Okay, I know, everyone's done it, but it's my turn. :P

Rated for swearing. Spoilers for 3-4. This starts just as the case ends. xP

Thanks again to Rob (Sebastian Stark) for beta-reading this!


"The only time a lawyer can cry is when it's all over."

Mia jumped as Diego crushed the mug and gasped when she saw his hand begin to bleed. "M-Mr. Armando! Y-Your…"

If possible, she looked even more frantic than before, and Diego quickly found himself regretting his rashness. So he smiled, making sure it was his ordinary smile, not one that even suggested he was trying to be stoic despite pain (which he was), and told her calmly, "I'll be fine."

"B-but… you're b-bleeding…!"

Diego gave his hand a casual glance. Yeah, it was bleeding badly—and it hurt quite a lot. Crushing that mug had not been his brightest idea. "Y'know, I think I'd better go get this wrapped up. Are you gonna come with me, or will you be all right on your own for a few minutes…?"

"I-I'll be f-f-fine," Mia said, her answer belied by her trembling voice. When Diego had prompted her, she'd made a visible attempt to stop crying, but to no avail. It wasn't really surprising; Diego wasn't feeling all too hot either. He really would have liked a chance to sit alone for just a few minutes to sort out his thoughts, to make sure the painful, disturbing images of Fawles' collapse were covered with her face—with anger, which was safe. But right now, this kitten, this poor woman, was the greater concern. She'd been doing so well; to have this happen was beyond unfair. And if it was inevitable—no, undeniable—that she'd broken, then Diego felt it vital that someone was there to make sure all the pieces were gathered before some were lost.

"Why don't you come with me, Mia?" he asked, offering his left hand.

But she shook her head. "I'll be f-fine," she said again.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah. Go, y-you're bleeding all over the floor…"

She was right. "All right. Will you wait for me in the lobby, Mia?"

"Okay."

He went to leave the courtroom, but in a moment he glanced back at her—and what he saw made him wince.

Trembling so much that Diego could see it, even from ten feet away, she was walking haltingly towards the witness stand, towards where the bailiffs and the paramedics had gathered, towards where Fawles' body still lay.

"Mia," he called out to her, urgently, forcefully. She turned slowly at his voice; her eyes were unfocused. "I really don't think you should do that."

Her face contracted with tears. She mouthed his name, but no words made it past the sob in her throat. In an instant, Diego was beside her again, taking her hand and drawing her away from the corpse, out of the courtroom. All the while, she whispered, "It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault," and each time she repeated it, Diego told her, "No, it isn't."

He brought her to the defense lobby and sat her down on the couch. "Mia, listen to me," he said, trying to wipe some of her tears away. "I'm going to be right back. Stay right here, all right? Don't move."

He left her there, looking back once to make sure she really was going to stay put, and went to have his hand bandaged. Between explaining what had happened and receiving an incredulous lecture from the nurse, he should have taken the time to sort out and box up his emotions, but he couldn't. He couldn't get his worry for Mia off his mind for long enough.

He returned to the lobby just in time to see Grossberg waddling towards Mia, wringing his hands in distress.

"Mia! Mia, my dear girl! I saw most of the trial—most bravely done, m'dear—if only he hadn't—"

Cursing inwardly, Diego took several long strides to get between the two before Grossberg could start wringing Mia's hands instead. "Back off, old man."

"But Diego…"

"Look, you're not what she needs right now, all right? Leave it to me."

To be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what Mia did need, but he was positive it wasn't Grossberg's overbearing idea of "comfort."

"…All right, Diego," Grossberg sighed. He turned to Mia. "It isn't your fault, m'dear. Try not to beat yourself up about it so much."

Diego turned to look at Mia as Grossberg waddled off again, to assess how she was doing. Tears were still flowing down her face. Nevertheless, she made an effort to swallow and ask, "How's your hand?"

He held it up to show her the bandage. "It'll be fine. Nurse thinks I'm crazy, though. Mia…" Diego took her hand and coaxed her to her feet. "Look, you took a train here today, didn't you? Can I give you a ride home?"

"…All right."

In the car, she only spoke to give directions; for the rest of the time, she was silent, except for the occasional sniffle. Diego just hoped he could get her home before he ran out of tissues.

