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Chapter Text

November 1993

After the initial adrenaline rush had worn off, the shock set in. She found herself trembling uncontrollably, her knees shaking, almost unable to bear the weight of her body. She found the wall with her hand and pressed against it in the vain hope that its very being would stop her from falling. But it didn't. The rushing noise in her ears grew louder, her vision started to cloud and before she could utter a word, felt herself slide towards the floor.

He was there immediately, in front of her, his mouth forming words that she couldn't hear. He was trying to help her to her feet, but her body was protesting with every attempt, her limbs so heavy. She tried to explain, tried to convey that it wasn't her fault that she couldn't stand, but the connection between her brain and her mouth appeared to be lost, severed as a result of the preceding few moments and a dull ache started in her stomach.

His hands were on either side of her face, holding her head steady, forcing her to look at him and yet she felt her eyelids droop with the seeming desperate need for sleep. He was shaking her, gently but firmly, but all she wanted to do was close her eyes and rest.

It was good to sleep.

Chapter Text

May 1993

6 months earlier

It was late in the afternoon when Adam broke the news.

Four hours into waiting for a verdict on a double homicide and all Ben Stone really wanted to do was go home, have a drink and get into bed. The last few weeks in the lead up to the trial, not to mention the trial itself, had made him feel every one of his fifty years. Suzanne Lewis and Deborah Duncan, both in their twenties, both college students, found stabbed behind a dumpster on East 82nd Street. The alleged perpetrator Carl Banks, a homeless drug addict, had been running a defence of alibi and from the look on the juror's faces as they had filed out to consider their verdict, and the fact that four hours in they still hadn't reached one, was making him worry that Danielle Melnick may have just managed to persuade them that Banks wasn't responsible.

"I've found you a new assistant."

"I don't need a new assistant," Ben replied, rubbing his eyes. "I'm managing fine on my own."

"Come on, you're dead on your feet," Adam said. "Ever since Paul left you've been working harder than anyone in this office, trying to do the work of at least two people if not more. You've got cases piling up on your desk...you need an assistant."

Ben sighed and leaned back into the couch. The truth was he did need a new assistant but, personally, he didn't want one. Working together for over six years had brought a partnership with Paul where everything had fallen into place most of the time. They had known what the other was thinking without having to ask and, if he was being really honest with himself, Paul's departure still rankled. Why the younger man had thought that a career in private practice uptown at Blackman & Schwartz was better than all the good he did at the DA's office was beyond him and although Paul had tried to explain on several occasions his reasons for leaving, and despite recognising that his own reaction was unreasonable, Ben still couldn't help feeling slightly betrayed.

"She's bright, eager and she'll bring a new way of looking at things."

"She?" His mind rolled over all the female possibilities. "Claire Kincaid?"

"No, Jack McCoy asked for her and against my better judgement I agreed," Adam replied. "Evelyn Burns."

Ben's head snapped up and he took off his glasses as though he could convey his shock better without them. "You're not serious."

"I'm deadly serious."

"Adam, she's a defence attorney! Not to mention the fact she's married to one of the biggest assholes in the criminal bar!" It was an understatement if ever he'd made one. Burns & Associates were a high profile, high stakes, expensive firm and though they mainly operated in Brooklyn, Ben had had the displeasure of dealing with Edward Burns on more than one occasion both professionally and socially.

"She was a defence attorney. It seems Mrs Burns has seen the error of her ways in more ways than one. She's separated from her husband, left his firm and, apparently, wants to do some good."

"She told you all this?"

"Very eloquently at her interview."

"I don't believe this..." Ben got to his feet. "Out of everyone you could have appointed, you've given the job to her?"

"Have you ever even met her?"

"Once, in passing at a bar dinner." He shook his head at the memory. "She was hanging off her husband's arm like a limpet. Gazing up at him as though he was the next Messiah!"

"She's a heck of an attorney."

"Says who?"

"Frank Lazar," Adam said. "Not who you might expect to endorse her but it certainly makes things interesting."

"An Executive Assistant District Attorney in Brooklyn recommends you bring a defence attorney into this office and you don't think he might have his own agenda?" Ben demanded.

"Like what?"

"Like getting rid of her from his own ground!"

"Ben..." Adam got to his feet. "You're making too much of this, my friend. Now you know that I don't enjoy telling you what to do but in this instance I'm going to do it. Evelyn Burns is your new assistant starting tomorrow. Deal with it. Make it work. Who knows, she might end up being as great an asset to you and this office as Paul was."

Ben sighed as Adam's phone rang. "I doubt that very much." He waited while the older man took the call, still unable to believe the news that had just been delivered.

"Well, at least you won't have to worry about dealing with this case tomorrow," Adam said, replacing the receiver. "The jury are back."

XXXX

The courtroom was packed with reporters, friends and family of both victims and, of course, those who enjoyed the thrill of a criminal trial. Given the hour, Ben was surprised that so many people had waited around for the verdict. But then it had been a high profile case and the verdict, whatever it was, would be likely debated for many weeks to come. He glanced over at Danielle who was sat at the far table, Banks beside her. Ben had never been more sure of anything in his career that Banks was guilty and deserved to go to prison for the rest of his life. He just wished he felt as sure about the jury's decision making.

The court officer handed Judge Patton the piece of paper containing the verdict. He glanced at it briefly then turned to the jury foreman. "Has the jury reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?"

"We have your honour," the man in the blue suit replied.

"On the first count of the indictment, murder in the second degree in relation to Suzanne Lewis, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant...not guilty."

An uproar from the gallery caused Patton to bang his gavel loudly before matters could proceed further. "On the second count of the indictment, murder in the second degree in relation to Deborah Duncan, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant...not guilty."

Pandemonium broke out. Reporters ran for the door to call their news desks, people in the gallery began shouting at each other across the lines of division, cries of grief and outrage emanated from the families of the victims. In a slight state of shock, Ben watched as Danielle congratulated her client and then turned to shoot him a supercilious smile.

In an attempt to retain as much public professionalism as he could, Ben slowly got to his feet and began putting his papers back into his briefcase. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the jury slowly filing out and it took almost everything he had not to grab the foreman and demand to know why in God's name they had reached the conclusion they had.

"Tough case Ben." He looked up to see Danielle beside him. "You should have been more willing to talk before we got this far."

Glancing over her shoulder, he watched as Banks was surrounded by reporters. "Your client killed two innocent women, Danielle. I sure as hell won't sleep well tonight knowing that he's still walking the streets. How about you?"

"He was acquitted," she reminded him. "In the eyes of the law, he's done nothing."

"Right," he snapped his briefcase shut. "In the eyes of the law." Without waiting for her to say anything more, he made his way towards the door of the courtroom, only to find himself ambushed by the press.

"Mr Stone, do you think the jury made a mistake?!" one reporter yelled.

"Will you appeal?" cried a second.

"What do you have to say to the victim's families?" a third demanded.

Ben paused. "In my mind, Mr Banks killed two innocent women. In the jury's mind, he didn't. Now I can't reconcile the two but I can say that my office will be looking closely at this verdict before making any further comment." Pushing past them, he made for the exit, his head starting to throb. Was there any angle for an appeal? Could more have been done to try to break Bank's alibi? He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn't hear his name being called until he was down the court steps and halfway to the cab rank. Turning, he took a deep breath, hoping he could spare whichever poor reporter had chosen to pursue him the worst of his temper, only to find himself face to face with someone else entirely.

"I was at the back of the court."

He knew who she was, even if he had only met her once before and knowing, as he did, that she would be working with him in a matter of hours, he wasn't sure how he felt at her approaching him at that moment. "Mrs Burns."

"Evelyn, please," she said. "For what's it worth, I think the jury came to the wrong decision."

"Well that's comforting to know," he said, holding out his hand to attract the attention of a passing cab. "Unfortunately, your thoughts can't do much to change the verdict."

"No. I guess not." She paused. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

"It's a busy office, you'll have plenty to do so I doubt we'll see much of each other day to day." He opened the back door of the cab.

"Just how you'd like it?" she asked, her tone slightly more clipped.

Ben turned back to look at her. "You weren't my choice for the job, Mrs Burns, but as is so often the case in a hierarchy, one has to do what those above us tell us to do and, given that I think it's important we not start off on the wrong foot, you'd do well to remember that you'll be working for me."

Without giving her so much as a right of reply or even a further look, Ben got into the cab, slammed the door and gave the driver the address. As they pulled out into the traffic, he rested his head back and closed his eyes.

"Rough day?" the cabbie asked.

He sighed heavily, "Rough year."

Chapter Text

As she watched the cab merge into the evening traffic, Evelyn sighed and shook her head at no-one in particular. Perhaps it had been the wrong thing to do. Perhaps she should have waited until tomorrow to introduce herself properly but something...something had made her approach him and she couldn't help but wince inside at the reception she'd received.

What she hadn't told him was that far from simply being at the back of the court that day for the verdict, she had in fact been there all week, watching as he'd put forward the peoples' case and tried to destroy the alibi defence. It had been a bloody trial, objections raining down regularly from either side, bitterness evident in every exchange but, she'd had to admit, Danielle Melnick had done a good job.

"If you're successful, you'll most likely be working with Ben Stone," Schiff had told her at her interview two weeks earlier. "How do you feel about that?"

How did she feel...? In truth, she barely knew the man aside from his reputation and one brief meeting at a bar dinner. Most of her trade had been plied east of the river. She had thought that might have given them both an advantage, no preconceptions about each other. How wrong that had been proved today.

"I think it would be great," she had replied.

Yes...great...turning she started walking back in the direction of the street where she had left her car. The traffic uptown was going to be a nightmare and she knew she should most likely find a payphone and call her mother to tell her she would be late for dinner. The thought would have made her laugh if the whole scenario weren't so ridiculously tragic. Forty and living with her widowed mother. It was like the script for some melodrama. But, given she had little, if any finances, to play with, she had to at least be grateful that her mother had offered to take her in.

As she rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of a recovery truck lifting her car out of his space and up into the air. "Hey!" she called, running across the street to where a man in a green uniform appeared to be supervising. "What the hell is going on?"

He turned to look at her, "This your car?"

"Yes!"

"Not any more it's not."

Evelyn frowned, "What?"

"It's been seized."

"Seized?! What are you talking about, I'm legally parked!"

He looked down at his paperwork. "You haven't been paying your finance, so the loan company have reclaimed the vehicle." She stared at him. "I'm sorry, but I've got the paperwork here. There's been nothing paid on this car in the last three months."

"I don't..."

"You would have gotten a letter before it came to this," he added, as though he were being helpful.

"But I didn't..." she broke off as the ugly truth hit her. "Bastard."

"Look lady, I'm only..."

"Not you," she replied quickly.

"Do you have the keys?" he asked. Digging into her purse she pulled out the keyring, prised off the key and handed it to him. "Thanks. Look, I can give you a receipt. If you want to take it further with the loan company that is." Wordlessly, she took it from him. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah...so am I." Stepping back onto the sidewalk, she watched as her car completed its journey onto the back of the truck which then pulled away into the traffic. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to hit something...or somebody. Hot tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. Eddie...it could only have been Eddie. The car was in his name, like everything else. He obviously hadn't been paying the finance and simply decided not to tell her. "Idiot..." she said to herself. For a lawyer, she had been pretty damn stupid when it came to her marriage. Slowly, she made her way back to the main thoroughfare to try and hail a cab.

Now she really was going to be late for dinner.

XXXX

Ben opened the door to his apartment, hung his coat on the hook, tossed the day's mail on the table and immediately went to the drinks cabinet. As he poured himself a scotch, he suddenly thought about his father and how a drink immediately he returned home from work had been the norm. Sipping the liquid, he wandered into the living room and sat down on the couch. It wasn't the norm for him, but some days it was just required.

Over and over in his mind, all he could see was Melnick's smug smile of victory. It didn't seem to bother her that a killer was walking the streets. Maybe he should have asked different questions of the alibi witness. Maybe his summation should have been better...shorter, longer...with a different tone...

This job...he shook his head. Sometimes he walked out of court feeling great, as though he had really achieved something in the peoples' name. Other times, like today, he walked out feeling as though he had done them a massive disservice.

As he finished his drink, the phone rang and, hoping it wasn't Adam keen to dissect the verdict, he answered it warily. "Hello?"

"Dad?"

"Peter!" his son's voice brightened his mood. "How are you?"

"Fine. Mom said I should call."

