A/N: I don't own Law and Order or any of it's characters. I am excited to see Connie return on Law and Order: LA.

"Michael, just stop," Connie told Cutter. She said Michael just to make sure she got his full attention. He was pushing it just too far again. Mike had done plenty of close calls in his career. Telling police officers he had a warrant when he didn't, manipulating witnesses, and almost lost his law license once.

"You are required to give that evidence to the defendant," Connie explained.

"Only if it's exculpatory," Cutter replied. "That witness wasn't on their medication that day. The whole story isn't reliable. That's why Lupo and Bernard didn't follow her story."

"I've been with you for how many years now, Mike?" Connie asked.

"Four years now."

"I've seen you do things that I couldn't believe a prosecutor would do, but I've always trusted that you were doing it for the right reasons. I'll follow you down, but I won't go that far. Not this time."

"Connie," Cutter started to say, but wasn't sure where to go with it. "I don't…can't have you leave."

"Can't?" Connie asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Let's go get something to drink," Cutter said, ignoring the question. "When I turn that evidence over, the case is lost. So, let's just cut our losses here."

"I'll meet you down there in about half an hour," Connie replied.

"Okay," Mike shrugged his shoulders. He walked out of his office a defeated man. That didn't happen often.

Connie sat down in Mike's chair after he left. It still smelled like him and she let her mind wander, which she had been doing too much of recently. She knew that Mike was attracted to her. She noticed his little throw away comment about how he would have had a chance with her when she was younger and not so pretty.

But she loved his passion. The things he did, not to win, but for justice, where incredible. She had been on the receiving end of his passion a couple of times. He used her beauty to influence the jury. He battled her when legal-aid was on strike. But working side by side she saw how intense Michael Cutter could be.

Connie still remembered Mike throwing everything on the line against Cedric Stuber. The wild look in his eyes when he turned to her, the yelling, and threatening. "You can have my license," she remembered him saying. She loved that damn the torpedoes attitude.

She had been in a bit of dry spell recently. It was hard to believe, but if guys weren't intimidated by her looks then they were of her job.

Letting her mind wander, she fantasized about Mike a few times, experiencing his intensity focused solely on her. Would he be strong and fierce? Slow and tender? How would he take control? She even thought about taking control of Mike and turning him into her little sex toy. She knew how well his tongue worked in an argument; she wondered if it could do other things that well, too.

She snapped out her thoughts and collected herself. A time like this was the time to take a chance. They had no chance at winning the case and losing affected Mike deeply. It was like a shot to his soul that he would lose. Connie had just the idea to cheer him up. She had a little time to get ready before she had to be at the bar.


Mike had ordered a scotch and was into his second one when Connie had arrived. Mike didn't notice right away. His head was focused solely on the drink in front of him. He noticed when she sat down and looked up. He smiled to see her.

The bar was a more upscale bar, geared towards wealthier clients. It wasn't the dark lit bars that Jack would be found at. The lighting was dim and more romantic than a regular bar. They also had the good scotch that Mike liked. He was seated a table for two.

Connie looked like she did at the office, a smart suit jacket and a business skirt, but the skirt was a little higher than usual. Showing off a little more leg than Connie usually showed.

"So, you finish what needed to be done?" Mike asked.

Not yet, Connie thought to herself. "Yes, I'm glad it's out of the way."

"Something for you miss?" the waiter asked, coming back to the table when he saw Connie arrive.

"Yes, I'll have a glass of Grenache," she ordered.

"Wine?" Cutter asked. "Special occasion?"

"No, Mike," Connie said, a little teasingly. "I drink wine. I like Grenache. It tastes a little like raspberries."

The waiter quickly returned with the order and Connie raised her glass in the air, preparing a toast.

"To us," Connie said.

"What for?" Mike asked. "It's not like we're going to win this case."

"Just us, Mike. How about to four years?"

"To four years," he replied. They clinked their glasses together and took a sip.

"I do have a question for you, Mike," Connie said, leaving a pause, to let Mike allow it and to show him the importance of it.

"Yes?" Mike responded, not sure he wanted to hear it. A pause that long meant it was big. Usually that was when they wanted to leave and make him feel good about it by asking if it was okay. It never mattered what he said, their mind was already made up.

"When you went after Cedric Stuber, was that because of what he said, or what he said about me?"