"…Thank you, Mr. Armando," she said as they arrived at her apartment. Her voice was cracked. Diego would have been willing to bet that she couldn't have managed a much longer sentence right then.

Mia was about to close the car door when Diego noticed what she'd left on the seat.

"Kitten—" Oops. He'd meant to call her by name, but he'd slipped. She just looked so much like a kitten right now, newborn and helpless, terrified by the world. "—Mia. You forgot something." Why hadn't he realized sooner? Out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen her looking at something during the ride, turning it over in her hands. It hadn't even occurred to him to wonder what it was.

He picked up the gilded attorney's badge from the seat and offered it to her, but she only shook her head, backing away subconsciously.
"N-no, Mr. Armando, I—I can't… I'm not…" The flow of tears from her eyes renewed, she fell silent. Diego was silent for a moment, too, his heart aching.

"Man, Mia, this case really did a number on you, didn't it?" It didn't sound as sympathetic as he'd meant it to sound, but it was better than You're just a wreck right now, huh? He slipped her badge into his pocket to deal with later. "Can I make you some lunch or something, Mia? Just to make your life easier."

"I'm probably not going to eat," Mia replied, shaking her head wearily. "I really don't feel well—"

"Now I know I have to make you something," Diego said firmly. "If you don't eat, you won't even want to get out of bed tomorrow." …Not that I can guarantee you'll want to if you do eat…

In a different mental state, Mia probably would have objected, but it was clear that she was too spent to protest now. She just nodded and said, "All right."

"Good girl. Just let me park."

Mia led him up to her apartment. It was fairly small, but the minimalistic, oriental decorations suited it and kept it from seeming cramped. Of course, Diego hardly paid any attention to that; he really was watching Mia as she moved about the apartment like a zombie, performing the "home from work" sort of actions she probably performed every day: Coat on coat hanger. Briefcase on the coffee table. Check answering machine—

You have one unheard message. First unheard message from 122-7506, sent February 16th at 9:45 A.M.

"Hey, sis, it's Maya, just calling to wish you good luck on your first trial! I guess you're already at the courthouse. Anyway, I know you'll do great. Call me later to tell me how it goes! I love you!"

End of message.

The answering machine beeped, and Diego glanced at Mia. The waterworks were back in full force.

"Your sister?" he asked, hoping to distract her a bit. Mia nodded. "Younger?" She nodded again. "How old?"

"Twelve," Mia said between sobs. Diego winced inwardly. He couldn't imagine having to tell a bubbly twelve-year-old that a client had committed suicide.

"She seems really sweet."

Mia nodded again. "She is. She—"

The phone rang. Mia just stared at it, but Diego checked the caller I.D. "…It's your sister."

Mutely, Mia nodded.

"Are you going to…?"

"You answer it," she whispered helplessly. Shrugging, Diego hit the speakerphone button.

"You've reached Mia Fey's apartment. This is Diego Armando speaking."

"Hey, sis, it's Maya—wait, who are you?" came the voice from the other end. It was the same voice as from the message—the voice of Mia's little sister.

"Diego Armando. I'm a lawyer. I work with your sister."

There was silence for a moment as the girl processed that statement. Then she asked, "The one who calls her 'kitten' and drinks a lot of coffee?"

Diego nearly laughed as a flush crept into Mia's face. "Yep, that's me."

"Why are you there? Is Sis there with you?"

What, did she think he just broke in? "She's here; I was going to make her some lunch. You're on speakerphone, so she can hear you."

"Oh! Hi, Sis! How was the trial?"

Mia choked on a sob as her sister asked the question.

"Sis?!" Obviously, Maya heard the sob. "Sis, what's wrong?"

Mia was in no state to explain. "Do you want me to tell her?" Diego asked softly, holding her shoulder. She nodded.

Diego paused to get his words in order before starting to speak. "Maya, your sister did very well today. Really well. She would have won. But…" He found himself hesitating. When was the last time he'd dealt with a twelve-year-old, anyway? What grade was that in school? He had no reference point to guess at this girl's maturity level, her emotional state. And to tell her that her older sister had seen someone commit suicide…

"But what?" Maya pressed, oblivious.