"Did she now?" Ben said, slightly irked. "You know you can call any time."

"I know." There was a silence. "I got all A's on my tests."

Pride rushed through him, "That's great son. Not that I ever thought for a moment that you wouldn't. Is your mother pleased?"

"Yeah. She's in the kitchen. Do you want to talk to her?"

"No, it's ok. She'll be busy making dinner no doubt." He waited for Peter to say more but then, conversation never did flow very easily between them, especially now Peter had hit the slightly awkward age of fifteen. "What about your sister?"

"Pamela's at Grandma's."

"What's she doing there?"

"She always stays there on a Wednesday night, Dad. I thought you knew that."

Inwardly, Ben cursed himself both for his own forgetfulness and for the way his son's tone made him feel. "Yeah, I knew that," he said finally. "Am I going to see either of you this weekend?"

Peter paused. "Well...I was meant to be staying at Jake's this weekend. His dad was going to take us fishing."

Ben nodded to himself. "Well, that's fine if that's what you want to do. Tell your sister that if she wants to come over she's more than welcome."

"I will. Look Dad, I have to go. I'll talk to you later, ok?"

"Ok son." Before he could say goodbye, the phone was put down at the other end. Slowly, Ben replaced the receiver and sat back into the couch. His relationship with his children had to be one of the biggest regrets of his life. He and Laura had been divorced nearly ten years and it had never truly recovered. He thought there had been little acrimony in their separating, simply two people who had grown apart, though he knew he bore the lion's share of the blame for all the hours he had worked while Laura had been raising the children, but over time, her bitterness and anger had started to come to the fore. They had agreed on an 'every other weekend' custody arrangement which, while initially had worked well had, in the last few years, slowly disintegrated. Peter and Pamela had better things to do than spend their time with him. Their friends were more exciting, not to mention their friend's parents. His job didn't appear t hold any fascination for either of them and he couldn't help but wonder, if he had his time again, would he have done anything differently?

In the corner of the room, he caught sight of the files piled up on the table he used as a study. Case upon case upon case, waiting for his attention. Victims, all waiting for justice. Slowly, he got up and walked over, turning over the page of the first one, the image of a blood-soaked young woman staring back at him. Maybe he would have done things differently, but there was no magic time machine. He was here now and this was his life.

XXXX

"What do you mean they just took it?" Susan Nicholls said in a horrified tone. "Can they do that?"

"They can if you haven't been paying them," Evelyn replied, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it onto the couch. "And clearly Eddie hasn't been."

"I don't understand. Surely he would have told you?"

"Well he didn't and I'm pretty sure it wasn't a simple omission on his part."

"Maybe you should call him."

"Maybe I shouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm upset about it."

"I just think..."

"Mom, please. Can we just leave it? Please?"

Susan shrugged and turned to go back into the kitchen leaving her daughter alone in the living room. Kicking off her shoes, Evelyn lay down on the couch, stretching her legs out in front of her and throwing her arms over her face so that she was staring at darkness. Her mother had been good to her, she couldn't deny that, but she knew there was a part of her that refused to understand why she had left Eddie and why she had no intention of ever going back. The car...that kind of passive aggressive shit was exactly what she couldn't put up with any longer. That and a million other more direct things.

"Your dinner won't be long," Susan said, coming back into the room and lifting Evelyn's jacket and shoes. "You know, maybe you should be getting some legal advice about all this."

"I am a lawyer," Evelyn replied, her face still covered.

"I know that, but what do you really know about, well, divorce law? If that's the road you're intending to go down. I mean...it's not normal."

"What's not normal?"

"This...you...walking away with nothing. Surely you're entitled to half the house, half the savings, half the business...his pension? Turning up here with nothing but a suitcase of clothes to your name isn't normal, Evelyn."

She knew her mother was right. Of course she was right. She should have been taking Eddie for everything he had or at the very least retaining the things that were meant to be hers. But the incident with the car had simply shown her that nothing was hers. Everything was in his name. The house, the bank accounts, the car, the business...everything. And did she even want any of it? Could she bear the thought of a knockdown, drag out fight in court? She knew Eddie was banking on her being passive about it, taking whatever crumbs he felt like throwing her. He was convinced that she would never tell the truth...not about any of it.

"I know a couple of good divorce attorneys," she said, sitting up. "I'll give one of them a call tomorrow and try and set something up."

"Good," Susan said, placated. "Of course you're starting your new job tomorrow too so that should give you a focus."

Her encounter with Ben, almost forgotten in the aftermath of the loss of her car, came suddenly flooding back to her. "Yeah...it'll certainly give me something."

XXXX

Ben hadn't been lying when he'd told Danielle Melnick that he wouldn't sleep well that night. In fact, he barely slept at all. The hours ticked by as he lay staring at the ceiling, the phone call with Peter replaying over and over in his mind, along with something else. Evelyn Burns. He knew he had been uncharacteristically rude to her, that his prejudice about her had clouded him. And yet, he had always considered himself to be someone who was without prejudice when it came to defence attorneys. They were simply doing a job after all. If they didn't exist, the system couldn't function. They weren't all like Arthur Gold or Danielle Melnick...there were some decent ones out there, attorneys who were fair, who knew the game and how to play it but with whom he could ultimately socialise with when the need arose.

Edward Burns...now he was very much in the former camp. A liar, someone who had to win at all costs and, though he couldn't prove it, Ben was convinced he had suborned perjury in a case he had tried two years ago. He had also heard rumours of Edward's infidelity and, if the ugliest stories were to be believed, his penchant for tax fraud. How the man hadn't been indicted himself was a mystery.

He remembered the bar dinner he had mentioned to Adam, the one and only time, except for that afternoon, when he had met Evelyn. It had been June 1991, a hot, sticky evening a week after Edward's client had been acquitted. He had been coming out of the bathroom when the other man had suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Ben, good to see you." Neither man had offered a hand in greeting. "I didn't know you were going to be here tonight."

"Likewise," Ben had replied, his eyes flicking to the woman at Edward's side, her arm wrapped protectively, almost possessively around his.

"This is my wife, Evelyn," Edward had said. "Darling, this is Ben Stone."

"Pleased to meet you," she had said.

"And you," he had replied courteously, but in reality had been desperate to find a reason to escape.

"I hear you had your detectives talk to my witness the other day," Edward had said, his tone pleasant but his eyes hard. "You do realise the case is closed, right?"

"Just tying up some loose ends."

"Well, unless I missed a recent ruling, double jeopardy applies here and my client is free to go about his legitimate business. So, unless you have some sort of warrant or subpoena, I'd suggest you leave him and his colleagues alone." Edward had smiled down at Evelyn and patted her hand. "We should get going." Evelyn had given him a smile and then moved with her husband into the crowd.

"What did he want?" Paul had asked, appearing at Ben's side.

"Oh he was just giving me a friendly warning to stay away from his client," Ben had replied. "Thinks he's God's gift and judging from the look on her face, so does his wife."

"Hmmm...I wouldn't be too sure about that," Paul had replied. "Rumour has it it isn't the happiest of marriages."

In his dislike of Edward Burns, Ben had all but forgotten Paul's last remark. She had seemed happy enough, but then he knew all too well how appearances could be deceptive. He and Laura had kept up a pretty good pretence too until the inevitable.

He rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. 3.45am. Maybe Evelyn Burns was also wide awake, worrying about her first day in a new job. Or maybe she was sleeping peacefully without a care in the world. Whichever it was, Ben knew he had to at least give her a chance. Perceptions could be dangerous things. After all, who knew what hers were of him?

Chapter Text

It was fully ten minutes past nine when Evelyn stepped out of the elevator on the fifth floor and entered the world of the Manhattan District Attorney's office. In contrast to her old firm, it was a whole different world. There were people everywhere, phones ringing, a million different conversations going on at once...at Burns & Associates, everything had been quiet. The receptionist answered the phone in a hushed tone, no-one hurried anywhere and the thick carpet had muffled a multitude of sins. She stood staring around her, unsure what to do or where to go when an older woman strode up to her.

"I'm guessing you must be Mrs Burns," she said, her gaze sweeping over her.

"That's right, I'm..." before she could say any more, the woman turned and motioned for her to follow, which she did, all the way along the hallway to a bullpen of desks.

"This is yours," the woman turned back to face her. "Mr Stone already left some files for you."

"So I see," Evelyn commented on the stack piled neatly in one corner. She put her bag on the table next to them. "Do I get some sort of tour...uh...?"

"Celia," the woman replied curtly. "The ladies room is over there, the elevators are behind you. The coffee machine is around the corner and Mr Stone's office is over there." She pointed left. "He said he wanted to see you when you eventually got in."

"Right..." Evelyn said, feeling her stomach tighten in apprehension. "Well thank you for showing me around, Celia. It was nice to meet you."

"Hmm..." Celia looked her up and down again before disappearing around a corner out of sight.

Looking around at the people nearby, she waited to see if anyone would speak to her or even make eye contact, but everyone seemed engrossed either in their own conversations or in their own work. Never one to be that good at pushing herself forward, Evelyn lifted the first file that was sitting on her desk and flicked it open. Glancing thought it, she could see it was for a rape and attempted murder that had happened five nights ago. All the information appeared to be there including the note that a suspect, Michael Richmond, was due to be arraigned later.

Lifting all of the files, lest she be questioned about any of them, Evelyn made her way towards the door Celia had indicated and knocked twice. A voice called for her to come in and when she pushed the door open and saw him sat behind his desk, what little courage she had almost failed her. "Mr Stone," she said as brightly as she could. "We meet again."

Ben looked at her over the top of his glasses. "You're late."

"I know," embarrassment flooded through her. "I had a problem with my car yesterday and..."

"I'm not interested in your excuses Mrs Burns," he interrupted her. "Assistants here usually start work at 8am, 8.30am at the latest. I don't expect any different from you, regardless of what privileges you enjoyed at your last firm." Evelyn opened her mouth to argue back, then thought better of it and simply nodded. "I see you found the files."

"Yes," she said, putting them down on the table and holding the first one up. "I see this one has an arraignment later today."

"I want you to cover it," he said. "Read the file, if you have any questions about the case call the lead detective Lennie Briscoe at the 27th Precinct. If you have any questions about the law, ask me. Don't just go off cock handed."

Evelyn paused. She could take him chastising her for her timekeeping, she could even accept him telling her to contact the police with any factual questions about the case, but as to him questioning her knowledge of the law... first day nerves or not, she felt indignation rise within her. "You do realise that I'm not fresh out of law school, right?"

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"I've been doing this job for over fifteen years. I know the law. I know how to handle an arraignment."

"Uh...you may have been working in the system for over fifteen years Mrs Burns but you have not been doing this job for that length of time and while you may have been present at many arraignments you have not been on this side of the table. Now I don't know what your motives are for joining this office but I have my suspicions..." he looked at her hard. "So, if you have any questions about the law, I expect you to ask me, are we clear?"

"Yes," she replied, biting her tongue hard against what she really wanted to say. "Crystal clear."

"Good. Come back and talk to me once it's done." He looked back down at the papers on his desk, clearly indicating that the conversation was over.

"Fine," she said, "I will." Picking the remaining files up, she turned and walked back out of the door stopping herself, but only just, from slamming it behind her.

XXXX

"Docket Number 6784, people of the state of New York versus Michael James Richmond. Charges are rape in the second degree, attempted murder in the second degree."

Evelyn grabbed her file and hurried up to the prosecutor's table as the suspect, Michael Richmond, was brought in from custody. He was in his forties, greying hair and wearing the look of someone who had never been in trouble before and couldn't quite believe what was happening. She had seen plenty of people like that in her time. It was Judge Victoria Hemmings on the bench, not a judge she was familiar with, and given it was her first time as Ben had put it 'on this side of the table' her aim was to get in and out unscathed. She had already noticed that Richmond was being represented by Josh Lieberman, a shrewd defence attorney and a golfing friend of Edward's and, for some reason, that made her even more anxious.

"How do you plead Mr Richmond?"

"Not guilty."

"People on bail?" Judge Hemmings' eyes swivelled towards her.

"Mr Richmond is a dual citizen, your honour," Evelyn sad. "He holds both an American and an Irish passport with business interests and relatives in that country. The people consider him a flight risk and ask that he be held without bail."

"Your Honour, Mr Richmond is a valued member of this community," Josh said. "He runs a successful business and he's an involved member of his church. He has close ties here and has no reason to flee to the Emerald Isle."

