A/N: Wow. Forgive me, folks. It has been more than a year since I wrote an L&O story. But I just couldn't get "For the Defense" out of my head. Such a fantastic episode, in such a fantastic season. I've been working on it off and on for the last 3 weeks or so between papers and exams, but now that my college career is almost done, I just had to finish it. It didn't exactly turn out as I'd intended, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. As always, please leave a review to let me know how I did.

Disclaimer: Belongs to Dick Wolf, not me. I'm a poor soon-to-be college grad. Don't sue.


The sound of rustling papers mingled with the constant clacking of fingers on the computer keyboard. Stacks of paper littered the carpeted floor, occupying the narrow spaces between the dozens of boxes stuffed into the corners. One Hogan Place was completely dark, save for one lamp in the middle of the lacquered wooden table giving its light for two pairs of weary eyes.

Connie stared out the window, listening to the cacophony of rain and wind outside. Her eyes followed the drops of water as they slid down the window, tracing unique patterns on the pane of glass before meeting the window sill. It was the only sound in the room, save Mike's fingers meeting the keyboard of his laptop. They'd been working for hours on motions and case law, researching precedents and rulings and arguments from hundreds of sources.

And neither had said more than necessary.

It was odd for there to be no conversation between them. Usually they talked about the weather, about the Yankees, about anything and everything. But tonight they were silent.

Part of that was her own fault, she supposed. The case… Marcus… things were difficult for both of them for the last few weeks.

Difficult. That was putting it mildly.

First she'd been shot at, and though she'd convinced Mike she was okay, the echo of that gun firing and the whine of the bullet going past her ear haunted her dreams for days. And if that wasn't enough, the case was blown to hell before it got started. To have her bad decisions and lapses in judgment aired for the entire world to see was humiliating and degrading. And to have Marcus tell Mike that she'd slept with him all those years ago, without so much as a word to her, was infuriating.

Before this case, she'd thought she'd put it all behind her. She was content to let the past be the past. But then this happened, and everything changed.

Marcus was a mistake. She'd always sworn she would never be that woman, the one who uses her body to get to the top of her profession. And while that wasn't her intent when it happened, she couldn't help the way it made her feel. And that was the real reason she'd ended it with Marcus, though the fact that he was a cad certainly helped her decision. She didn't want to be that woman.

She couldn't be that woman. She didn't have it in her.

Sighing softly, she glanced at Mike. His blonde head was bent over a book, lost in his own world. An unbidden smile touched her lips. He really is a good man, she thought. The way he reacted to the revelation of her… problems was one of shock and disbelief. She knew Marcus caught him off-guard when he said that they'd… slept together. But he tried to gently deal with it, timidly and respectfully broaching the subject while prepping her in his office for testimony.

Mike and Marcus were two opposite sides of the spectrum. Both were brilliant attorneys. Both had the unique ability of making people see what they wanted to see. But while Mike was manipulative within the courtroom, Marcus was manipulative outside as well. And while Mike wanted to win with all his heart, he would've never stooped as low as to murder a man who hurt his case. She'd learned at least that much about him in the three years she'd worked with him.

There was a time, however, when she'd thought that maybe Marcus and Mike weren't so different. Mike was abrasive, corrosive, manipulating, and overly ambitious when he was first paired with her. But he changed, became someone she could be… well, attracted to. He was gentle and caring. He felt deeply for their victims, for those who couldn't speak for themselves. He noticed when cases get to her, and he treated her as an equal.

Marcus never treated her as an equal. And that had always infuriated her.

She knew Mike was attracted to her. He'd never kept that hidden. But back in Jack's office there had been a look in those deep blue eyes, something she'd never seen from him before. It was a timid, almost hopeful glance. As if he wanted to see what she thought about the prospect of working with him day and night until the motions were resolved.

If she was truly honest with herself, she actually looked forward to it.

And that prospect scared her half to death.

She didn't want to be that woman again. And she was afraid she was well on her way there, because if she was totally honest with herself, she was attracted to him too. To his smile, to his eyes. To his show of arrogance that hid the almost vulnerable man underneath.

"You okay over there?"

A familiar baritone broke her out of her thoughts, and she startled. Her eyes met his, those blue-gray orbs that could somehow peer through her to her soul. She could tell that the last week had bothered him immensely. His eyes always betrayed what he was thinking, at least to her. Just like they had in Jack's office and in his office just before she testified.

