Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and stories belong to NBC and Dick Wolf.
A/N: Post Tango. Just saw this one again and thought of another take on Connie's rage and Mike's guilt. I think this is a hell of a lot better than the one I wrote last summer. I also learned the legalese term voir dire in my law class (squeals in happiness). Also, this is the one episode where I called Mike an asshole. He was an asshole in this episode. Please review. Thanks. Love, Lawabidingchild.
Unnecessary
Mike resurrected his standing position after reflecting on his actions for a moment. He believed that some apologizing was in order. Those long, stubborn legs walked out of his room, giving him a talk-to-the-hand kind of message. He had a feeling that there would be a chance of resurrecting this new friendship after all the initial anger was pulled aside. Strange and untrue feelings fled his body as he turned around and noticed that she had fled the scene of the crime. The courtroom, that is. Voir dire was the worst thing that happened to him in his law career. This voir dire. Connie looked down on him. She now looked at him as a pig. My boss is a pig was probably what was running through her mind when she trampled into his office to rant about how unhappy she was with his actions during the jury selection. And she was right. He did act like a pig. A simple, garden variety, muddy farm pig. That was his actions against Connie. Connie had every right to be mad. He, however, had no right to play her puppet master in front of the jury. He thought that using her sexuality would influence the side to sway from one end to the other. He was dead wrong. No simple repentance for his crime would do anyone justice. He thought that just because she conducted a solo interview, giving in to a male perpetrator/witness, she would be willing. Then when he realized that she was furious about every single thing that happened from the time she was approached by juror number eight in the street, she realized what had happened, and became infuriated. Mike was just unhappy with the resolve of this conflict; if one could call it that.
He noticed his legs were moving. When did that start? One minute he was standing in the hallway and the next minute he was walking the halls of the courthouse, on the way back to his office from the trial. Was he feeling that severe of an amount of guilt? He did parade Connie like a peep show. He did treat her effeminately, and for that he should be guilty. He obeyed the complex laws of the court but ignored the rules of friendship that God worked so hard to put in place. These laws of friendship are so simple, yet he chose to ignore all of them.
Time must have passed by more quickly than he realized. He fished out a reason for this time pass out of his head and came to the conclusion that he was spending all that time thinking. It seemed like only a minute ago that he was walking through the courthouse. Now he found himself strolling down the halls of the District Attorney's office. This was what became of Mike Cutter. He went from striding with happiness at the thought that they might win the trial to feeling guilty of how they won it. He might as well have plead guilty at his own arraignment. Connie would probably never forgive his actions, and he wasn't asking for that. He wasn't going to make an effort to stalk her and be in her face twenty-four-seven until she demonstrated forgiveness. He was going to wait it out. Wait for her to come to him and then see what happens. No doubt that would be soon. Connie was his assistant. They were bound to have a case come up for them to work together. Then again, she could ask for a new boss. That would put a halt to his rash and idiotic decisions. Then he could have a male assistant. Someone he wouldn't butt heads with about cases all the time.
The time began to trickle down to a more believable pace as Mike sat down in his office chair. He had papers scattered all over his desk and had no idea what to do with them. He was debating whether to put them away and go home or busy himself in his work and forget about the days events. Either way, it would certainly put everything into perspective for him and his stupidity. That was for certain. And as much as his shame and guilt pained him, Connie's hurt feelings tugged at his heart. The out of tune heartstrings played a melancholy tune as he looked up to the doorway. He saw an infuriated Connie Rubirosa standing in front of him. She had a look spread across her face that was a mixture between hurt and anger. She was holding a manila folder in her hands, looking as though she'd been waiting there for the last ten minutes until he looked up. That look of contempt riddled her facial features with scorn. He'd never seen that look before, but he knew he deserved it.