"No reason to flee?" the judge said. "He's facing two very serious charges, counsellor."

"He's not been convicted of anything yet."

"That's what a trial is for. One island is as good as another. No bail for Mr Richmond. Short date." She banged her gavel and the hearing was over.

Evelyn gathered up her papers as Josh approached her. "Well, well, well..." he said. "I heard a rumour but I didn't think it was true."

"It's true," she replied. "Here I am."

"How the mighty fall."

She forced a smile onto her face despite secretly wanting to smack him. "Depends on how you look at it."

"It also depends on how you look at this case," Josh said. "The evidence is bogus, Evelyn. Your DNA match isn't a match at all given the contamination from the second donor and as for the fibres on his sweater? Come on, they were in a relationship."

"I didn't realise being in a relationship meant you were open to being raped and having your head bashed in," Evelyn said. "Not to mention, your client made incriminating statements to the police during questioning."

"Yes, well, you should know what's coming next in relation to that." Josh reached into his briefcase and pulled out a familiar blue backed paper. "His right to counsel was violated. Motion to suppress."

"You've got to be kidding," Evelyn said. "He told the police that he and Sandra had been intimate, he admitted they had had a fight..."

"None of which matters when his Miranda rights have been violated." Josh snapped his briefcase shut. "Judge Leon's chambers, 4pm. Tell Stone to bring his armour plating."

XXXX

It was his fourth cup of coffee and whilst it was helping him stay awake, it was doing nothing to temper Ben's mood. When he'd come into the office that morning, he had resolved that it was a new day, a new chance to do good and a new start for Evelyn Burns. He would give her the opportunity that he had denied her the previous day and be open to the prospect of her working for him.

All that good intention had evaporated once the clock hands slipped past 9am. If the woman had been hoping to make a good impression on him, she had sadly failed. Clearly, she was used to swanning in at whatever time she chose and whilst that might have been acceptable when her husband was in charge, it wasn't acceptable to him. He had intended pulling her up for it and then moving on but, unfortunately for her, she had chosen the inopportune moment to come into his office when he was reading some press coverage of the Banks case and, to his regret, he had been slightly more offhand with her than he'd intended.

Time seemed to be his enemy and he couldn't understand why, by almost one o'clock, she still hadn't returned from court. There were certain legal aspects of the case that he needed to discuss with someone and, seeing as she was meant to be his new assistant, he assumed it would be with her. That wouldn't be possible however, if she never came back to the office. Ten minutes later, more irked than ever, he left his office and crossed the bullpen to find her sitting at her desk shuffling papers.

"I thought I told you to come and see me once you got back?"

"You did," Evelyn said, getting to her feet, "and I was just about to, but I wanted to put together some points for you for the suppression hearing first."

"What suppression hearing?" she handed him the motion and he read it quickly. "This is ridiculous."

"I know. It's so ridiculous that I wanted to look up Porelli just in case I had missed something in the ruling." She handed him a printed copy of the case. "I've highlighted what Justice Ranquist said and unless I'm reading it wrong, I don't see where Josh Lieberman is coming from."

"Lieberman...I don't really know him."

"I do. He's a friend of my husband's." Ben looked at her. "Not a friend of mine, in case you're wondering. He can be a bit slippery but he's not usually stupid."

"Yeah well, we'll see what a judge has to say. Who are we in front of?"

"Judge Leon?"

Ben nodded his head, "Could be worse."

XXXX

The short journey to the court house had been spent discussing the case and the potential problems. Sandra Kellerman and Michael Richmond had been in a relationship for around seven months. She was a school teacher, he ran a printing business. On the night in question, they had been out for dinner and had a few drinks before ending up back at Sandra's apartment. According to her, Michael had tried to initiate sex, she had declined, he had grown angry and ultimately violent. She said he had thrown her around, smashed her head on the fireplace and then raped her on the floor before leaving her lying in her own blood. When she had come to, she had immediately called 911.

It hadn't taken the cops long to pick up Michael and, during questioning, he had admitted that he and Sandra had had rough sex but said that they had had an argument because she had confessed she had been sleeping with someone else. Michael admitted that he had hit her but denied rape or the beating that followed. An examination of Sandra had revealed DNA matched to Michael but also a deposit from a second person, whilst forensics had found fibres from the clothes Sandra had been wearing that night on Michael's sweater and traces of his skin under her fingernails.

"Do we know who the other man is?" Ben asked as they approached the courthouse.

"No," Evelyn replied. "According to the cops, Sandra didn't want to give him name."

"Well she's going to have to. You'll need to speak to her."

"I know. I just wish I knew how trying to get Richmond's statements thrown out are going to help his case. He knows his DNA was a match so why try to hide the fact they were intimate?"

"Who knows what goes on in the mind of a rapist," Ben replied. Twenty minutes later, they were sitting outside Judge Leon's chambers waiting for Josh to arrive and he decided to take the opportunity to make amends. "I was a little harsh this morning."

Evelyn waited for him to say more and when he didn't, she turned to face him. "Is that meant to be an apology?"

"You think you're owed one?" he replied, flicking through the papers.

"I think you might have given me the courtesy of letting me explain why I was late rather than just chewing me out like a first year student."

"Something about your car, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she replied. "It was repossessed after court yesterday. My husband hadn't been making the loan repayments. I'm staying with my mother uptown at the moment and I misjudged how long it would take to get a cab. I did not know that assistants were expected to be in at 8am so...it won't happen again and...I'm sorry."

Ben looked over and met her gaze. "Fine."

"Fine," she echoed.

At that moment, the door at the end of the corridor opened and Josh came hurrying down just as Judge Leon opened the door to his chambers and beckoned for them to enter.

XXXX

"I have to tell you Mr Lieberman, I'm not particularly disposed towards your motion."

Josh leaned forward in his chair, "Your honour, Mr Richmond clearly asked for an attorney on more than one occasion during questioning and his request was denied."

"According to the officers," Ben said, "Mr Richmond asked them if he needed an attorney and they told him it was his decision. Had he actually invoked his rights, they would have stopped the interview until he was represented."

"Come on Mr Stone, you know as well as I do that a suspect can ask for a lawyer without really asking for one."

Ben stared at him, "Since when?"

"I'd like to hear this too," Judge Leon said.

"A person who is unfamiliar with the legal process, who has never been in any trouble before, who has no knowledge of how Miranda rights work asking if he needs a lawyer could be construed as him invoking his rights pursuant to the decision in Porelli," Josh said.

"Your honour, the situation in Porelli was different," Ben said. "Mr Porelli had a learning disability. The Supreme Court held that as he didn't have an appropriate adult with him at the time of questioning that his right to an attorney had been violated. That is not the case here."

"I tend to agree," Judge Leon said, cutting off Josh as he opened his mouth to continue to speak. "Your client understood his rights and if he had wanted to he could have exercised them at any time. I'm refusing your motion. The statements are in."

"Thank you Your honour," Ben said, getting to his feet and gathering up his papers, Evelyn following suit. He turned to Josh. "If your client wants to discuss a plea..."

"He doesn't," Josh replied shortly. "This case is a load of crap." He looked over Ben's shoulder and caught Evelyn's gaze. "It's such a shame to see you like this Evelyn. Riding second chair to a prosecutor when you used to be running these kind of defences on your own. I'll tell Edward you said hi."

Ben watched as he strode out of the room and then turned to Evelyn. "Are all your husband's friends as pleasant as him?"

She smiled wanly. "Pretty much."

XXXX

"Sandra Kellerman's agreed to see me first thing tomorrow morning," Evelyn said, stepping into Ben's office late that afternoon. "She didn't sound particularly keen on the idea, but when I told her it was that or potentially see Richmond walking free she soon came around."

"Good," Ben said. "We need to find out who this other man is, the other person she had sex with. There has to be some reason she's protecting his identity."

Evelyn sat down at the table, "Maybe he's married."

"Maybe. Or maybe he's involved."

"What, like a tag team?"

"I don't know..." Ben shook his head. "There's something about this case that's getting to me. Why was Josh Lieberman so adamant that his client wouldn't consider a plea? What's he got that we don't have?"

"A grade A attitude for one thing," she said, "but like I said earlier, he's not stupid."

As she spoke, the door at the other side of the room opened and Celia came in carrying a cup of coffee and a donut on a plate which she placed down in front of Ben. "Thanks Celia," he said, the other woman smiling at him before casting Evelyn a look and sweeping out again.

"That woman does not like me," she commented.

"Celia? Oh she hates everyone to begin with. Took her the best part of ten years to warm up to me." Ben looked at her. "We're going to have to go over the witness statements again before you see Sandra tomorrow just in case there's something in there that's been missed."

"Sure," Evelyn said, "I can make up the time now. I just need to call my mother to say I'll be late for dinner." He looked at her quizzically as she stood up. "I know, it's pathetic. Forty years old and living with my mother. It's like being fourteen again. I'll just be a second." Leaving the office, she made her way back to her desk, dialled her mother's number and quickly explained the situation. Although she sounded slightly put out at the disruption, Susan said she would leave a plate in the oven for her. After all, it was bridge night.

"And there's no way Mom would miss bridge," Evelyn muttered to herself as she put the phone down. When she opened the door to Ben's office again, he was already engrossed in the statements and at her place at the table, she saw a Styrofoam cup, half filled with coffee and a paper napkin with half a donut on it. She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it and simply sat down to join him.

Chapter Text

"I can't tell you who he is," Sandra Kellerman said the following morning. "I just can't."

"You're going to have to," Evelyn said, gently but firmly. "His DNA was found inside you and the defence are going to try to use that against us at trial."

"No."

"If you don't tell us now, then we'll put you on the stand and ask you about him under oath."

Sandra's head shot up, her eyes red and bloodshot, the bruising around her face stark. "You can't do that!"

"We can and we will." Evelyn paused and sat down on the couch opposite. "Don't you want Michael to pay for what he did to you?" Sandra didn't respond. "One of your neighbours said she saw a man leaving your flat earlier in the evening, before you and Michael went for dinner. Was that him? Six feet tall, sandy blond hair, wearing a blue suit?"

"I can't say anything..." Sandra said, tears coursing down her cheeks. "You don't understand..."

Evelyn frowned, confused by the woman's lack of cooperation. "Sandra, if you've been seeing this man...if he didn't do anything to you...why are you afraid of telling us who he is?"

Sandra paused, "He's married. I don't...I don't want to cause trouble for him..."

"Does he know what's happened to you?"

"I...I don't think so. I mean, I haven't talked to him since that night."

"But you did have sex with him before you went out with Michael?" Sandra nodded. "Did Michael know about him?"

"No."

"Did he know about Michael?"

"Yes."

"Sandra..."

"I can't sleep!" the other woman cried. "Every time I close my eyes all I can see is him...what he did to me...I'm afraid to walk down the street in case he's waiting for me. Every time I hear a noise I jump..." she ran her hand over her eyes. "Even if I tell you who he is, it's never going to end, is it? I'm always going to feel like this..." She sighed heavily. "You have no idea what it's like to feel so afraid..."

Though it was warm in Sandra's apartment, Evelyn suddenly shivered, as though icy arms were encircling her. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Leaning forward, she put her hand on Sandra's knee. "It will end, Sandra. One day it will. But, right now, you need to help us. Please."

XXXX

When she got back to her desk an hour later, there were six message slips lying waiting for her. One from her mother and five from Eddie. She stared down at the number scrawled at the bottom and recognised his office number. She knew it by heart and whilst part of her knew she should simply bin the messages, another part of her was curious as to why he seemed so determined to speak to her. If she was a betting person, she could probably make a few dollars, but she was always open to being surprised. She knew she should speak to Ben about what she had learned from Sandra, but she wanted to get the inevitable over with first. Lifting the receiver, her fingers flew over the digits and, three rings in, her husband answered.

"Edward Burns."

"It's me."

"It's about fucking time!" Evelyn winced slightly at his profanity. "Do you have any idea how busy I am? I don't have all day to sit around waiting on you calling me back. And you might ask you mother to take the stick out of her ass too."

"What do you want?" she asked calmly.

"I want to see you."

"Why?"

"There's things we need to discuss."

"There's nothing we need to discuss Eddie. All of the legal matters can be handled through our attorneys." After the conversation with her mother the previous night, she had called one of her friends for advice and ended up retaining her, though the disappointing news had been that there wasn't an immediately obvious ground for divorce available to her. Well, not unless she divulged more about her marriage than she was willing to.