"Connie?"

Mike's voice startled her again. This time she shook her head, clearing those thoughts from her brain. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. A small smile quirked the corner of her mouth. "Sorry."

He leaned back in his chair, studying her quietly. Suddenly the room was awfully hot, and she resisted the urge to look away from his intense gaze. She tried to tell herself that it was just the heater kicking on rather than the way he looked at her. "Maybe we should call it a night," he suggested softly. "You've had kind of a rough week."

"We need to get these done," she motioned to the pile of blue-backed papers scattered across the tabletop. "I'm fine. I promise."

"Okay. How 'bout some coffee then?"

"I'll need to put on a fresh pot." She made a move to get up, but so did he. Her eyes met his again. That same timid look darkens his gaze, and she feels a familiar knot form in her stomach.

This time when he spoke, his voice was nearly a whisper. "Why don't we go to the coffee shop down the street? Their stuff is better than the sludge we have here."

She couldn't resist. "Well, better than the stuff you make," she teased.

He smiled, revealing his dimples, and the knot in the pit of her stomach tightened. She tried to ignore it. "Don't you think that joke's getting a little old?"

The quirk at the corner of her mouth transformed into a full-fledged grin as she watched him snatch his coat from the back of his chair. "Never."

His grin widened too. Always the gentleman, he opened the door for her. Brushing past him, she rewarded him with a small smile. They stopped by her tiny cubicle so she could grab her umbrella and coat. They were silent once they stepped onto the elevator. Right now, words weren't necessary. Or even welcome.

Rain still poured from the sky in torrents when they stepped out of the DA's office, and the temperature had dropped several degrees after sunset. Shivering against the cold wind, she swiftly opened the umbrella. When she glanced at Mike, he simply flipped up the collar of his coat. Her eyes narrowed. "Where's your umbrella, Mike?"

He shrugged. "In my office. Forgot it."

Part of her knew that what she was about to say wasn't necessarily so smart. And it definitely wouldn't help that knot in the pit of her stomach. But she couldn't let him get soaked. As much as he annoyed her sometimes, she couldn't bear the thought of him getting sick. So she tilted her head to the side and held out her umbrella. "Get in."

"Connie – "

"Don't be a stubborn ass."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Yes, ma'am."

Connie rolled her eyes mockingly at him as he stepped closer to her. Together they stepped out into the deluge. Even though it was nearly midnight the traffic rolled by, kicking up waves of water along the sidewalk. They walked quickly and wordlessly, huddled together under her relatively small umbrella, fighting against the biting wind. Mike's head was bent next to hers, the steam from his breath mingling with her breath, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. This was the closest she'd been to him in a long time, so close she could smell his cologne. It wasn't a heavy scent, but it was just enough to catch her senses. Her shoulder brushed against his, and suddenly the wind wasn't quite so chilly.

Stop it, Connie, she admonished herself silently.

The Coffee Bean was an all-night joint just a few blocks from the DA's office. It was a common stop for Connie and Mike when they were working late nights or had to be in court early in the morning. A cozy little place, the mom-and-pop place was homily decorated with tables and chairs in one corner and couches and easy chairs on the other side.

A bell above the door tinkled merrily when Mike opened the door for her. Connie took a deep breath, inhaling the bitter scent of roasting coffee beans. The barista greeted them with a wide smile. They placed their orders – a large coffee with espresso for Mike and a large vanilla latte for Connie – and waited at the counter while the girl expertly got to work. Moments later, warm cups in hand, they slid into one of the booths in the back corner.

Connie sipped the steaming brew and sighed, grateful for the warmth spreading through her body. She glanced at Mike, who was staring out the window at the steadily falling rain, which she hoped would soon become snow. Conversation had been at a minimum for them since the trial. And that bothered her. "How's the Furman motion coming?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"It's coming," Mike sighed. "Thankfully it looks like Woll managed to make a pretty good case on this one."

"No missing witnesses, I suppose. Thank God for small favors." Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

Her partner gave her a wan smile. "I meant to tell you: You did a fantastic job on the stand the other day."

She returned his smile. "Thanks Mike."

"It took every ounce of strength I had to keep from laughing at the expression on Woll's face when you said he wasn't that memorable."

Connie chuckled. "Not exactly one of my best moments."

"Oh, come on. Admit it; you felt a little satisfaction up there."