There was a pause there and it was Connie's turn to be uncomfortable. Have I read Mike wrong? She questioned herself. Watching, waiting, wondering, was all Connie could do.

"I refused to let Mr. Stuber try to belittle someone of your accomplishments just because you're Hispanic, with his vile filth. You deserve everything that you have because you've earned them."

Connie smiled at that. She knew he was defending her, but just having him say it, now she knew she could get him that worked up. She took another sip of her wine and relaxed for a little while.


"Thanks for the drink," Mike said, as they left the bar together.

"I knew it would help lift your spirits," Connie replied. It was now or never. "Mike, do you want to come over?"

His eyes nearly jumped out of his skull. Mike never thought that Connie would ask him that. Mike composed himself, thinking that he was reading more into that he should.

"Sure," he replied, ready for whatever paperwork that needed to be done.


The cab ride to Connie's apartment was filled with uncomfortable silence. They entered the apartment and Connie took over her overcoat and hung it up on the coat hook.

"I'm going to get a glass of water," Connie said. "You want anything?"

"No, thank you."

Connie walked into kitchen and Mike walked around the living room. He saw the TV, the sofa and chair. The coffee table was glass with black trim. He looked at her book case. It was filled with all kinds of books. There were thrillers, mysteries, legal, and classics. One Hundred Years of Solitude looked well worn.

Connie came back into the living room and saw Mike looking over her bookshelf. To Connie, it looked like Mike was studying it, looking for a clue to Connie Rubirosa.

"What are you looking at?" Connie asked Mike.

"Just seeing what you like to read," he replied. "You can tell a lot about a person by what they read."

"Really?" Connie questioned, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"Oh yeah. Mysteries tend to be thinkers, horror is people who like the adrenaline of being scared, and classics tend to be the scholarly or pretentious type."

"What do mine say about me?"

"You seem to have a little of everything, although I noticed that One Hundred Years of Solitude seems to the most read."

"So, what are you insights?"

"What I see, is a smart, sophisticated, intelligent woman. Although this," Mike holds up One Hundred Years of Solitude. "This seems to be out of place."

"What makes you say that?"

"It's the story of one of the most selfish, egocentric families in literature. Their solitude is of their own making. That doesn't fit with you. You love everything about your family. You can't wait to be a mother. You are one of the most giving and caring people I know. You always think of others before yourself. So I ask you, why do you read this book?"

Connie sits down on the sofa, not sure she wants to bear her soul to Mike. She wanted to have sex with him, but he was getting closer than she thought he would. Connie found that she wasn't fighting it. In fact, she wanted that.

"You know it's funny," Connie started. "I live in a city with 8 million people, some of the best arts, sports, theater, anything you could want. I have a job that I love and I come home and I'm alone. You talk about my family, but I hardly ever see them. You're the closest thing I have to family."

Connie motioned for Mike to sit next to him. She looked at him in the eye, ready to go for broke. "Mike, I want us to be together."

Mike was absolutely shocked by the news. A bomb was dropped on him. He never expected Connie to say that and he was bursting inside with happiness.

"I don't want you think…" Connie started, but Mike leaned over and kissed her. He kissed her fiercely and took control. His tongue demanded entrance and Connie gave it. Mike was in full control, just like Connie thought he might be. They broke apart for air and Connie collected her thoughts.

"This isn't going to be some fling, Connie," Mike told her. "I've felt strongly for you for a long time. And when I commit, I commit one hundred percent."

Now Connie swallowed hard, knowing Mike's intensity. She tried to regain control of the situation. She put her legs into Mike's lap.

"Mike, do you like my legs?" she asked.

"Excuse me," Mike stammered.

"A lot of men do," Connie said, rub her hand up her own legs from ankle to thigh. "Do you?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Did you notice anything about them that's different today?"

"You're wearing pantyhose." He slid his hands over Connie's black, silk encased legs.

"No, not pantyhose, Mike," Connie explained, pulling her skirt up a little higher to show Mike the tops of her stockings. "These are stockings. I think they make my legs look even better, don't you?"

"You don't need anything to look better."

Connie undid the buttons of her suit jacket. Underneath was only a black, lace bra.

"Do you like?"

Mike couldn't answer.

"Say something, Mike."