There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone as Edward digested this news. "You've hired an attorney?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I? We're separated, we're going to be getting divorced and I need to protect myself financially. Her name's Veronica Sellers. I can give you her number. I'm guessing you'll be using Howard Loomis?"

"Uh...yes, of course. I refer him enough business, he owes me." Edward paused. "I thought you might have called me about the car." Evelyn smiled to herself. He was acting true to form right enough. "I mean, it must be a huge inconvenience to you not having it anymore."

"Not really," she replied. "I can relax in the back of a cab going to work now as opposed to stressing myself out in the traffic."

"That's right, you're at the DA's office now," he sneered. "Josh told me he'd seen you there. It's a bit of step down for you, isn't it? I mean, wouldn't you have been better trying to get into another private firm?"

"Maybe," she replied evenly. "But this is working well for me right now."

"You've been there, what, two days, and you've found your calling?"

She fought down the urge to get into a full blown argument with him, knowing it was exactly what he wanted and that he would most likely come out the victor. She liked to think of herself as reasonably intelligent and articulate but he always had the ability to talk her into a corner, not mention push her. "I'm really busy, Eddie, I need to go. Was there a reason for your multiple calls other than demanding we meet up?"

"We need to meet."

"We don't need to meet and I need to go."

"I'm stopping the spousal support," he threw in as a last ditch attempt to keep her attention.

"Goodbye Eddie." She put the phone down and sat back in her chair, exhaling the breath she hadn't even realised she had been holding. The entire conversation had been typical of every conversation they had had over, what, the last fifteen years? He knew exactly the kind of things to say to try and chip away at her self confidence, to make her feel dependant on him before he brought out his fists. Well that ship had sailed, utterly and truly. It may have taken fifteen years and a hell of a lot of hurt, but she had finally seen the light.

The spousal support comment niggled though. The day she had walked out, when she had told him she was leaving and he had tried to blackmail her into staying, he had eventually agreed to pay her a small amount each month until they could come to a more formal arrangement. Whilst some men might have balked at it, she knew Eddie had been secretly pleased that he still had some control over her and when he felt that control slipping, money was the first thing he turned to. First the car, then the support...it was all so typical. The fact that she was showing little if any concern over his threats would be pissing him off big time, though she had to admit that the prospect of no income until her first pay check was slightly worrying.

Standing up, she made her way over to Ben's door, only to spy him on the phone looking less than happy.

XXXX

"Laura, this is the third weekend in a row that neither of the kids has wanted to come down."

"And what do you want me to do about it, Ben? Peter told you he was going to spend the weekend fishing with Jake and his father. He's fifteen, should I tell him he can't go?"

Ben closed his eyes and tried to keep his temper with his ex-wife. She had called him at home the previous evening and left a message saying that Pamela didn't want to spend the weekend with him after all. Part of him was almost ashamedly relieved. It felt sometimes as though he didn't know what to say to his twelve year old daughter and not having Peter there as a buffer would have made it all the more awkward but...they were his children...

"I'm not saying you should tell him he can't go. I'm just saying that if this continues then I'm never going to see them. It's been nearly two months now!"

"There's nothing to stop you coming up here if you really want to," Laura replied. "The kids don't like the city."

"Well that's the first I've heard of it!" he snapped.

"Don't take that tone with me," she retorted.

"You're the one who took them to Connecticut!"

"And you're the one who didn't try to stop me! Your career was more important than me, than the kids...you can hardly blame me now if they don't really know their father."

"That's not..." he stopped before he said something he regretted. Through the blinds on his door, he could see Evelyn hovering, her fist raised to knock and he waved her inside. "Can we talk about this later?"

"There's not really anything to talk about, Ben," Laura sighed. "There never is."

"I'm sorry," Evelyn said, as he replaced the receiver. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, it's ok," he said, pulling his mind back to the present. "What happened when you saw Sandra?"

"Well it was like pulling teeth, but she gave me a name. You're going to love this...Philip Bosco."

Ben raised his eyebrows. "The Philip Bosco? The Philip Bosco that runs a multinational telecoms company? The Philip Bosco who's married to one of the richest women in New York?"

"One and the same."

"How on earth did a public school teacher like Sandra Kellerman end up having an affair with Philip Bosco?"

"Apparently, Mr Bosco is a great supporter of public schools," Evelyn explained. "He donates money every year and last year, he happened to pick PS 161 where Sandra works. He likes to put on a bit of a show so he turns up at the school with a cheque for a photocall and Sandra was the lucky lady who was chosen to be photographed receiving it. They hit it off and they've been seeing each other on and off for about a year."

"Before she started dating Michael Richmond?"

Evelyn nodded. "She said she and Michael met during one of the 'off' periods. When she started seeing Michael she intended breaking it off with Bosco but he turned nasty. He said he would report her to the school governors and that she'd lose her job."

"You'd think he'd be more worried about losing his marriage."

"Maybe it's not so great a marriage," she observed.

"Is any marriage ever?" he said, before he could stop himself. She didn't say anything. "So, he was at her apartment the night she was attacked by Michael."

"She says they had sex and then he left around five-thirty. Michael came by to pick her up around eight. They got back to her apartment around eleven-thirty which is when she said the attack happened." She paused. "Should we ask Bosco to come in?"

Ben pursed his lips, "Not without approval from on high."

XXXX

"You cannot ask Philip Bosco, of all people, to come down here to confirm whether or not he had sex with the girl six hours before she was attacked," Adam shook his head. "You'd just be asking for a whole heap of trouble."

"Adam, Richmond's lawyer is going to use the fact that there was a secondary DNA deposit as grounds for trying to convince the jury that they can't be sure Richmond raped Sandra Kellerman," Ben said. "If I was Lieberman, I'd be doing my damndest to find out who the second man was. All I'm suggesting is that we get in there first."

"And what? He tells you he was there. He tells you they had sex. He tells you he left at five-thirty. Where does that take us apart from painting Sandra Kellerman as a woman free and easy with her favours?"

"You're joking, right?" Evelyn asked, slightly stunned by his analysis.

"With his testimony and the girl's, there's no way that Josh Lieberman can muddy the waters. They both confirm it was a consensual act hours before the rape." Ben said before Adam could respond to her.

"His testimony?" Adam chuckled. "Do you really think for one minute that Philip Bosco is going to agree to testify at trial? Not to mention the fact that suggesting the girl had sex with another person before the attack isn't relevant."

"If he doesn't testify, I'll subpoena him and I'll go public."

"Does he even know what happened to the girl?"

Evelyn shook her head. "Sandra said she hadn't talked to him since that night and her identity has been protected from the media. There's no way he could know."

Adam sighed. "Go to him. Keep it casual. Have him confirm the time that he was at the girl's apartment and leave it at that."

"Adam..."

"I don't want you doing anything until you've heard what he has to say and you..." he gestured to Evelyn. "If you're going to work in this office you'll need to keep the feminist rhetoric to a minimum."

XXXX

"Bosco's secretary says he isn't available any time today to talk to us. And he's spending the weekend in the Hamptons," Evelyn relayed. "She said maybe the end of next week..."

Ben shook his head. "You gave the secretary Sandra's name?"

She nodded. "She disappeared off the line for a few moments then came back and said he wasn't free."

"She must have asked him and he shut her down." Ben sighed. "If he cared enough about her to keep her seeing him when she wanted to call it off..."

"Come on, that isn't caring, it's control," Evelyn interrupted. "If Bosco really cared about Sandra Kellerman he wouldn't have threatened to tell the school governors about their affair. He's clearly getting something out of the relationship and I don't just mean sex. And if you think that's me starting up some feminist rhetoric..." she shook her head.

Ben paused, mulling things over in his mind. "When you spoke to Sandra, she told you that she was afraid after the rape, right? Your notes said that she couldn't sleep?"

"Right, she said she was scared to walk down the street in case he was waiting for her..." Evelyn trailed off.

"What?"

"Michael's in custody at Rikers, but Sandra was talking as if the person who attacked her could still get at her. You don't think...?" The phone on Ben's desk rang loudly, putting paid to her next thought.

"Stone," he said, lifting the receiver. "Uh huh...well we'd appreciate a moment of your client's time if it's not too much trouble...before he goes to the Hamptons...four-thirty would be fine...well the feeling's mutual sir. Goodbye." He put the phone down and met her gaze. "That was Bosco's lawyer. He's bringing his client in this afternoon."

"That was fast."

"Sure was..." Ben said. "Turns out he's represented by your husband."

Evelyn blinked. "What?"

"You didn't know?"

Her mind raced. "Of course not. I spoke to Eddie a couple of hours ago. If I had known don't you think I would have said something? I sure as hell know he would have."

"So, in the space of ten minutes he just picked your husband's name out of a hat?"

"I'm not saying he isn't a client, I'm saying I didn't know that." Evelyn stared at him. "You don't believe me?"

Ben shook his head. "This case lands in my lap, you land in my lap and now your husband lands in my lap. An awful lot of coincidences."

"I..."

"Regardless of whether you knew or not you can no longer work on this case."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Maybe, but that's the way it is."

Evelyn leaned across the desk towards him. "I've done a lot of work on this case and Sandra Kellerman trusts me, not to mention the fact that Eddie and I are separated and I had no knowledge that..."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter! If you're calling my integrity into question then it most certainly does matter!"

"You keep reminding me, Mrs Burns, that you've been doing this job for a long time so you know as well as I do that it is the perception of impropriety that is the issue, not whether there is, in fact, any impropriety!" Ben snapped. "If Bosco is involved and some way down the line we have to make some sort of deal with him, the fact that you worked on this case could mean allegations of preferential treatment!"

"Eddie and I are separated!" she exclaimed again. "If anything it would make me more likely not to do any favours for him!"

"There are at least a dozen other cases on your desk needing attention," Ben said, indicating that the discussion was at an end. "Focus on them and I'll find someone else to assist me on this case."

Evelyn straightened up and glared at him, quickly realising that any understanding they had come to over the course of the last twenty-four hours had instantly evaporated. "Fine, Mr Stone. You do that."

Chapter Text

"I hope you realise what a massive inconvenience this is for Mr Bosco," Edward said as he strode into Ben's office several hours later followed by an equally irritated looking Philip Bosco. "Not to mention for me."

"Well I'm sorry for intruding on your client's time," Ben said, deliberately not apologising for what he knew irked Edward more, "but given the seriousness of the situation..."

"Yes, yes, yes," Edward waved his hand as they took their seats at the table. "I've advised Mr Bosco to be open and honest with you regarding this debacle."

"Well that's good to know," Ben said, sitting opposite, Claire in the corner.

Edward, catching sight of her, narrowed his eyes "And you are...?"

"Claire Kincaid."

"Miss Kincaid is assisting me." When he had asked Claire if she could be spared to sit in the interview with him, she had told him that it wouldn't be a problem given Jack had already left for the weekend to attend a bike convention. Must be nice to have a hobby, he had remarked.

"Ah yes...well I wouldn't expect anything less of you Ben than to have a glamorous young assistant by your side. Pity...I was expecting my bitch of a wife but I guess you can't have everything. Now..."

Ben's eyes widened slightly at the casual way Edward had spoken so derogatorily about Evelyn, but if he had wanted to make comment on it, the moment was lost by the other man ploughing on.

"As I said, Mr Bosco is prepared to be open and honest with you about what happened with Miss Kellerman."

Ben turned to the other man, the wealthiest tycoon in New York and asked him the question. "Did you rape and assault Sandra Kellerman?"

Bosco opened his mouth but Edward jumped in. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's a perfectly legitimate question."

"Mr Bosco is here as a potential witness, nothing more. I don't see any police officers present, he hasn't been given any Miranda rights so where exactly you think you're going with this..."

"All right," Ben said. "Mr Bosco, can you tell us what you know about the events of May 12th this year."

Bosco licked his lips. "I went to Sandra's apartment around four-thirty. She usually gets home from work around four so I knew she'd be there. She let me in, we talked a little, we made love and then I left around five-thirty."

"And what did you do after?"

"I went home to my wife and children."

"Were you aware that Sandra was having a relationship with Michael Richmond?"

"Yes, I knew. I didn't like it but there was hardly anything I could do about it given my own...situation. My wife obviously is not aware of my relationship with Sandra and I want to keep it that way."

"Did you threaten Miss Kellerman when she tried to end the relationship with you?"

"Of course not."