"Never! Not one bit." She stared at him for a long moment until the corner of her mouth finally twitched. "Okay, maybe just a little." He grinned, and she couldn't help but smile too. "Although the look on his face then wasn't quite as good as the glare he gave you when you got in the attacks on Paige Regan and Maggie Hayes."

His grin slowly faded, replaced by an expression of discomfort. He rubbed the back of his neck. "About that, Connie."

She waved her hand in the air. "I get why you did it, Mike. At the time I thought about jumping over the bar and strangling you –" a soft humph came from his direction – "but you gave the jury the chance to hear just how much of a son of a bitch he is."

"Still, I'm sorry."

At the penitent look on his face, she smiled. "It's okay, Mike."

The corner of his mouth tilted in a half-smile when his eyes met hers. Suddenly he averted his gaze, fiddling with the rim of his cup. "Did you?" he asked quietly.

Her brow furrowed. "Did I what?"

He raised his eyes. "Love him."

Connie was taken aback. She wasn't sure if she wanted to have this discussion with him. It was so easy to turn it into something that she wasn't ready to confront. But there he was, gazing at her with that same look in his blue eyes that he had in Jack's office. He just wanted to know. Nothing more, nothing less.

After several long moments of silence, he looked down again. "You know what, never mind. That was crossing the line."

She shook her head. "No, Mike, it's okay. I… I wanna answer." Her eyes fell to the table. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before raising her gaze to meet his. "I don't know, honestly. I might've, at one point."

"What happened?"

Connie shrugged her shoulders. "I was young, driven. He was… charming. It just… happened. Like I said, it's life."

"I would…" his voice trailed off, and he cast his gaze onto an invisible spot on the table. "Why did you break it off?"

She laughed derisively. "I came to my senses. Saw him for the jerk he is. The charm he had couldn't quite cover up his character flaws."

"Seems to be a common problem among men," he mumbled before looking up at her with a ghost of a smile on his lips. She smiled, knowing he was talking about himself.

"Yeah, I guess so," she answered.

He leaned forward a little in his seat, reaching his hands across the table until they almost touched hers. "You know this hasn't changed my opinion of you. Not in the least. You're still the same competent, intelligent attorney you've always been."

At his words, Connie smiled. Reaching out on impulse, she gently touched the back of his hand with her fingertip. "Thanks, Mike."

Slowly he removed his hand from the middle of the table, letting it rest against his coffee cup. They sat in silence for a moment, only broken by the soft drumming of the rain against the window. Connie sipped her coffee, thinking about their conversation. Honestly it was good to know that Mike didn't think less of her. As much as she hated to admit it, his opinion of her was important to her. It always had been. She wanted him to think that she was a competent attorney, that she could make a contribution to his cases.

"Listen, Connie," he said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. "I – I think we need to clear something up."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and leaned forward. "I'm listening."

Mike sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's about us."

"Us?" she echoed.

"Yeah. Us."

He blew out a deep breath and rested his elbows on the table. Her curiosity amplified, she watched him closely. She'd never seen him quite so nervous. Her heart leapt for some reason she couldn't quite identify.

"Look, I don't quite know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it," he said. Connie leaned forward almost imperceptibly. "I like you, Connie. I'm attracted to you. A lot."

That wasn't much of a surprise. She'd known that since the day she met him. "Mike," she started, but he held up a hand.

"Let me finish." He inhaled deeply. "But, Connie, after this case… A long time ago, I resigned myself to the fact that nothing would ever happen between us. Not just because you're out of my league. Which you are."

A smile touched the corner of her lips.

"It's because you and I have a working relationship. A working friendship. And I like that we're friends."

"I do, too, Mike," she interjected quickly.

He smiled gently. "After this case… and Woll… I realized that starting something with me would call into question everything you've ever worked for. You're a brilliant attorney, Connie. I won't be responsible for ruining your future."

She looked down at the table, not quite sure what to say. That knot in her stomach twisted, and she felt a pang in her heart that felt almost… crestfallen.

"I'm sorry if I said something out of line. I just – I wanted it to be out in the open, you know. No secrets between friends. So that way, you know how I feel. And you know that I'm not going to put you in that position."

She lifted her gaze so that her eyes met his, reading the sincerity in the blue irises. She smiled, albeit a little wistfully. "Thank you. For being honest with me."

He nodded, and for a moment she considered simply leaving it at that. But she couldn't, not after the gentle way he'd treated her, not after that expression in his eyes. He deserved to know.