"I can't really help it; my tongue's all tied in knots."

"Really?" Connie asked, smiling. "I've silenced the great Mike Cutter. I didn't think that could happen to such a talented tongue."

"Oh, you want to see a talented tongue."

Mike kissed Connie again. Connie kissed back with all of her own passion. They battled each other for control, both too dominant to give in. Again they broke, but Mike moved down Connie's neck, to the hollow spot in her neck, and down to her collarbone. He placed kisses everywhere he went.

Mike wrapped his arms around Connie and pulled her near to him. He kissed slowly down her chest. He reached his arms under Connie's suit jacket and undid her bra. He pulled the shoulder straps down and let it fall.

"You're so beautiful, Connie," he told her, reaching out of cup her breasts. They filled his hand perfectly. He flicked his thumbs across her nipples and Connie gasped.

"Sensitive, I see," Mike said, playing with them a little more before licking and swirling around them with his tongue.

"Oh, Mike," Connie moaned. He was doing things she didn't expect. She was amazed at how quickly he picked up on that she liked her nipples played with. Mike moved down, kissing all the way. He swirled his tongue in her bellybutton.

Mike reached the waist of her skirt. He looked up to Connie, asking with his eyes for permission. Connie stood up and unzipped the back of her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Connie was left standing in front of Mike in nothing but her black stockings and black lace panties.

Connie sat back down next to Mike and Mike quickly pulled her legs up so she was lying down. He pushed them apart and slid Connie's panties to the side. He quickly licked at Connie, quickly and firmly.

"Oh, Mike," she moaned again and again. He began to suck her clit, swirling his tongue around it, but never touching it. The feelings were amazing and Connie didn't know what to do. She was moaning and enjoying every minute of it.

Mike began to firmly lick her clit. Connie gasped and moaned, her breathing becoming fast and shallow. When Mike slid a finger into her, it was almost too much. He soon added another and was pumping away and continuing to lick her. Soon Connie felt herself clench as she began to orgasm.

Mike didn't stop the entire time. When Connie came down, he took his fingers out of her and licked her juices off.

"You taste so sweet, Connie," he told her. Connie quickly sat up and kissed him, tasting herself on his lips.

"You have far too much on, Mike," she said. Connie ripped Mike's shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Mike loosened his tie and threw it somewhere. Connie did the same with his shirt.

Connie pulled his undershirt over his head and began to kiss all over Mike's chest. She ran her nails down his back, loving the firmness of Mike. He wasn't ripped, but he was solid. She like a man to be firm, so different from her softness. She reached down to feel Mike and was amazed at how hard he was.

"What have you been hiding from me?" she asked him teasingly. Connie made quick work of his belt and soon pulled his pants and underwear down. She licked Mike's dick from base to head and watched Mike shudder. She smiled because she loved having that affect on him.

"Connie," was all Mike could say when she swallowed all of him. She sucked him, massaging him with her tongue. She saw Mike didn't look at her, instead he kept his eyes shut, focusing on the pleasure she was giving him. Connie soon let Mike's dick out of her mouth and stroked him. Mike regained himself.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," Mike said, lifting Connie up and carrying her to the bedroom. Gently, Mike set Connie on the bed and pulled her now soaked panties off and flung them away.

Mike slowly entered Connie, taking his time and setting a slow pace. Connie moaned, but needed something more. Like reading her mind, Mike began to move faster and harder. Mike was filling Connie in ways she had never been. He fit just right into her.

"Mike, Mike, Mike," Connie chanted, feeling each thrust in her. She was building for another orgasm and then Mike reached down and began to rub her clit. Connie's eyes flew open at the pleasure. When the orgasm hit, Connie grabbed onto Mike. She bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming. She felt Mike explode into her and finally lay back down when she was came down.

"I think that's going to leave a mark," Mike said, laying next to her.

"Sorry," Connie sheepishly apologized. They lay in silence before Connie spoke again.

"You know Mike, I was wrong. I'd follow you anywhere."

"Me too," Mike replied, kissing her. "I was wondering though, would you wear this to the office one night?"

"Mike!" Connie said, shocked.

"Forget it," Mike said, a little disappointed. He rolled over to get some sleep. He felt Connie's hand on his chest and then she whispered in his ear.

"One day, Mike."

The End