Ben looked down at the papers in front of him. "You didn't use any protection?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm asking if you used a condom when you and Miss Kellerman had sex, sir."

"Oh..." Bosco looked slightly uncomfortable. "No."

"Was that usual?" Claire asked.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Edward asked. "You clearly have his DNA so you know he didn't use a condom and whether that was usual or not is purely between him and Miss Kellerman."

"Then you admit that it is your DNA that was found inside Miss Kellerman?" Ben asked.

"Yes, it must be."

"And as far as you're concerned, the sex was consensual?"

"Of course it was!" Bosco replied indignantly. "Sandra was...is...very fond of me Mr Stone. She never needed much persuading in that department."

"We have Sandra's phone records," Ben pulled out a sheet of paper. "Every other day for the past year, she's called you at your office. After May 12th, not one call."

"So?"

"So, why is that? It seems a little odd that right after she was raped, she stopped calling."

"Ok, you've had your shot in the barrel," Edward said, getting to his feet. "Mr Bosco has told you that he had sex with Miss Kellerman that afternoon and that the DNA found belongs to him. Anything else pertaining to their relationship is completely irrelevant and, if you want to ask him any further questions, then I suggest we arrange a mutually convenient time and he will happily attend a police precinct of your choice where he can be afforded his full rights. Will there be anything else?"

Ben sighed. "No, for now."

"Good," Edward opened the office door and allowed Bosco to go through first. "It was nice to see you again, Ben. Now that you've got Evelyn working for you I expect your conviction rates to drop dramatically. Sorry to break it to you, but she's not much of an attorney. Her talents definitely lie...elsewhere...more specifically, on her back."

"I think that's for me to judge, sir, don't you?"

"I'm sure you'd love to," the other man shot him a sanctimonious smile and then left the room.

"Wow," Claire said when they were alone.

"I know. He's an arrogant son-of-a-bitch."

"I was talking about Burns."

"Yeah," Ben said, shaking his head. "So was I."

XXXX

In the four hours since Ben had taken her off the case, Evelyn had attacked the rest of her outstanding work with gusto. She had agreed a plea on a Sullivan violation with 2 years probation and 500 hours community service, arranged an appointment at Rikers for the following Monday to meet a woman and her attorney in relation to a money-laundering indictment and spoken three times on the phone to Mike Logan about a suspect currently in custody on a potential homicide charge. It was a good afternoon's work, or it would have been had she not been told by Celia, when she had asked her to finalise the plea, that it all had to be signed off by Ben.

Fifteen years, she said to herself. Fifteen years I've been an attorney defending murderers, rapists, fraudsters...and I can't even get a Sullivan violation plea confirmed without an agreement from on high...welcome to public service...

"So this is where you're hiding."

The sound of his voice made her heart sink into her boots. It would have been one thing to meet him in the course of a consultation about the case as equals, quite another for him to decide to take the opportunity to try and intimidate her. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she had already taken the biggest step in freeing herself from him and swung her chair around to face him. "Eddie."

He made a pretence of looking around her cubicle as though sizing up some potential real estate. "Well it's not exactly the corner office with the picture window that you're used to but I suppose it suits you." She said nothing. "I just came from a meeting with your boss."

"Good for you."

"I thought you were involved in this ridiculous rape case?"

"Not anymore."

"Oh dear..." he smirked. "I guess that's my fault, but Philip Bosco was insistent on my representation. I was very sorry when I walked in to find Stone had replaced you with that raven haired beauty Miss Kincaid, but I guess assistants are interchangeable here. So what has he assigned you to then, traffic violations?"

"I'm a felony assistant," she replied. "I have plenty work to do and a timescale to do it in, so if you don't mind..."

He leaned against the corner and suddenly changed tact. "You're very sexy when you're being strong-willed you know. Let's have dinner tonight."

Evelyn laughed mirthlessly. "Let's not."

Edward's eyes hardened, "Why not?"

"Because I told you on the phone that I had nothing to discuss with you and I meant it."

"Oh come on...for old time's sake."

"Old time's sake? That's a joke. We're separated, Eddie and the sooner I can divorce you the better." She got to her feet to move past him, only for him to reach out and grab her arm. Gasping, she tried to pull free, causing him to tighten his grip. "Let me go..."

He pulled her into him, his mouth inches from hers. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, Evelyn, but you've have your fun. Now I've asked you nicely..."

"And I've turned you down, nicely," she said. "And if you don't let go of my arm I'm going to start screaming and, this time, everyone's going to hear me." He squeezed her arm tighter but she kept her gaze levelled with his, determined that he wasn't going to know just how painful it was or how much he frightened her.

"Is there a problem here?"

Edward suddenly released her, stepped back and Evelyn caught sight of Ben standing behind him, his expression less than pleasant though his tone was measured.

"No problem at all," Edward replied. "I was just having a conversation with my wife."

Ben glanced between them. "I think your business is finished here, sir. If you need someone to show you off the premises..."

"I don't," Edward snorted, "but thank you for the offer." He turned back to Evelyn. "I'll see you again soon, darling." Then he lifted his briefcase and turned in the direction of the elevators. She watched him go, arrogance oozing out of every step and wished, not for the first time, that she could just shoot him in the back.

"Are you all right?"

The sound of Ben's voice brought her back to reality and she realised she was rubbing her arm. Looking down, she could see the angry red marks his fingers had left there. Not for the first time. "Fine."

He stepped towards her. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," she replied quickly. "Not at all. Am I allowed to ask how it went?"

"Well Bosco admitted he was there and that he and Sandra had sex and that he left at five-thirty. He denies ever threatening her when she wanted to finish the relationship. We didn't get much further than that before your husband shut us down."

"Hardly surprising," Evelyn said, sitting back down at her desk.

Ben paused. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," she said sharply. "Look, I need you to sign off on this plea for a Sullivan violation. Apparently I can't do anything around here without it being double and triple checked." She handed him the papers and he pulled out his glasses to read them. "I'm pretty sure it's all in order."

"It looks fine."

"Good."

He paused. "I'm sorry I had to take you off the case."

"Are you?" she replied pettily.

"I didn't have a choice."

She sighed heavily. She knew he was right, but it still rankled. "I know. It's just..."

"Just what?" he asked when she didn't continue.

"I thought I was making a new start here...away from Eddie and yet...he still has the ability to screw everything up for me." She looked up and met his gaze. "I like working here. For the first time in a long time I feel as though I'm doing something worthwhile. I guess that sounds like a terrible cliché but..."

"No it doesn't, Mrs Burns," Ben said. "Not at all and, for the record, he's not going to screw anything up for you. Not here."

"Thank you. Will you do me a favour?" she asked, as he turned back towards his office.

"What?"

"Will you call me Evelyn? Mrs Burns just makes me feel...well..."

"All right," he replied. "I suppose that means you can call me Ben."

XXXX

"It's Friday night," Susan observed. "Shouldn't you be out doing something?"

"Like what?"

"Meeting some friends, going to the movies...I don't know, anything except sitting around here in your pyjamas stuffing your face with chips."

Evelyn paused, her hand halfway to her mouth and looked at her mother. "Maybe this is how I want to spend my Friday night."

"I don't believe that for a moment. You and Edward were never at home on a Friday night. Dinner, the theatre, the movies..."

"That was his choice, not mine." It had been exhausting. A full week's work and then Eddie had wanted to be seen out in town. They had always managed to run into someone he knew and she mostly ended up in a corner, talking to nobody and wishing she was somewhere else.

"What about those girls you used to go out with? What were their names...Janet...Janice?"

"Janette and Emily."

"Exactly. Whatever happened to them?"

Evelyn sighed, "I have no idea." In truth, she hadn't seen either of them for years. They had been at law school together and, in the early years of her marriage, they would meet up in bars, drink cocktails and moan about their love lives or lack thereof. But Eddie had never liked them and would frequently pressurise her into saying no whenever they wanted to meet up. Eventually, the invitations stopped coming and she had no idea if either of them were still in the city.

Susan sat down on the couch opposite her daughter. "Evelyn...if there's things you want to talk about...I'm happy to listen."

Evelyn looked at her, "Are you? You never were before."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You and Dad were so happy when I married Eddie. You thought he was the best thing that could ever have happened to me. You watched, all those years, while he chipped away at me, made me dependent on him, took away what life I had before, hurt me..."

"That's nonsense!" Susan exclaimed. "We barely ever saw you! The two of you were so busy building up that firm and living life on the town. You never had time to come and visit us."

"Did you ever think, that I didn't have a choice in that?" Evelyn asked, her voice tight.

Susan got to her feet. "I don't know what to think, Evelyn. I never do." With that, she swept out of the room into the kitchen and started banging pots and pans around.

"That's right Mom," Evelyn said, sinking back down into the couch. "Out of sight, out of mind."

XXXX

"I'll admit, I was a bit surprised when you called."

Ben smiled ruefully as Paul sat down opposite him. "Yeah, I guess you would be. I...uh...I wanted to talk."

"What about?"

"Oh, you know...stuff...how's the new job?"

"Good," Paul replied. "I like the people and even the client's aren't half bad most of the time. It's different, but they say a change is as good as a rest, right?"

"Right," Ben replied, signalling the waiter for some drinks. "I...uh...I didn't react well when you told me you were leaving, I realise that. I guess that I didn't want change. I was happy with the way things were. But I wasn't fair to you and...well...I'm sorry."

"Wow," Paul said, "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Yeah, well..." Ben shrugged. "Anyway, here's to your success." They clinked glasses and he took a long drink of beer.

"I hear you've got fresh meat," Paul said. "Evelyn Burns. I can imagine your reaction when you found out she was going to be your new assistant."

"Well...I wasn't particularly fair to her either."

"You seem to be making a habit of it."

Ben met his friend's gaze. "She's...she's not what I expected. I suppose I thought she'd be just like her husband when, in reality, she couldn't be more different."

"It wouldn't take much to be different from him. Besides, she's left him, hasn't she?" Ben nodded. "Not before time. The way I hear it, she's been his punching bag for years."

Ben's mind flashed back to the incident he had witnessed between Edward and Evelyn that afternoon. There had been no mistaking the anxiety on her face, nor the way she had held her arm in pain after he left.

"Son-of-a-bitch."

Chapter Text

"So what exactly am I looking at here?"

Evelyn looked across the table at Mary Fellowes, currently remanded in Rikers on charges of money-laundering at the company where she worked. She was a nice looking woman, in her late 40s, with an attitude in her expression that didn't quite match the uncertainty in her eyes. She was clearly afraid of what was going to happen to her, especially as she was the only defendant who hadn't been able to make bail.

"You're involved in laundering almost five hundred thousand dollars," Evelyn said. "That's second degree and a class C felony."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning fifteen years in prison."

"Up to fifteen years," her lawyer commented as Mary turned towards her looking horrified. "Besides, she's the key to the whole operation. If you want the big fish, you need to throw the little fish some juicy bait."

"If you're prepared to roll on the others, we'll drop it down to fourth degree. That's a class E felony and we'll recommend two years."

"Two years in prison?" Mary exclaimed.

"It's got to be better than fifteen, surely?"

"I want immunity."

"Well, you're not going to get it," Evelyn said, pushing back her chair. "Now I've told you what the deal is. It's the best I can do. If you're not interested..."

"Hold on," the lawyer gestured to Mary and they huddled in a corner briefly before returning to the table. "She gives you it all, she pleads in the fourth degree, she does no time."

Evelyn shook her head, "She has to do some time. Two years or fifteen, Mrs Fellowes, take your pick."

Mary sighed, "Those bastards. Why do the men get away with everything and the women have to carry the can?"

"If you tell me what you know they won't be getting away with anything," Evelyn said. "I guarantee it."

Half an hour later, armed with the information she needed, she was in the middle of signing herself out of the block when she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Just the person I was looking for." Turning, she saw Josh standing behind her. "I've been calling your office for the past hour, is nobody home?"

"Well, as you can see, I'm here. What's the problem?"

"My client wants to talk," he said, leaning into her. "Apparently, he wants to confess."

"Confess? I thought he was adamant that the sex was consensual?"

"Well over the weekend he appears to have changed his mind," Josh made a face. "He wants a meeting with Stone. Can you set it up?"

"Well I can pass on the message but I'm not working on the case anymore."

"Why not?"

"There's a third party involved and he happens to be represented by Edward so..."

"Ah yes, the perception of impropriety. I'm betting Stone was all over that. I'm assuming you mean Philip Bosco."