"Her client… drank poison in the middle of the trial," he said gently.

Maya gave a dramatic gasp. "You mean the real killer killed him to keep him from talking?!"

"No. …Well, not exactly." It had been the real killer's fault, Diego thought sourly, and he had to swallow and take a deep breath to chase the growl out of his voice before continuing. "Maya… He drank the poison on purpose."

There was silence from the other end for a moment.

"S-Sis? Is that true?"

"Yes," Mia managed to choke out.

Urgently, Maya said, "Sis, I'm coming over there right now, okay? I'll bring us some burgers. Mr. Armando, do you want one?"

"…Sure."

"I'll be right over. J-just hang on until then, okay, Sis?"

Maya hung up the phone and Diego hit the speakerphone button again to turn it off. "Your sister's a strong girl," he said to Mia.

Mia nodded and sat down at her table. Diego remained standing, though, his eyes surreptitiously roaming the kitchen. Suddenly, Mia laughed—a shaky laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "The cupboard next to the fridge," she said.

Was he that easy to figure out? Diego opened the indicated cupboard, and sure enough, he found what he'd been searching for: a coffee machine and some coffee. "…Thanks, Mia."

He started the wonderful little machine up and turned back to Mia. She had her head buried in her arms, but she was chuckling. Well, fine. If Diego's coffee obsession managed to shake her depression, then he had no problem with being laughed at.

Mia's chuckling subsided just as the first cup was ready. She didn't take her head off the table, though, and she sighed heavily as Diego took his first sip. Inwardly, he sighed, too.

…He still had her badge in his pocket. He took it out then and placed it on the table in front of her.

She raised her eyes to see what it was, then ducked into her arms again. "Mr. Armando, please… stop it."

"You're a lawyer, Mia," Diego said fiercely. "And you have the potential to be a very good one. Today's trial was unfortunate, but—"

"Unfortunate?" Mia's head shot up, and she looked at Diego in disbelief. "My client killed himself because I forced him to testify, and you say it's unfortunate? If only I'd had the sense to take it more slowly, or tried something else…"

"You did what you had to in order to strive for the truth," Diego told her evenly. "You couldn't have known he would do what he did."

"It doesn't matter if I could have known! I was reckless with him, with his feelings… It's my fault he killed himself!"

Mia buried her face in her arms again, her shoulders shaking, but Diego was too frustrated to be patient any longer. "I really wish you'd stop saying that, Mia," he said, an edge to his voice. "If what happened in the courtroom today was anyone's fault, then it was the fault of that smiling, red-haired bitch. It is not the fault of the woman who trusted her client even more than he trusted himself."

Mia raised her face to look at him, tears glistening on both cheeks. "But—"

"Don't 'but,' me! God damn it, Mia, why is this so hard to understand? Terry Fawles' death is not your—"

"Stop yelling at my sister!"

Diego was cut off suddenly by a blow to the head from behind. He turned around in surprise to see a girl in pink and violet robes glowering at him and holding what appeared to be a bag of hamburgers.

"After what she's been through today, the last thing Sis needs is some weird guy coming into her apartment and shouting at her! If you think I'm gonna make you a burger after that, you've got another lump coming!"

Isn't it normally "another thought coming"? Diego wondered. But he touched the back of his head. A lump indeed. "That did hurt. Those are some rock-solid burgers."

"They're still frozen, dummy!" She glared at him as if she was still expecting something. Nonplussed, he raised an eyebrow until Maya raised the burgers threateningly. "What are you waiting for? Get out!"

"Maya," Mia said in gentle rebuke. Maya's expression softened instantly as she looked towards her sister.

"Sis…" She ran to her sister and threw her arms around her. "It's gonna be okay, all right?"

Diego watched the two of them embrace. Mia's face was more relaxed than it had been all morning.

This… was what Mia needed right now.

He polished off the last of the coffee he'd made and set the mug in the sink. "Thanks for the coffee, Mia. …Sorry for imposing on you."

"Don't mention it," she said softly over Maya's shoulder.

For a moment, he thought about asking her if she'd be at the office tomorrow, but she probably didn't even know the answer to that yet.

"See you later, Mia."