Disclaimer: I don't own/nor do I claim to own any of the characters from Blind Justice.

Note: Takes place after "Doggone". Short one-shot.

Misery Loves Company

Cool rain poured from the sky, loud wet drops splashing upon Jim Dunbar's trenchcoat-clad shoulders. He sat on a bench not too far from his home, his trusty seeing-eye dog Hank sitting loyaly at his side. Another argument between him and his wife Christie had sent Jim out of the apartment that night, off to the bench where he travelled several times to contemplate whatever was on his mind, or just sit and sulk. He wasn't one to feel sorry for himself, if that was the case he would have never tried so hard to get back to being a detective, and instead would have been stagnant, unmoving, merely existing.

Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Jim closed his unseeing eyes behind his dark sunglasses and let the flowing raindrops drip from short strands of light hair hanging down over his forehead. He felt a furry, wet muzzle against his hand while Hank nudged him, then sat up and smiled faintly at the German Shepard's soft whine. Sometimes Jim felt that his dog was the only one that truly understood him.

Tilting his head slightly, Jim's brows furrowed when he heard a car pull over not too far away, then the tapping of footsteps on the pavement despite the loud 'pitter patter' of rain. He almost dismissed it as someone just passing by, but it was a bit late for a casual stroll, and the footsteps seemed to slow as they got closer. Stiffening slightly as the footsteps stopped, Jim slowly reached down a hand to grip the handle on Hank's harness. He lifted his chin slightly. "Is someone there?" The detective's voice was calm, a deep, neutral tone sounding from his mouth.

"Hey, Jim.. uh, it's me."

He loosened his grip on his dog's harness at the familiar voice and sat back against the bench. His trenchcoat was nearly soaked through, and his short hair was matted down from the continuous rain fall. "Karen?"

"Yeh," the young woman pulled her own coat tighter about her shoulders and sat down on the watery bench beside him. She tucked a strand of rain-dampened dark hair behind her ear. "What are you doing out here?"

Jim turned in her general direction at his left side and rose an eyebrow, taking off his shades and sticking them in a coat pocket. His eyelashes were soon sparkling faintly with silvery drops of rain.

Karen laughed softly before he could answer. "Yeh, I know. I guess you could ask me the same thing huh?"

Shaking his head slightly, Jim scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows, making a face. "Nah, I wasn't gonna say that."

She almost smiled. "That's okay, I'll tell you." Karen reached out a hand and lightly patted the top of Hank's head, the dog's fur sopping wet. "I was coming to see you."

Jim tilted his head slightly to one side, brows knit together once again. "This late?"

"Yeh," Karen actually did smile this time. Her chocolatey brown eyes drifted to the German Shepard sitting by Jim's leg. It had been a day since the detective nearly lost his faithful pal. "I'm really glad you got Hank back."

Grinning, Jim ruffled the dog's wet fur and scratched behind his ears. He sighed thoughtfully. "Me too." When it was silent for awhile besides the rushing of the rain, he questioned Karen's visit again. "So, is there something you wanted to talk about?" he questioned lowly.

"Nah, not really." She released a quiet laugh. "I guess I just wanted some company."

"Lousy night huh?" Jim guessed with a half-smile.

"Yeh, sorta. You too?" Tucking a strand of damp hair behind her ear, Karen smiled faintly.

He nodded. "Sorta."

"Want to go get a drink?" Karen offered, getting up from the wet bench. She looked up slightly, the quickly-falling raindrops dotting her face. "Get out of this rain?"

Sighing for a moment in thought, Jim stood, grasping the handle of Hank's harness. "Yeh, why not."

-

The noisy bar had Jim's remaining senses on high alert. His head drifted faintly from side to side while he sat with Karen at a small round table, several sounds and voices attracting his attention. Feeling the weight of Hank's side pressed against his foot on the floor, Jim leaned down and pet the dogs head.

"Are you okay?" Karen asked quietly after a long while without speaking.

Jim sat up again. "Yeh, I'm fine," he said lightly, dismissively. Tilting his head down a little, his hand reached forward along the table until he felt his beer bottle. Grasping the bottle, Jim took a lengthy swig before setting it back down. "Listen Karen, about what happened with Nick-"

"Forget it," she interrupted, no bitterness in her voice whatsoever. "He was a jerk." She sighed, smiling tightly. "It wasn't right how you dealt with him before talking to me about it, but I understand why you did what you did."

Raising an eyebrow, Jim almost smiled. "You do?"

"Yeh," Karen replied quietly, taking a sip from her own beer bottle. "You were lookin' out for me like you said. That's what friends do."

Jim seemed a little surprised. He hadn't recalled Karen referring to them as anything besides partners. He cracked a smile and nodded in agreement. "Yeh, friends," he echoed softly.

Suddenly feeling almost uncomfortable, Karen leaned back in her chair, her palms loudly smacking the table more than she meant them to. "So, I noticed Russo hasn't been riding you lately."

"Yeh," Jim snorted. "Marty's actually been pretty good to me. He really wanted to help the other day when I lost Hank." He seemed to nod to himself. "He's a good guy."

Karen smiled briefly.

Mind wandering to his helpless time wandering around New Jersey after the drug deal went bad, Jim got quiet, his expression almost grim.

"I'm really sorry we all lost you that day," Karen said softly, regretably.

Jim smiled tightly. "It's not your fault." He didn't want to go into his feelings that day, how utterly helpless and confused he felt. He didn't want to admit how badly he was shaken up, thinking about being without Hank, unable to perform his job, losing such a great companion. Growing silent, he finished up his beer and sighed softly, blinking with slight confusion when he heard Karen get up.

"Come on," she said gently. "I'll take you home. Your wife's probably cooled off by now."

Raising an eyebrow, Jim slowly stood. "Hank," as the dog got up, he reached for the harness, cocking his head slightly and staring off in the general direction where Karen was. "How'd you know we had a fight?"

Karen let out a short laugh. "I just know. Besides...you look miserable." She laughed longer this time and headed for the exit, Hank following after her and leading his handler along.

Jim snorted and half-smiled.

As Karen pulled alongside the street in front of Jim's apartment, she threw the car into park and leaned back against her seat. "You want me to walk you up?" She offered.

"Nah," he shook his head and smiled in her direction with a brief nod. "Thanks," his voice was gruff, but sincere.

She nodded, knowing he was thanking her not just for the ride. "Any time," she told him honestly as he got out of the car, then opened up the rear door for Hank.

Jim walked up the steps to his apartment and paused as he listened for the car to drive away. He smiled to himself, then dusted off the fresh raindrops from the shoulders of his damp trenchcoat and leaned to the side to ruffle Hank's fur. With a slight sigh, Jim walked into the building, ready to get a good night's sleep before he had work in the morning.

Note: Well, there's the end of this one-shot. Please review!