Evelyn frowned. "How do you know about him?"

"I didn't until Michael Richmond told me about him. Something about Bosco being involved has got him awful spooked. Look, I don't know how he's going to hold up. He was unbelievably jumpy when I saw him. Can't you come and see him now?"

"I told you, I'm not on the case anymore. I'll let Ben know and have him call your office."

"Fine," Josh said, in a tone that indicated it was anything but fine. "I guess that'll have to do."

"I guess it will." Evelyn watched as he turned and walked away from her, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to Michael's sudden change of heart than meets the eye.

XXXX

"He wants to confess?" Ben took off his glasses and looked at her as she relayed the conversation. "To the whole thing?"

"That was the impression I got," Evelyn replied. "Josh didn't look too happy about it but what can he do? He said Michael had gotten jumpy when he heard Bosco was involved."

"But how did he know Bosco was involved?"

"I don't know."

"Something doesn't feel right."

"I agree," she said. "Do you want me to tell Claire, get her to set up a meeting for you at Rikers?"

"Yeah," Ben nodded. "I'll call Lieberman and see if I can get anything more out of him about his client's sudden change of heart. What about Mary Fellowes?"

"I dealt her down to fourth degree and told her we'd recommend two years in prison. For that, she rolled on all of them. Porter, Haywood and Lehrman. I think she'll be a good witness at trial, if we get there. She's angry enough."

"When are we set down for?"

"Three weeks time."

He felt a plan formulating in his mind. "Call all the attorneys. Let's get them in for a meeting, one at a time, and see if anybody else is prepared to take the fall. If we can get an overall plea deal out of this we'll be laughing all the way to the bank."

"Sure," Evelyn turned for the door.

"How was your weekend?"

"Fine," she turned back, somewhat surprised by his enquiry. In truth it had been fairly non-eventful. After arguing with her mother on Friday night she had gone to bed early, gone to the gym Saturday morning then taken herself out for a long lunch with a book. Susan had made dinner Saturday night and they had been cordial with each other, or at least as much as they could be. Sunday, she had gone out to meet her book club and Evelyn had spent the day lolling about reading the paper and, eventually doing some work. The phone had rung twice that afternoon, but each time she had picked up the receiver, there had been nobody there. "What about yours?"

"Oh...pretty quiet," Ben replied. "My kids were meant to come down from Connecticut but, well, they're teenagers."

"I didn't realise you had kids."

"Yup, boy and a girl."

"Is that them?" she moved to the side and gestured to the photographs on the ledge behind his desk.

"Peter and Pamela," he nodded.

"They look like you," she observed, smiling and pointing at a black and white shot of him holding one of the children up to the camera. "Love the hair."

Ben laughed. "Well it was the seventies."

"Eddie never wanted kids. I guess he figured they would cramp his style."

"What about you?"

"Four miscarriages in fifteen years...you start to realise someone's trying to tell you something," she replied.

Ben paused, wondering how, even if, he should raise the incident that had taken place with Edward the previous week. But, at the end of the day, he was her boss and he had a responsibility towards her, whether he wanted it or not. "You know...we don't often do things well in the workplace, especially when it comes to women and I would never want to be accused of prying into anyone's private life, least of all yours..."

"But?"

"If your husband threatens you in this office again, I want to know about it." She stared at him. "I know he put his hands on you and I don't want..."

"That's not what happened."

"Isn't it?"

"It's none of your business!" She started backing towards the door. "What, we move to first name terms and all of a sudden you think it qualifies you to pass comment on my personal life?"

"Evelyn..."

"Just stay out of it Ben, ok? It has absolutely nothing to do with you!" Before he could say anything else, she hurried out of the office, the door slamming behind her.

Well...he said to himself once the blinds had stopped shaking. That went well.

XXXX

Ben sighed and shook his head. "This is your meeting sir. Now if you have something you want to tell us, let's get on with it and not waste any more of each other's time." He and Claire had been at Rikers meeting with Michael Richmond and his attorney for almost half an hour and nothing of any great substance had been discussed. Josh had been particularly cagey on the phone when Ben had called him earlier, saying only that his client wanted to talk.

"This isn't easy for me, Mr Stone," Michael said nervously. "I've never been in this position. I don't..." he ran a hand over his hair. "I don't even know how to say it."

"Say what, Mr Richmond? That you raped Sandra Kellerman?"

Michael looked at him, his expression stricken. "Yes," he said after a long moment. "Yes, I did it."

Ben levelled his gaze, "Why did you do it?"

"Because...because I knew she was seeing Philip Bosco," Michael said. "And I didn't like it."

"So, rather than end the relationship you decided to rape her and then beat her to a pulp?"

"It wasn't...it wasn't like that. I...God..." he put his head in his hands. "I just wanted to talk to her about it, to make her see that it was stupid to keep chasing after him. He was never going to leave his wife and he just used her whenever he felt like it. But she wouldn't listen to me so..." he took a breath. "I made her listen."

Ben and Claire exchanged glances. "You understand that you're admitting to first degree rape?" the latter asked. "Not to mention attempted murder?"

"Come on counsellors, we can do something with the attempted murder charge, can't we?" Josh said. "Assault in the second degree."

"Assault in the first degree," Ben replied. "He attacked Miss Kellerman whilst committing the felony rape."

"Look," Michael said, "I don't care, ok? I'll plead to whatever you want. I just want this to be over."

XXXX

"He's admitting it?" Sandra Kellerman looked stunned at the news. "I...I don't understand..."

"There's not much to misunderstand Miss Kellerman," Ben said. "Mr Richmond is accepting that he raped you and assaulted you. He'll plead to those charges and you'll be spared having to give evidence at trial."

"But..." she looked between him and Claire. "I just...I never thought he'd admit it. The police said he was adamant he didn't do it."

"Sometimes a stay in Rikers can do that," Claire said.

"Yes, but isn't he just going to spend more time there?" Sandra asked. "I mean, what sentence will he get?"

"He'll serve five to twenty-five on both the rape and the assault. We can ask for those sentences to be served consecutively..."

"Consecutively?"

"One after the other," he explained, "but the court is more likely to order they run concurrently, at the same time."

"So he could be out again in five years?"

"Maybe," Ben said, "but only if he convinces a parole board that he's no longer a danger to you or any woman."

Sandra let out a shaky breath and nodded her head. "Ok," she said, "ok. If he can live with that, so can I. Thank you Mr Stone," she got to her feet. "Will you thank Mrs Burns for me too?"

"I will," Ben replied, as she left the office.

Claire turned to him once the door had closed behind her, "If he can live with that, so can I? Something doesn't sound right there."

"You think Richmond's lying?"

"I think it sounded as though he and Sandra had come up with this plan between them," she replied.

Ben sighed, "Call Judge Markham's clerk. He's on the calendar for pleas next week. See if you can set up a pre-sentencing hearing. And make sure Lieberman knows about it too."

XXXX

It was later that evening, as he was just finishing up his paperwork for the day, that there was a soft knock at his office door and Evelyn appeared, looking pale. Closing the door, she moved towards the desk, twisting her wedding band with her fingers.

"I...I wanted to apologise."

"What for?"

"For my reaction earlier when you were talking about Eddie." She looked at the floor. "It's not...I mean...well it's not something I've ever really talked to anybody about. I suppose, for a long time, I convinced myself that what went on in our home was normal and then by the time I realised it wasn't, I figured nobody would be interested anyway. Not even my family. I thought my deal in life was to be married to him and to just...live with it. It took a lot for me to eventually leave and I still sometimes question whether or not I did the right thing."

"I can understand that."

She looked up and met his gaze. "Can you?"

"I'm divorced too."

"I'm betting you didn't treat your wife the way Eddie treated me."

"No..." he agreed, "but I'd be lying if, even ten years down the line, I said I didn't sometimes wonder if we could have made it work, even though I know we couldn't. Have you retained a divorce attorney?" She nodded. "Well that's something."

"He's not going to make it easy for me, I know that. Trying to sort out the finances is going to be a nightmare. He already had my car repossessed and he's stopped what little spousal support he agreed to pay me...but I guess it's better than the alternative." She rubbed her hand over her face. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this..."

Ben got to his feet and moved towards her. "I meant what I said before. If he threatens you or hurts you, then I want to know about it. He's an arrogant son-of-a-bitch, used to getting his own way and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to charge him with felony assault."

Evelyn frowned. "So you want him to hit me?"

"No, of course not, that's the last thing I want..."

"You said I should tell you if he did anything to me at work. Now you want me to tell you if he does anything to me at all? What are you hoping for, Ben? That he'll beat me up one night so I can come running to you?"

"That's not..."

"Will that make you feel like you got your own back because he rang rings around you in your own office last week?" Ben stared at her, amazed at how quickly she had turned. "He shut you down over Philip Bosco so now you want some sort of revenge?"

"I am more concerned about the fact that he physically assaulted you not five feet away from my office door! As for his attitude, yes I found him arrogant, yes I don't like him, no I am not interested in any form of revenge!"

"That's not what it sounds like!"

"Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not! I'm..." she broke off, taking a gulp of air. "I'm not defending him..."

"Evelyn..."

She stepped back and put her hands up. "Let's just leave it, ok? I'm not working on the case that Eddie's involved in so I have no reason to talk to you about him or to talk to him so...let's just forget either of us ever said anything."

"Ok," he said, "if that's what you want."

"It is," she replied. "I should go, it's getting late."

He watched her leave, again, and couldn't help but think that, separated or not, Edward Burns still had a hell of a lot of control over her.

Chapter Text

"I don't see the point of this meeting," Josh Lieberman said.

"Quite frankly, neither do I Mr Stone," Judge Markham agreed. "Mr Lieberman's client is confessing to the offence, saving the people the cost of a trial and you're complaining? Surely you should be pleased."

"Uh...I'm only pleased when suspects confess truthfully," Ben replied.

"You think Mr Richmond is lying?"

"I don't think he's being completely honest, no."

"What do you want, Stone, a confession in blood?" Josh asked.

"If he did the crimes then I want him to go to jail, but if he didn't..."

"So what are you suggesting?" Judge Markham asked. "That we hold a trial with the accused putting his hands up to it all? What's the point?"

"The point is the truth," Ben said angrily. "Now I believe Mr Richmond's confession to be a plea of convenience..."

"Convenience? He's going to jail" Josh exclaimed. "It's certainly not going to be convenient for him!"

"Your Honour..." Ben leaned forward. "At the end of last week Mr Richmond was adamant that he was going to trial now this week he wants to confess...I think there's more to this."

"The man's allowed to change his mind."

"There is a third party involved here and..."

"This has got absolutely nothing to do with Philip Bosco," Josh interrupted. "Mr Richmond accepts his guilt. Can we just set a date for an allocution hearing and be done with it?"

"I agree," Judge Markham said.

"Your Honour..."

"No, Mr Stone. I am not putting the state to the cost of a trial where the suspect takes no issue with the evidence. I'll hear his allocution tomorrow and that's an end to it."

Ben sighed and got to his feet, Josh following him to the door of the judge's chambers. "Smile Ben, it's one less case on your plate."

"I hope it doesn't weigh heavy on your conscience, sir," Ben turned to him. "If a client of mine was pleading guilty to offences I suspected he hadn't committed it would certainly weigh heavy on mine."

"You've never been a defence attorney," Josh smiled. "Talk to Evelyn, I bet she won't be having any sleepless nights over it."

Ben watched the other man leave, shaking his head as he did so. No, he had never been a defence attorney, but if he had, he would like to think he would have as much regard for the truth as he had working at the DA's office. And as for talking to Evelyn...well that was a shaky subject.

XXXX

"I was kind of surprised when you wanted to meet here."

Evelyn bit into her sandwich and shrugged. "It seemed less formal."

"Divorce is a formal process and I'm your attorney," Veronica Sellers replied. "You really want to discuss your private business in a diner?"

"I really don't care. Look, what happens now?"

"Well, I've drafted a separation agreement which, if you're happy with, I'll get sent to Edward's lawyers. It sets out what we want in terms of a division of assets before the formal adjudication."

"So what am I getting?"

"I've requested a traditional split of 50:50. You worked full time, there are no children of the marriage...it's the fairest outcome."

Evelyn laughed, "No way Eddie agrees to that. If he can find a way to convince a judge I'm entitled to nothing, he'll do it."

