Jeff Winger's plan to return to his old life as a master of the legal universe had not gone as planned. His old firm wouldn't take him back, nor did any other firm in the insular Greendale County legal community want him. Worse, news of his disgrace had somehow spread across the entire state of Colorado, and even when he turned his attention to out-of-state firms, the story inevitably came out once they noticed the four-year gap in his employment history. At least the steak dinner at Morty's had been good.
Lacking any better option, Jeff hung out a shingle and set about building a private practice in Greendale County. His office was hardly as glamorous as what he'd been used to, and as a sole practitioner he couldn't afford to avoid the kind of work he found tedious, like bankruptcies and wills, but it paid the bills, and the important thing was that he was back in the courtroom, where he belonged.
Most of his work was before the Greendale County and 23rd Judicial District Courts, but today Jeff was in Denver for an arraignment hearing. Arraignments were the sort of thing he had never had to do in his old job—that's what junior associates were for, to sit around killing time waiting for God knows how long for your case to be announced. But it's not like he had anything more pressing on his plate, and besides, these were important clients. So he waited, and waited, and waited some more, until finally the bailiff announced the appearance of the first of his three clients: "People against Annie Edison!"
Jeff rose smoothly from his seat in the gallery and approached the defendant's table, buttoning his suit jacket as he walked. Looking to his left, he saw Annie being led into the courtroom, looking very small and a little scared. She visibly relaxed on seeing him, and broke into the kind of brilliant grin that never failed to make Jeff's heart skip a beat. It was all he could do to stop himself from leaning down to kiss her as she came to stand beside him, and settled for returning the smile and gently squeezing her hand as she took her place next to him. He turned to look at the prosecutor, a slim Hispanic woman he probably would have tried to nail back in the day, as she read off the charges against Annie—criminal mischief, obstructing a peace officer, resisting arrest, trespass, harassment, and, improbably, menacing—and explained that she had been arrested following a protest outside the Colorado Convention Center, where a WTO Ministerial Conference was being held.
Jeff answered the charges with a plea of not guilty, and argued against the D.A.'s request for bail by pointing out that Annie had no criminal record, was charged only with general misdemeanors, and that her strong ties to the community as a graduate student at University of Denver and a permanent resident of a neighboring jurisdiction made her an unlikely flight risk. The judge agreed, and Jeff was rewarded with a squeal of delight, a warm hug, and a cute little wave as Annie was led off to be processed for release. He fought down the impulse to kiss her goodbye, and turned his attention to his next client: "People against Shirley Bennett!"
Shirley's arraignment was no more complicated than Annie's. Britta's was somewhat more so; given her history as an anarchist billboard vandal and tax scofflaw, the D.A. asked for a fairly high bail, but Jeff convinced the judge to set it lower in exchange for Britta surrendering her passport, which he just happened to have with him. (Knowing something of Britta's history, he had broken into her apartment to retrieve it, just in case.) He handed the passport to the clerk, and indicated that he was prepared to post bail immediately.
As Britta was being escorted out of the courtroom back to the holding area, Jeff stepped across the aisle to talk briefly with the D.A. about getting together to settle the case as quickly as possible, and left the courtroom in search of the cashier's office. Posting bail was as simple as filling in the amount on a blank check he'd obtained from Pierce that morning. He then settled himself into the waiting room outside the prisoner detention area to await his clients' release.
He didn't have long to wait. Having been first arraigned, Annie was the first released, and Jeff wasted no time giving into the impulses he had suppressed while in the courtroom, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her passionately for several long moments. "My hero," Annie said softly, before catching his lips in another brief kiss.
"Anything for you, milady." As Jeff stepped back to kiss Annie's hand, he noticed Shirley standing across the room watching them with obvious affection. "How long have you been here?" he asked with no small amount of surprise.
"Long enough, Smoove B. Now move aside, girl, let me at that man of yours." Annie complied and Shirley swooped in to give Jeff a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Jeffrey. One more night in there and I would've gone all Madea Goes to Jail on some of those other women."
"Darn, I was hoping for more of a Caged Heat sort of scenario," he said, earning a pair of playful slaps on the arm from both women.
"Spare us your fantasies, Winger," said Britta as she walked into the waiting room. "If you knew the first thing about conditions in prisons ..."
Annie stepped in to nip the rant in the bud. "Actually, Jeff is usually the inmate in his prison fantasies." Shirley's startled "oh!" was exactly in unison with Britta's disgusted "ugh."
Jeff, for his part, looked fondly at Annie and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Thanks, honey. Now then, Ma Barker," he said, addressing Britta, "did you learn nothing from our many, many, conversations about protecting Annie's precious virtue? I believe you owe me some testicles."
"Suck it, Winger. It was your girlfriend who got us into trouble."
Annie gave one of her trademark offended gasps, but to Jeff's practiced ear it sounded fake. "Shirley. Care to corroborate?"
Shirley looked nervous. "I don't know, Jeff, Mama always said, 'what happens on ladies' night, stays on ladies' night.'"
"Is Mama helping you with your articles of incorporation?"
"Britta's right," she said quickly. "She was the one who was complaining about corporate repression and Amazon deforestation and whatnot, but it was Annie who said we should go down to the protests."
"We tried to talk her out of it," Britta continued, "but she did, you know, that thing with her eyes ..."
"I do know the thing with her eyes." Jeff turned to look at Annie, trying to look stern but failing miserably. "Well, young lady, do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"I ... it ... seemed like a good idea at the time?"
Jeff chuckled. "Annie, I love you, but you have got to stop trying to live in the moment." Turning to Britta and Shirley, he said, "you guys think about how she can make it up to you and I'll tell you everything I know about counteracting the Disney eyes."
All three women cracked up. "Since when do you know anything about that?" asked Shirley.
Britta nodded in emphatic agreement. "You are pretty whipped," she said. "And look, I'm all for revenge, but I'm a little more concerned with the half dozen criminal charges against me."
Jeff waved his hand dismissively. "Pff. Misdemeanors. I'll talk to the prosecutor, get her to accept a plea on a single charge. Probation, a fine, maybe a little community service. Nothing to worry about. Come on, let's go get some lunch." He extended his crooked arm to Annie. "Milady."
Annie gave him another brilliant smile as she took his arm. "Milord."
Britta and Shirley fell into step alongside Jeff and Annie as they headed for the exit. "By the way, Britta," Jeff said with a wicked expression on his face, "Pierce paid your bail. Which means you're going to have to stop avoiding his dinner parties."
"Ugh. You know what, just drop me back at the jail."