I thought it would be interesting to see what it would be like if Mike was ever to have a stalker. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of 'Law & Order.' Nor do I own Prada, 'Shop Girl' or 'Boston Legal.' The characters Rachel, Sarah, and Carlos are mine.

Category: Connie/Mike, Mike/other

Rating: PG

Note: 'Shop Girl' spoilers

Requital and Unrequited

By LTP-girl

Rachel worked as a waitress at the Barrister Barista, a small coffee shop, not far from the District Attorney's office. She liked it there, the atmosphere was quiet and serene, and her customers, who were mostly lawyers, were usually friendly and polite. She knew that it was strange saying that about a small bustling New York business, but that's how she found it. The physical surroundings were also peaceful, the lemon-meringue walls detailed with soft blue vines, and the polished floorboards shining. Gentle music, with blues like numbers, played in the background, and the sweet scents of gardenias and roses filtered the air. This could be more than said for the dreary and miserable weather outside. But, the new array of flowers imported from California that had been put on display gave the illusion that spring was just around the corner.

She had just finished loading the coffee machine when he walked in.

She turned to face the counter to take his order. "What can I get for you this morning, Mr. Cutter?" she asked shyly.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I'll take a long black, and a skinny latte to go, thanks Rachel," he replied in his Boston accent.

"Long black and a vanilla latte," she repeated writing it down on a note pad.

He paid her the money, and he was surprised to see her blush. "Keep the change," he said flashing his pearly smile.

She put the money in the cash register, and then prepared the coffee.

"How's law school, Rachel?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence between them.

"It's going quit well," she answered, pouring the hot liquid into paper cups, then covering them with plastic caps.

"That's good," he answered. He took the coffee from the counter and left.

Rachel's friend and co-worker, Sarah, approached her from behind. "You've got a thing for that Michael Cutter, haven't you?"

Rachel whirled around to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with me," she answered smugly. "I saw the way you looked at him. And ever since he first walked through that door, it's always been Michael Cutter this, and Michael Cutter that."

"It has not," she defended, leering at him from the corner of her eye, as he walked up the street. "He's just some guy I know."

Sarah laughed. "Yeah, just some guy you know," she replied sarcastically. "Didn't seem that way the other day when you couldn't stop talking about him."

Rachel removed a box of change from a shelf beneath the counter, and placed coins and notes in their right places into the cash register. "I had a bad hangover that day, that's all."

Sarah picked up her cup of herbal tea she had been drinking. "What I'm saying is, if you really like him, you should make a move. You never know, you might end up pretty well off together." She dunked the teabag before taking a sip. "This friend of mine has been with her college professor on three years now."

"No way, I would never do something like that," Rachel replied melancholy. "Michael Cutter is way too old for me. Anyway, I've always suspected that he and that brunette he works with might end up together."

"He's hardly jail bait anymore," she reasoned. "And if you do consider it, he may be able to pay for your tuition, and then you'll never have to work in this dump ever again."

Rachel looked out of the shop window, gazing at the slender man opening his black umbrella as he crossed the street.

***

Mike removed his jacket and threw it on the couch.

What a day! He thought to himself.

First he skidded and fell backwards in the rain and spilled five-dollar coffee all over himself, and then his umbrella turned inside out and broke in the wind.

He nearly got shot, again, in the restroom.

The defence attorney for that day's case thought his client's trial wasn't until the week after, and didn't turn up.

His car's battery had run flat, and he had to take the subway home.

The train he took stopped to a halt, and he fell on some snippy social worker from child protection, who then gave him a nasty shout-down about sexual harassment.

And now, he had just scuffed a new pair of Prada loafers on the stairway up to his apartment.

Except for Rachel from the coffee shop giving him the eye, he had a pretty crappy day.

He went into the kitchen and reached for the scotch he kept in the top cupboard, and poured himself a glass.

He heard scratching on his kitchen window.

What's that noise?

He peered out of his window, but nobody was there.

Must be the rain, he thought to himself. Either that or I'm going crazy.

He felt his blackberry vibrating in his pocket, and dug it out to answer the call.

"Hey, Connie," he answered.

"Hey Mike, I've just been over those briefs for the Harley case, and you know what? I think with that new evidence that Bernard and Lupo have found, it's going to be pretty slam dunk," she informed him. "They've found that the finger prints on the crow bar found at the crime scene match those of Mark Harley. They've also found a broken fingernail stuck in the victim's neck, which also matches the suspect's DNA."

"That's great," Mike replied, feeling a little better. "Finally some good news. I guess that attorney not turning up has its compensations."

Connie laughed. "Remember Mike, some things happen for a reason."

"Oh, you're not trying to get me into that religious bullocks, are you?" he half joked.

"Well, some things do happen in this world that even we can't explain," she continued.

Mike heard more scratching outside his window again, and turned around to investigate, now half listening to what Connie had to say.

"There's that noise again," he said to himself, puzzled.

"What noise?" Connie asked.

"Oh, nothing. There's just this scratching outside my kitchen window," he explained, looking out his window a second time, but seeing nothing. "Hm, must be just tree branches." He shrugged it off.

"That's strange, I didn't think you had trees near your window," Connie piped up.

"Well, birds then," he defended. He was now feeling slightly uneasy.

"What, do you think you have a stalker?" she stifled.

He couldn't help but hear her muffled laughter from the other end of the line. "Well stranger things have happened," he said. "You know Rachel, that girl at that coffee shop? She blushed at me this morning."

"Don't worry, Mike, I'm sure every second girl in New York is lining up to get between the sheets with you, and a couple of guys. Haven't you noticed?"

"I guess a few have given me some odd looks but...hey, what do you mean by a couple of guys?"

"Carlos, that paralegal, has had his eyes on you for quite a while, a Mr Hot-Shot-Lawyer like you," Connie continued to joke. "Oh, Mike I'm just messing with you. Hey, McCoy said that he wants us to go over this case with him tomorrow, and feels that we're going to nail this one." She changed the subject.

"Okay, I'll bring the witness statements I was going over."

"Good," she replied. "Oh, and Mike don't worry about Carlos. I've set him up with this dentist I know."

Mike laughed back.

After speaking with Connie, he headed towards his lounge room and slumped into the couch in front of the TV, relieved that he had the night off for once. He flicked on his favourite program, Boston Legal.

Rachel climbed up the piping and peeped through the window once again, and watched Mike fall asleep in the couch.

How do you like it so far? Feel free to review, as it will help me with my next chapter.