"Well he'll have a hard job," Veronica said. "You were married for fifteen years. You're entitled to an equal share of the matrimonial assets which includes the Manhattan apartment, the house in Sag Harbor, savings and pensions. In an ideal world, his attorney will convince him to agree and we can start the transfer process straightaway."

"In an ideal world?"

"In reality, men like Edward will do anything to avoid having to pay out."

"But I walked away with nothing," Evelyn said. "I left him everything, surely he has to agree to something?"

Veronica sighed, "I usually don't encourage women to leave unless they have something agreed in writing. By leaving, you've left him in control of all of the assets and in a strong position to make things difficult for you."

"So I should just have stayed?"

"You stayed for fifteen years...couldn't you have contacted me and then left?"

Evelyn looked down at the table, "No. I had to get away." The events of that last day flashed into her mind and she tried to push them away. "You know, I thought I'd feel better about leaving him, but most of the time I just feel like shit. I've taken my boss's head off more than once and he's only been trying to help."

"You took Adam Schiff's head off?"

"No, Ben Stone's."

"Ah. Have you considered therapy?"

"What, you think I'm crazy?"

"No, of course not," Veronica said. "But you've just come out of a turbulent fifteen year marriage. I can tell that even if you haven't been completely honest about your reasons for leaving. Consider therapy a safe place to vent to someone who has no stake in it. It might stop you from having a go at Ben Stone. He's got quite a good looking head for you to be regularly taking off." Evelyn laughed. "I'll send you over some names. I really think it's something you should seriously consider."

"Ok," Evelyn said. "If you think it'll help."

"Only you know that. But it can't hurt."

XXXX

"His fingerprints were found on the gun."

"Circumstantial. He lived in the home where the gun was kept. It's not unreasonable to think he might have had cause to hold it."

"He had a motive, the money."

"Which is held in a trust that he can't touch until he's twenty-five. What would be the point of killing his father now?"

Mike Logan turned to her, his expression tight with annoyance, "Well why the hell did you come down here if you were just going to sandbag us?"

"I'm not sandbagging you," Evelyn replied. "But there is no point in arresting someone if the charges are automatically going to be dismissed. What else do you have?"

Lennie Briscoe sighed. "He told his friends he hated his old man."

"I probably told my friends that when I was in high school, didn't you?"

"My old man didn't end up shot in the head."

"What about his alibi?"

"The mother says she was with him," Mike said, "but I have my doubts that she's being truthful."

"She wouldn't be the first mother to lie for her child," Evelyn said. "If I were you, I'd take another run at her and see if you can find any holes in what she's said. Without something more, this kid's walking out of here."

"Thanks a lot counsellor," Lennie said. "I guess the DA's office will be paying for the overtime."

"Call me if you get anything else," she said, lifting her jacket and leaving the squad room. She knew they were frustrated, she was too, but like she had said there would be no point in arresting the kid if he was just going to walk away.

The call had come in just after she had gotten back to the office after lunch. The 2-7 had a kid in custody, Todd Masters, on suspicion of shooting his father, Peter Masters, with his own gun. The family dynamic appeared pretty screwed up. Successful, yet occasionally violent father, alcoholic mother and a son not sure where he fitted in. It was your classic TV movie of the week.

And I think my life's a mess, she thought to herself on the way back to the office. At least no-one's ended up dead.

As she got in the elevator, she was joined by Claire, who filled her in on the outcome of Ben's hearing regarding Michael Richmond. She knew he would be angry and whilst part of her thought it might be better to give him a wide berth for a while, another part thought she should at least lend him her support, even if she wasn't on the case and their relationship was precarious. Back at her desk, she saw a telephone message from Veronica and a list of names copied out in Celia's handwriting. Lifting it, she made her way over to Ben's door and knocked.

"Come in."

She pushed the door open and found him standing at the bookcase. "Claire told me that you had a hearing with Judge Markham about Michael Richmond?"

"For all the good it did. I don't think for a second that man's being truthful in his confession but nobody else seems to give a damn, least of all his lawyer. Allocution's set down for tomorrow."

"So Michael goes to jail and Philip Bosco's name never sees the light of day."

"Apparently not and if you ask me, it's Bosco that Michael Richmond's protecting."

Evelyn frowned, "Why would he do that?"

Ben sighed. "I wish I knew." He looked at her. "Lieberman said that defence attorneys don't really care if their clients plead guilty when they're innocent, or words to that effect. Is that true?"

"I suppose some don't," she replied. "Much as I suppose there are some prosecutors who don't care if the wrong man goes to jail."

"Not in this office."

"You'd be surprised," she said. "Not everyone is as in love with the idea of truth and justice as you are, Ben."

"No, I guess not."

Evelyn paused and then passed him the phone message. "Do you know any of the names on this list?"

Ben took it from her and scanned it quickly. "They're all psychologists."

"I know, I wondered if you knew any of them."

"Dr Olivet works for us regularly," he said. "She's terrific."

Evelyn smiled, "Are you speaking from personal experience?"

"Sometimes I think I should be. Are you asking in relation to a case?"

"No," she said, taking back the paper. "It's for me. My attorney thinks I could do with, well, talking to someone. She thinks it might help me not to take things out on other people...like you." He looked at her. "At the risk of us getting into another argument...I'm sorry about what happened before."

"It's ok," he said carefully.

"No, it isn't. You were right when you said I was defending Eddie...maybe that's partly my problem." She sighed. "I'm not sure whether talking to someone will help but...I guess I should give it a go."

"Well, if you're asking for my opinion, I would go with Dr Olivet."

"Thanks," she replied. "I'll give her a call. Maybe six months from now when things are on their way to be sorted and I can go back to being plain old Evelyn Nicholls, I'll be able to look back and, I don't know, laugh?"

"Well," Ben said, "if there's one thing I can say about my divorce, it's that none of it was ever humorous."

XXXX

"You need to let this one go."

"How can I, Adam? The man's confessing to crimes I'm almost certain he didn't commit."

"The evidence would suggest otherwise."

"The evidence..." Ben shook his head as he paced around the room. "I'm not sure I even know what the evidence is anymore. The more I think about it, the more it looks like Philip Bosco is the one at fault here."

"If that's the case, why would the girl say it was Mr Richmond?" Adam asked. "Why would the two of them protect Bosco?"

"I don't know. Money?"

"Is there any evidence of payments made from Bosco to either of them?"

"Well we haven't looked..."

"Exactly, and you've no reason to. Do you really think for one minute that Bosco would agree to an examination of his finances?"

"His lawyer would certainly see to it that we didn't get near them."

"Is that what it's about? His lawyer?"

"No, of course not," Ben sat down on the couch. "I can't stand the man and I'm pretty sure he's helping Bosco in some way but..." he sighed.

"If Michael Richmond wants to take the fall for this, then you can't stop him. All you can do is agree the best sentence you can and, if anything else comes to light in the future, re-open the case." Adam paused. "How are things with you and Mrs Burns?"

"Fine," Ben replied, "we've had a few ups and downs but...she's a hard worker and a good attorney."

"I told you."

"I know you did." He thought back to their earlier conversation. "I think she might need help though."

"You just said she was a good attorney."

"I don't mean about that. I mean about her husband. There's something about their relationship..." he shook his head. "He has a hold over her."

"Well that's none of our business."

"No?" Ben looked at him. "Maybe it should be."

XXXX

"Mr Richmond would like to withdraw his previously tendered pleas of not guilty and replace them with pleas of guilty to both charges."

Ben looked across to where Josh and Michael were standing at the defence table.

"Are the people in agreement?" Judge Markham looked over at him.

Ben paused before rising to his feet. "Yes your Honour."

"Mr Richmond, do you understand the effect of your pleas today?"

"I do," Michael replied.

"Please describe your criminal actions in your own words."

"I went to Sandra's apartment that night. We went out for dinner and when we got back...I wanted sex. She didn't want to and I got angry because...because I knew she had been seeing someone else. So...I raped her and then I hit her." Michael's voice shook slightly. "I want to apologise to Sandra for what I did. I'll always regret it because...because I loved her."

Ben glanced over his shoulder to the back of the court room where he had earlier seen Sandra Kellerman slide into a seat. She looked upset, her cheeks glistening with tears, her eyes wide.

"Has a sentence been agreed?"

"Yes, your Honour, we've agreed on fifteen years on each charge, to be served concurrently."

"Very well," Judge Markham said, "I sentence you to fifteen years to be served in the state correctional facility. We're adjourned." He banged his gavel and rose from his seat.

Ben stood and closed his briefcase, turning in time to see Sandra slip out of the room before he watched Michael be escorted back into custody. His expression seemed almost one of relief and though he knew he had to let it go, it was proving more difficult than he could have imagined.

"It was nice negotiating with you Ben," Josh said, extending his hand. "You should come for a round of golf with Edward and I sometime."

"I don't play golf," Ben replied, ignoring the gesture.

"Now, there's no point in sour grapes, counsellor. It's a good result all round." Josh smiled. "Case closed."

"No it isn't," Ben resolved under his breath as the other man walked away. "Not by a long shot."

XXXX

"Working late?" Evelyn asked, coming into his office. It was well after seven and almost everyone else had left for the night, but she had noticed his light still on.

"Well it's either this or an empty apartment," he replied. "Not that I'm getting anywhere fast." He tossed the papers onto the desk in front of him and leaned back in his chair.

"Richmond?" Ben nodded. "How was he at the allocution?"

"Calm, concise...barely even broke a sweat."

"You know there's nothing you can do, right?"

"I know." He looked over at her. "Lieberman invited me to play golf with him and your husband sometime."

"Oh God," she made a face. "I hope you declined."

"I did."

"You don't want to be in that club, believe me." She ran her fingers along the edge of the desk. "I called Dr Olivet. I've got my first session with her at the end of the week."

"That's good," he said, "I hope it helps."

"Yeah, me too. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night."

Evelyn made for the door and then stopped. "Do you...uh...?"

Ben looked up, "What?"

"I just wondered if you wanted to grab something to eat or...a drink. My mother's out with some friends this evening and after the day you've had, I'd feel terrible about you just going back to an empty apartment..." she smiled. "Not to mention I could do with some adult company where I didn't feel like I was being interrogated all the time. First Eddie, now my mother..."

Ben paused for the briefest of moments. "Sure," he said, "why not?"

Chapter Text

"We met in college," Ben said, as the waiter brought them their drinks and retrieved their menus. "I was majoring in English and she was doing creative art. She used to wear these little miniskirts and walk around with a paintbrush behind her ear and a satchel across her shoulder."

"Sounds very bohemian," Evelyn said. They were sitting in Fornellis, an Italian restaurant around the corner from the office. It had been her suggestion and, once she had made it, she had suddenly worried that he might think she was asking him on some sort of date. But he had agreed that it was an ideal place. It was busy, but not overly crowded so there had been no difficulty in getting a table near the back and she couldn't help but be slightly surprised at how easy the conversation had been flowing, and the subjects they were touching upon.

"She was, back then. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen," he said with a wistful smile. "I told my roommate that I was going to marry her."

"Is she an artist?"

"For a time in the early seventies, but the market wasn't particularly lucrative so she moved into fashion design and marketing. She worked as a buyer for Bloomingdales for a while until we got married and the kids came along."

"She gave it up?"

He nodded. "I thought we were blissfully happy. I was working hard at the DA's office and, to me, she was the perfect mother. Took me a long time to realise that she resented me for what her life had become."

"But surely she wanted to be there for your kids?" Evelyn asked.

"Of course she did, but she always intended to go back to work after a while. I guess my long hours made that impossible for her. Not to mention, back then, it was unusual for women to go back to work after having a family. Maybe a part of me was chauvinistic about it too."

"I don't believe that. You don't treat the women in the office any differently to the men, at least not from what I've seen."

Ben took a slug of his drink. "It can be different when it comes to your own wife and family."

Evelyn looked down into her glass. "I guess I wouldn't know. I met Eddie when I graduated law school and went to work at the firm. His dad was in charge then, he was just a junior associate working his way up. He was...charming, attentive...everything I thought a potential husband should be. We used to go to parties all the time and he would show me off like some sort of trophy. He'd buy me expensive jewellery and clothes, take me to expensive restaurants, on vacation...I never realised at the time it was his way of controlling me. I stopped seeing any of my friends, especially after we got married. Hell, I barely even saw my parents. We were never at home and yet, I never realised that none of the people we spent time with were my people. They were always his." She shivered slightly at the memories.

