her. Karen had guest lectured for some of her classes at the University and they had become friends. Most of the time, prosecutors and defenders didn't really like each other, but Karen knew and understood Annie's reasons behind her chosen profession. She was glad that she wouldn't have to argue just yet against her mentor, not sure if she could handle that so soon into her career.

Then the judge was entering, they were standing and it began. After initial presentations by Burnett and Karen, the judge asked the state to call its first witness, a detective Jim Brass. Brass looked like a typical cop – or at least Hollywood's typical cop, all gruffness, and doughnut eating and no-nonsense. He talked about the investigation and what the interrogations had provided. While Burnett stood and tried to poke holes in his case, Annie took notes. Not on the testimony, but on how Burnett behaved and questioned. Although she didn't want to be like him in the long run, she knew she could learn a lot from him by observation.

Brass's turn at bat was over relatively quickly, and Karen stood.

"The state calls Crime Scene Investigator Nicholas Stokes."

Annie heard footsteps from the crowd behind them, and saw out of the corner of her eye a man in a suit walking toward the front of the room. When he got into her main field of vision, Annie had to suck in a breath and duck her head to hide the flush. He was probably one of the hottest guys she had ever seen.

Annie Grayne, this is not the time or place to be thinking such thoughts. From now on, you will consider this man to be your opponent, for Pete's sake!

But that didn't stop her heart from fluttering when he began to speak, a soft Texas drawl making blood and DNA and hair fibers sound so sexy. Annie had no trouble understanding what Burnett meant when he said the CSI could connect with people.

When Karen sat down and Burnett stood, she noticed a change come over the witness, as he steeled up and gazed at her boss with an expression that was … mild disgust.

Well, see, now you can stop daydreaming. He's obviously like all the other law enforcement guys out there – completely hates defense attorneys. He'd want nothing to do with you.

And the fact that, when he locked eyes with her a few seconds later, he quickly looked away merely cemented that first impression in Annie's head.

Nick forced himself to focus on Burnett and his questions, but the more he tried to ignore the woman at the defense table, the more he was aware of her in his peripheral vision.

It's not like he hadn't seen pretty girls before. Heck, it's not like he hadn't dated pretty girls before. He had no idea why this one intrigued him so much. Maybe because he had immediately classified her as off limits. Not because of the case, but because of her job. A defense attorney … let's just say he preferred women with souls.

Yet he couldn't keep his eyes from sliding toward her over and over again. Nick's breath caught in his throat when their eyes met, hers a cool penetrating blue that sparkled as she half smiled.

He jerked his gaze away, fixing them on Burnett as disgust at his unprofessional behavior overcame him.

He felt a little better, however, when the attorney told Judge Myer that he had no further questions. Burnett didn't look happy – which meant, of course, that Nick had every reason to be.

"Thank you, CSI Stokes. Next witness, please."

Stepping off the witness podium, Nick flashed a smile at Karen and continued to avoid the other side of the courtroom as he walked back to the audience and sat down a few rows back. He certainly could have gone back to the lab and started working on figuring out who the other person at his new scene was, but he wanted to see what was going to happen to Willard.

That's the only reason I'm staying … really …