Connie was stomping down the courthouse furiously, careful not to aggravate any of the passersby walking on the same plane. Hell, was she even there with them? It was a stunning resentment and anger pusher. She could literally feel the blood pulsing through the veins in her head. It was an uncomfortable feeling. She could get past it once she settled down enough. She shoved the door in front of her and pushed her legs to take her out of the building and back to her office.
The walk to the office wasn't as pleasant as she would have liked it. In fact, it was more of a stress enhancer than a stress reliever. She had the whole time to mull over the events of the trial in her mind, and they just kept agitating her. She shuddered at those thoughts and kept the pace going, not noticing the gradual increase in speed as time passed by. The final straw. The final moment of truth. This was a sham of a jury. This sham was all Mike's fault. He put that bastard juror on the stand and claimed that he thought she could deal with that. It was nice at first, having an admirer, until she realized that that admirer was in the jury. She thought that he was sitting with the spectators. She felt like a fool. She really hit the mark on this one. Mike used her as a jury toy. He used her as a sexuality puppet. That disgusted her. She's a woman, not a toy. What the hell was he thinking?
Connie reached the office, knowing that her legs must have had a mind of their own. She clawed at the tears that were beginning to pool in her eyes and pushed the idea of being Mike's little jury toy out of her mind. She couldn't wait to give him what for.
When she sat down at her desk, she pulled out a drawer and began to search through the contents. She figured that she could work long enough to keep her mind off the day's events. Even so, she could feel the the anger in her head pulsing through the skirts of her mind. She hoped she could focus and take her mind off the day.
It didn't prove easy. She had the file that was pertinent to the case. It was a file she better turn over to him. She'd never live it down if she didn't. It made her unhappy to even think about the possibility that he doesn't feel guilt, remorse, or any emotion of the like for his actions. It proved tough for him to even admit that he was doing the most disgusting thing that any man could come up with. She snatched that file like it would burn a hole in her desk if she didn't take care of it.
Connie found him in his office, searching frantically through papers. She knew he was trying to rid his mind of the latter, but there comes a time in every man's life when he has to face the anger of a female equal. She decided that this was going to be the last time anyone would do this to her. She leaned against the door frame and waited for him to look up. When he did, the look on his face was one she'd never forget.
Mike turned his attention away from the papers he was unsure about dealing with. Connie smirked inside her head. A notion of contempt and dignity in her own right. She strode up to his desk and slapped the folder down. It came down on the desk with a hard slap. She scoffed and turned away, hoping to walk out of this office and away from him. "Connie wait!" he called. She turned around, her arms folded across her chest. She leaned against the wooden door frame that was lining the doorway. Her eyebrow arched in mock anticipation. "I'm sorry."
"Oh really?" she challenged, pushing the envelope in his decision to apologize just a little bit.
"I am, Connie. Really."
Connie scoffed. She couldn't believe him. What kind of man parades a woman in a courtroom like a barbie doll and all of a sudden begs her for forgiveness? "If you're really sorry, then why did you do it in the first place?"
Mike's mouth gaped open for a minute, unsure of how to answer. How would he answer this woman that stands right in front of him and demands an explanation for actions that maybe have none. "You played yourself for Timmy Cerco, I thought it was an act to buy a testimony. But it wasn't. You were just doing your job. I thought we could use you to our advantage when we found a juror that found you attractive. But that was stupid. It was inconsiderate of me, rash of me, and indecent of me. You're not a piece of meat, Connie. You're an intelligent female lawyer and an incredible human being. I had no right to treat you lower than that. It was selfish and stupid. I'm sorry for being an ass and I really hope that you'll come to forgive me and maybe even try to forge a friendship with me. But until then, I'll just have to settle for the actions of an asshole."
Connie was stunned. She couldn't believe that the great Mike Cutter was apologizing. It worked. She was bought. Maybe it was because he was too much like Jack. Jack was one man who would probably apologize like Mike. She just nodded her head and sat down on the chair. "That was a stupid move, Mike. Don't do that again."
"Not planning on it. It was an unnecessary move in the first place."