"And, um…" she began, glancing down at the table, "since we're being honest, there's something I have to tell you." Here he leaned forward just a little, and she smiled. "I'm attracted to you, too, Mike."

It was the first time she'd ever said it aloud, and it nearly knocked her over. Admitting it to herself was one thing; saying it in a coffee shop to Mike Cutter was something completely different. But in a way, it was almost liberating.

His eyebrows shot up, and his jaw dropped. "You are?"

Connie nodded. "Yeah, I am. But I… appreciate your thoughtfulness. And after Marcus, I can't do that again." He nodded resignedly, and she reached for his hand again. "If we were in another place, if it wasn't about work – "

"I know, Connie." He squeezed her fingers and smiled. "I know. And I can live with that."

Slowly she nodded. "I can too."

They sat there silently for several moments, fingers lightly entwined. Just as it was in Mike's office, they didn't need words.

Suddenly a flicker of white caught the corner of Connie's eye, and she glanced outside. Big, fat, white flakes twisted and twirled toward the ground, covering the sidewalk in a thick, white blanket. "It's snowing," she said softly.

Mike twisted in his seat to look out the window. A genuine smile spread over his face. "Sure is. That's beautiful."

They watched the peacefully falling snow together for a moment. Connie stole a glance at her boss – her partner. He really was a good man. Because of him, she didn't have to be that woman. He was more concerned about her reputation than his own feelings. And it felt good to be held in such high regard.

His voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. "We should probably get back to the office before we get snowed in here."

Connie took a deep breath and nodded. "Probably."

They stood up together. Mike slid his arms into the sleeves of his coat before helping Connie with hers. They tossed their empty cups into the trashcan by the door. The bell above the door tinkled happily again as Mike pushed it open, holding it for her as she brushed past him.

She forsook the umbrella this time, allowing the snow to gently dust them in white. They shuffled down the sidewalk, her hands stuffed deep in her pockets. She nearly stiffened when she felt his hand softly apply a little pressure on the small of her back. But when she glanced at him, he didn't seem to notice. So they continued walking until they were right in front of the DA's office and his arm seemed to draw her closer into his side.

She was so busy trying to dissect his actions that she failed to see the thin patch of ice covering the sidewalk, a remnant of the rain from earlier. Her left foot hit the ice and slipped out from under her. She lurched backward, arms flailing as she tried to maintain her balance…

Until she fell right into a pair of strong arms.

And that was when she found herself trapped against the firm body of Mike Cutter. His arms wrapped around her, trapping her against his chest. She twisted in his arms, clinging to his coat while she tried to regain her footing.

Then she looked up into his eyes, and it seemed like the City that Never Stops immediately came to a sudden, screeching halt. The deep blue irises captured her, kept her spell-bound. This was the closest she'd ever been to him, and suddenly all she was aware of was the scent of his cologne, the cold snow gently brushing her cheek, and the feel of his firm body beneath her fingers.

A smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He reached out with his finger and gently brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes. Her heart pounded, and a little sigh escaped her lips.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and husky. It sent shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold wind.

Rendered speechless, she just nodded. His finger followed the line of her face to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut, the sensation of his touch making her skin tingle. This shouldn't be happening, she thought. We're friends. Friends. Just friends.

Suddenly he released her, and the moment vanished. Connie opened her eyes with a start just in time to see him stroll toward the door to their office, his back to her and his hands shoved into his pockets. She stared at him for a moment, mouth agape. God, what was she thinking? She'd just told him that she didn't want to start anything with her. Now she wasn't sure her heart rate would ever get back to normal, not as long as she could still feel his arms enveloping her and smell the scent of his cologne. Oh, this was going to drive her insane for a long, long time.

"Connie?"

His voice startled her, and she shook her head slowly. Mike stood at the door, holding it open for her, a curious expression on his face. He motioned toward the door with his free hand. "You coming?"

She glanced back at the road, at the heavily falling snow. Marcus… Mike… She hadn't been willing to give up what she'd achieved for Marcus. But… with Mike…

"Connie?"

She turned her gaze to him, a smile playing at the edge of her lips. Maybe for now she didn't have to be that woman. But just for now. Just for now.

So she nodded and walked toward him. When she reached him, she gently cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand. Then she slipped past him.

For now, friendship was enough. But just for now.