Chapter Two

"Yeah, he can be hard to read at times, I know," Connie said understandingly. "But don't worry—if he says something, and you're not sure what it means, just talk to me about it. I speak fluent Jack McCoy," she added with a smile.

"Thanks, Connie," Allison said gratefully with a smile. "It's just that his reputation precedes him. He intimidates me because I respect him so much. And he's so…surly."

Connie chuckled good-naturedly.

"Yeah, he is," she agreed. "But don't worry. You wouldn't be here if he didn't think you were good enough—if you didn't have what it takes," she added encouragingly.

"You're so sweet," said Allison. "Thanks so much!"

"Of course!" said Connie. "If Mike can work with him, anyone can!" she joked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mike asked, though he was smiling.

"Exactly what it means," Connie replied.

Smirking smugly, she patted him on the thigh.

"You know what I watched last night?" Mike asked.

"What?" asked Connie.

"Family Showdown with Larry and Septomom," Mike said, now smirking himself. "I've heard rumors that they want you to make another guest appearance. I think you should."

"I hate you," Connie said, not meaning it at all.

"No, you don't," Mike said, still smirking.

"Anyway," Connie said, fighting back a smile. "He's not bad at all, Allison, I promise. Like you said, he's just surly. He's not nasty or vicious at all—not like this one lawyer I know."

"Who?" asked Allison.

"Oh, the EADA over in Queens," Connie replied, trying even harder not to smile. "Now he is just brutal—they don't call him 'Cut-Throat' Cutter for nothing!"

She turned to Mike, and her smirk became a smile when she saw that he was smiling in amusement. She reached up and briefly rested her hand against his cheek before turning back to Allison.

"Sorry—that's our relationship for you," she said.

"No, it's fine," Allison said, smiling and then taking a sip of her martini. "Maybe I'll find someone here in the illustrious Big Apple."

Connie waved at Lupo and Bernard, noticing that they'd just entered the bar.

"Hey, Connie," Lupo said, seating himself beside Allison.

"Hi, all," Bernard said, sitting down next to Lupo.

The two of them each ordered a beer.

"Hey, Cutter," Bernard called down the counter of the bar.

Mike didn't reply.

"What's his deal?" Bernard asked.

"Oh," said Connie, nodding at the TV.

The bartender had just turned on the Yankees game. Mike sat deeply immersed in the game, his eyes glued to the TV, bottle of beer in hand. His tie was undone, and his sleeves were rolled up.

"It's nothing you two did—he's just in his own little world," Connie said, clearly amused.

"Man," Bernard went on, "talk about Judge Bitch this morning."

"Yeah," Lupo agreed. "I spent four years busting terrorists. Don't passive-aggressively tell me I don't know how to do my job."

"You said it, Lupes," Bernard agreed, taking a sip of beer.

"I feel like it's my fault," Allison said.

"It's not you, Miss Barclay," Lupo said. "Judge Daniels is a bitch—always has been, always will be."

"Call me Allison—and thank you. That means a lot, seriously. For a while there, I was worried it was me."

"Allison, trust us—it wasn't you," said Connie reassuringly.

"Yeah," said Lupo, taking a sip of beer. "No one can wait for her to retire."

Allison took another sip of her martini.

"I'm just antsy because I just got licensed to practice here, this is a completely different city, obviously a completely different state. I don't know the other attorneys here, I don't know the judges—and, like I said before, Jack McCoy intimidates the living daylights out of me…"

"It's okay, Allison," Connie said kindly. "I moved all the way across the country for law school."

"Ooh, where are you from? I can't believe I haven't asked you that yet."

"California."

"Nice! Where'd you go to law school?"

"NYU."

"That's awesome—and I'm not just saying that because you're my boss."

Connie chuckled.

"I know that," she said. "So where'd you go to law school?"

"Penn State," Allison replied. "Go Nittany Lions!" she added, raising her martini glass. "Where'd Mike go to law school?"

"Hudson."

Just then—

"I can't believe you just swung at that! That was ball two!" Mike declared to the television.

Allison chuckled.

Connie smiled and shook her head.

Lupo then said, "I'm in law school right now."

"Really?" Allison said, intrigued.

"Yeah—I go part time at Hudson, in the evenings."

"Awesome!"

"Thanks," Lupo said, smiling. "It's a great day out today," he went on. "Wish I'd had the chance to take Otto for a walk in Central Park."

"You have a dog?" Allison said brightly.

"Yeah," Lupo replied, taking out his phone and showing her a picture of Otto.

"Aww!"

"Do you have a dog?" Lupo asked.

"I have two," said Allison. "Butch is a pug, he's three, and Rex is a Scottie, he's five. They're my boys."

She really hoped she wasn't blushing when Lupo smiled. She was pretty sure her martini wasn't the reason the room suddenly felt so hot.

Lupo suddenly stood up.

"Bartender's at the other end—I'm gonna go get another beer," he said.

When he was out of earshot, Allison turned to Connie.

"Is he seeing anyone?" she asked.

"Not that I know of," Connie said, looking to Bernard for confirmation.

"No, ma'am," Bernard said. "He's one hundred percent single."

"Hmm…" Allison said thoughtfully.

"I think you should go for it," Connie said. "Just for the record."

"What're we talking about?" Mike suddenly asked.

The network airing the Yankees game had gone to commercial break.

"Welcome back," Connie joked, smirking. "Oh, we were just talking about what a great reality star you'd make. I can see it now—Michael Cutter: Law Shark. It'd be a hit."

"Would you make a guest appearance?" Mike asked, also smirking.

"Absolutely not. I'd draw up your contract and include a clause that says by no means will I make an appearance—ever," Connie bantered.

"Okay, so I'd go on camera and show your picture."

"Um, that would be in violation of your contract."

"But it'd say 'appearance'. 'Appearance' implies a physical presence on camera. Showing a photograph isn't a physical presence on camera," Mike said, still smirking.

"Thank you, spin artist," said Connie, fighting back a smile. "But I will have you know that 'appearance' is a broader term than you think. A picture of me is still me on camera. I'm still appearing, just in a different medium. Sorry!"

"I'm the spin artist?" Mike said.

Connie laughed.

"I can't believe we're even talking about this!" she said. "I mean, it's not like it's ever gonna happen!"

"Well, it could! I mean, you're the one with the industry contact! And second of all, you started it!"

"You didn't have to continue it!"

"But I wanted to—and I'm enjoying myself!"

Connie looked at him for a split second. Then, smiling, she gave him a gentle, playful shove with her left hand.

"I love bantering with you. It's too much fun," Mike said.

"Likewise," said Connie.

They held hands, interlacing their fingers.

Mike gave her his sweetest, dimple-displaying smile, and Connie just had to lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

Then—

"Oh—game's back on," Mike said.

"See you later," Connie joked.

"I'd hate to kill the mood, but Slater lawyered up," said Allison.

"Who's he got?" asked Connie.

"Uh, Trevor Langan. Obviously, I don't know him."

Connie sighed.

"Well—so much for pleading out. We'll be going to trial," she said dryly.

"We'll handle him, Connie," said Allison.

"What's the toughest case you've ever worked?" Lupo suddenly asked her.

"Two years ago," Allison replied. "We were prosecuting a serial killer doctor. Bastard was clever as hell—covered all his tracks and hired the sleaziest defense attorney in Pittsburgh. We thought we'd never nail him. Then one day, his ex-wife came to us and told us he'd confessed to her. We thought we had him then—but the defense pounced."

It was commercial break, so Mike was paying attention again.

"Let me guess," said Connie. "A motion to exclude the ex-wife's testimony, claiming they were married at the time, so spousal privilege was in effect.

"Wow, you're good! That's exactly what happened! And guess what? The judge granted it. God, we thought we were screwed…" Allison said.

When the game came back on, Mike's focus went right back to the TV.

Seeing that Lupo had finished his second beer and had just downed a shot, Allison said, "Rough day?"

"Rough past few days, actually," Lupo replied. "I had a huge exam last night. Civil Procedure."

"Yeah, how'd that go, Lupes?" asked Bernard.

"It was nerve-wracking as hell, but not bad over all. I'm just coming down from a very stressful week."

Bernard chuckled.

"Am I gonna have to drive, partner?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm good," Lupo said, chuckling.

"Yeah, I'm definitely drivin'," Bernard joked.

Allison chuckled.

"As soon as the jury announced the guilty verdict for Dr. Sandefur—God, we all hurried out of that courtroom like our asses were on fire," she then reminisced. "Me, my boss Miranda Stevens, the lieutenant, the top two detectives, the M.E., and a few paralegals. We went straight to the nearest bar to celebrate…Man—I don't even think I was that drunk on my twenty-first birthday. I mean, we were all pretty smashed, but…Yeah, talk about coming down from stress. I hear ya," she told Lupo.

He smiled and chuckled, and she felt like the room was hot again—and that her martini still had nothing to do with it.

Just then, there came a collective "Yes!" from several people in the bar, including Mike. Derek Jeter had just hit a homer with a guy on third, putting the Yankees up by two. Various cheering and clapping ensued, as well.

"Don't look at me, I like football," Allison said with a smile.

"Me, too," said Bernard. "Let me guess, Steelers?"

"Oh heck no! Eagles all the way, man, I'm from Philly. How about you?"

"Go Jets," said Bernard, smiling.

"What about you, Connie?" asked Allison.

"I'm a Chargers fan," said Connie.

"Does Mike like football?"

"Yeah, he's a Giants fan, but baseball is by far his favorite sport."

"I gotta tell ya, you men are so funny whenever you're watching sports. It's like you've got tunnel vision! I dated this guy in college, and he was from England, and you know how they are about soccer over there," said Allison. "I'm telling you, he'd be watching Manchester United, and it was like I wasn't even there. Tunnel vision!"

Connie smirked.

"Well, Mike's the worst," she said. Then, turning to him, she added, "Right, honey?"

"Mmhm," Mike said vaguely, clearly not paying attention at all.

Allison laughed.

"Case in point," she said.

Connie smirked again.