He looked at her questioningly. "You never thought about leaving sooner?"

"Sure I thought about it plenty of times, especially when he used to be so vocal about not wanting children when I desperately did." She looked up and met his gaze, hoping he couldn't tell that she was minimising. "He was so relieved every time I had a miscarriage."

Ben shook his head, "I can't imagine ever feeling that way. If he loved you..."

"He didn't love me. You've met him. You know as well as I do that Edward Burns loves only Edward Burns." She drained her glass. "You know, maybe I don't need Dr Olivet. You're proving a very acceptable substitute."

Ben laughed, "Oh no, I'm sure there's things you'll tell her that you wouldn't dream of telling me."

Evelyn opened her mouth to reply, but the waiter reappeared with their food at that point and the conversation was naturally broken. As they flurried about with cutlery and napkins, the moment was lost and the talk quickly turned to work and the cases that were outstanding. Evelyn told him about the Masters kid, Ben asked about the trial prep for the money laundering case and they both talked about Michael Richmond. Before long, however, the conversation grew more personal again and Ben talked about Peter and Pamela and how he distant he felt from them at times.

"It must have been hard when your wife said she was taking them to Connecticut."

"At the time I was stunned," he agreed. "But when I thought about it...she's from Hartford, her folks still live up there...I guess it made sense for her to go back. I wanted to fight her for custody but..." he shook his head. "To be honest, I was so shocked that she wanted to get divorced at all that I didn't really put up a fight about anything. Maybe if I had, our relationship would be better now."

"But you said they're teenagers," she said, "isn't that supposed to be the time when you hate your parents? I know I did."

"It's tough when they say they don't want to come down on the weekends," he admitted. "Their lives are there, their friends are there...I thought about trying to transfer up there once to be closer to them."

"Why didn't you?"

"Selfish reasons, I guess. I love the city."

"Me too," she agreed. "Not that I wouldn't like to travel, see new places. Eddie and I went on plenty of exotic vacations, but they were never to places that I really wanted to go. He liked nothing better than lying on a beach in the blistering sunshine and he didn't really give much of a concern as to my pale skin. I'd be sat there under an umbrella, covered in suntan lotion and he'd be slowly cooking like a roast chicken."

"So where would you go, if you had the choice?" Ben asked.

"My cousin Sarah lives in London," she replied. "She married a Brit and moved there almost twenty years ago now. She's always talking about what a beautiful country it is, what a vibrant city...I tried to persuade Eddie to go a few times but he was never keen and any time I suggested I could go myself, he always found some way of persuading me it would be a bad idea." She laughed. "At least I wouldn't have to worry about getting sunburnt. From what I hear, it rains a lot."

As they finished their meal and ordered coffee they talked about places they had been and places they would like to visit before the subject gradually came back to New York and Evelyn mentioned how she was going to have to start looking for an apartment.

"Living back with your mother not everything you thought it would be?" Ben teased.

"Are you kidding, it's worse," she rolled her eyes. "It's incredible how so many years can go by and yet you can still be treated like a kid. Not that I'm not grateful for her letting me move in. I mean, it's not as if I had anywhere else to go."

"Don't you and Edward own other property, other than your apartment?"

"He does, I don't." She stirred her coffee. "I don't even know where to start. I've never had to look for my own place. I went from my parents to student halls, back to my parents and then to Eddie. I've never really lived on my own and I'm forty. How pathetic is that?"

"It's not pathetic," he said. "I have a friend who works in real estate. I could give him a call and see if he could help find you somewhere?"

"That would be great," she said. "The sooner I feel more independent, the better."

The conversation continued to flow easily and, before long, they were leaving the restaurant and heading back out into the evening air, slowly making their way back in the direction of the office.

"You've never been to the top of the Empire State Building?"

"Are you kidding? Me and heights aren't really compatible. Eddie insisted we go for dinner to the Windows of the World restaurant at the World Trade Center once and I literally spent the whole evening trying not to throw up into my plate. Every time I looked out of the window I felt as though the world was spinning. He wasn't particularly happy." Evelyn craned her neck to look up at the buildings surrounding them, their windows dazzling with light in the darkness. "Even looking at the height of these buildings makes me nervous."

"But your old firm is in a high rise, isn't it?"

"Yep, and I sat with my back to the window the entire time I worked there." She looked over at him as they strolled back along the street towards the office. "I know you think I'm crazy."

"Not exactly," he admitted, "but it's close."

"Ok, so what are you afraid of then?" He paused. "Come on, there has to be something and don't say something cerebral like, 'justice not being done.' I mean real fears."

"Well..." he said after a while, "I'm not overly keen on boats."

"Boats?"

"Well...water," he expanded. "Boats and water...especially when it's choppy."

"Do you get seasick?"

"It has been known."

"Well, there you go," she concluded. "My heights thing isn't so crazy after all. I guess the mission then is to get me up the Empire State Building and you on a boat."

"Fortunately, the application of the penal law doesn't really require either of those things," he replied.

"No, I guess not." They stopped at the corner and turned to look at each other. For a moment, Evelyn felt as though she was somewhere else, someone else. Not Evelyn Burns, soon to be ex-wife of the biggest asshole in the city, but Evelyn Nicholls, plain and single. For the first time in a long time she had had a non-work related conversation with a man that hadn't been forced. She hadn't needed to be on her guard all the time lest she say or do something to make him angry and lash out. Ben was so different from Eddie, in so many ways, least of all his eyes. How had she not noticed how light they were? The complete opposite to Eddie's dark pools that had hidden so much. "Thank you," she said.

"What for?"

"The company...dinner...you didn't need to pay."

"Like I said, a gentleman never expects a lady to pay," he shrugged.

"It's been nice just to talk. I don't have many friends. Well...I guess I don't have any friends, not anymore. Unless..." a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Unless you don't think we should be friends. I mean, we're colleagues...you're my boss..."

"Colleagues can be friends," he said. "But you should still see Dr Olivet."

"Oh, I will. You were right earlier when you said there were things I wouldn't...couldn't tell you, even if I wanted to."

"You don't have to explain."

"I know." Again, they just looked at each other and she found herself desperate to know what he was thinking, though she was too nervous to ask. "I suppose I should be getting home. It's past nine and I don't want to break curfew." He laughed. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"I guess so," he replied.

Neither of them made any move to leave and Evelyn realised that she really didn’t want to, despite what she had said. He was standing so close to her now, a necessity due to the crowds on the sidewalk, and she imagined she could almost feel a warmth emanating from him towards her. He held her gaze and she felt him move even further into her and her own breathing start to quicken as a result. His eyes dropped and suddenly she felt his hands on her waist, as though he intended to pull her into him and, almost immediately, feelings flooded her...the kind of feelings she hadn’t felt for a long time. Indeed, for the best part of fifteen years. It felt so strange and yet so welcome. He was the only man, other than Eddie, that had touched her in any way in so long and she found herself pressing against him as he lifted his gaze again to meet hers. Yet even though she knew she had nothing to be concerned about, the thought of her husband alone caused her to suddenly pull back.

"I'm sorry," Ben said almost immediately. "I...I shouldn't have done that."

"No, I'm sorry. It was me, I..." she took a breath. "I should get a cab." Turning, she saw almost to her relief, a vacant one making its way down the street towards them. Sticking out her arm, the driver indicated and pulled slowly to a stop beside them. She turned back to where Ben was still standing, wishing that a suitable thing to say would come to mind. In the end, she settled for the obvious. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he echoed.

She opened the door, slid into the backseat and gave the driver the address. He pulled away from the kerb into the traffic and she found that she couldn't even bear to look back.

XXXX

It was early, ridiculously early, when Ben arrived at the office the next morning but he had reasoned to himself that coming in and doing some work was far preferable to lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about what had happened. She could make a complaint about him. He knew she most likely wouldn't, but she still could. Maybe he should encourage her to do just that. Maybe he needed reprimanded. Colleagues, friends...despite what he had said he was still her superior and he had crossed the line.

Hanging up his jacket and putting his briefcase down on the desk, he thought about how he could approach it with Adam. He knew he should just be upfront, tell the older man what he had done and see what consequences might follow. And yet...if every rumour was to be believed, Jack McCoy, a colleague at the same level of seniority as him, made no secret of the fact that he had slept with half the female population of the office. It was known and nobody cared. But he wasn't Jack McCoy and never would be.

Six years. Six long years since he had been with a woman and even then it had been a short lived thing borne out of a chance encounter and a mutual appreciation for jazz music. He wasn't even sure he could remember one salient fact about her beyond her name. It wasn't his thing, casual relationships. It never had been. He had had two loves in his life, Laura and the DA's office and the latter had always proved to be a hard mistress, unwilling to share him. Then there was Evelyn...a woman he barely knew, someone who had clearly been so badly damaged by an irascible husband that it was doubtful a lifetime of therapy would help, yet someone he felt an undeniable sense of protectiveness towards. When she had been pressed against him, albeit briefly, all he had wanted to do was tell her that she was worth more than Edwards Burns had clearly led her to believe she was.

Why had he done it? Why had he touched her? Why had he thought he had any right to touch her? What had made him reach out, put his hands on her waist and allowed her to move herself against him? It wasn't like him to be so brazen, so forwards, so...tactile. And yet, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world, touching her, being close to her...

But it was a fool's errand, thinking about her like that so, pushing all thoughts of her as far out of his mind as he could, he tackled all the tasks that had been building up on his desk but which he had so far avoided completing. As always happened, he became engrossed and it was only when the noise level outside his office door began to grow that he realised the working day had properly begun.

The coffee from the machine wasn't the best but he made do with it, and it was as he was turning back towards his office, plastic cup in hand, that he saw her stepping out of the elevator. He paused, as did she for the briefest of seconds before continuing on towards him, moving slightly past him so that she could put her bag down on her desk.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," he returned the greeting and then made his way into his office, wondering if she would follow. She didn't, so he returned to what he had been doing and forced down the hot, bitter liquid until there was a knock on the door and she appeared.

"I've had a message from the 2-7. They've brought the Masters kid back in again for questioning about his father's murder and they want me to go down. Sounds like we might have enough to charge this time."

"Good."

Evelyn hovered slightly. "About last night..."

"You would be well within your rights to put in a complaint," he said before she could continue. "I was...out of order and...well...I wouldn't hold it against you." Looking up, he saw the surprise on her face. "If you want to be reassigned, I'd have no difficulty with that either and I'd recommend you to whomever you chose."

"I don't understand," she said after a long moment of silence. "There's no way I would complain about you and, as for being reassigned...is that what you want?"

"No."

"It's not what I want either."

"Fine," he looked back down at the papers on his desk, "But you should think about the complaint."

"Why in God's name would I make a complaint against you?" she asked. "I was equally as responsible for what happened."

"I'm your superior and..."

"I thought you were my friend."

"Evelyn..." Ben sighed, "It could be perceived that I took advantage..."

"That's ridiculous," she cut him off angrily. "We touched, Ben, you didn't molest me. You didn't take advantage of anything. We're both adults and we both made a decision, subconsciously or otherwise..."

"It can't happen again."

"I know."

"Good, then we understand each other." His tone was harsh, harsher than he intended it to be, but there was no point in leaving any room for ambiguity. He was not Jack McCoy, no matter how much, in the moment, he wanted to be.

"Yeah, I guess we do." She opened the door and then turned back, her eyes hard. "You know what you said last night about being afraid of boats?" He nodded. "That wasn't true, was it? Your biggest fear is being perceived as anything less than your reputation. Boy Scout Ben Stone. It really suits you."

Chapter Text

June 1993

Three weeks later

"What if she recants on the stand?"

"Why would she?"

"I don't know, but all these messages from her lawyer worry me."

"Look, she knows she's getting two years out of this as opposed to fifteen. There's no way she doesn't go through with it."

"How well have you prepped her?"

Evelyn fought hard to hold her tongue at the veiled insinuation, "Well enough."

"I'm still worried," Ben said. "Without her, we can't make the case."

"Mary Fellowes is going to roll on all of them," Evelyn insisted. "She's been sitting in jail ever since arraignment and there's no way that she..."

"What do you think?" Ben interrupted her, directing his question towards Adam.

"I think if Mrs Burns says she's well prepped, then she's well prepped," the older man replied. "But no-one ever knows exactly what a witness is going to say on the stand until they say it. You have to be prepared for all eventualities."

Ben sighed, "We go to trial tomorrow and I don't want to see any of them walk away from this. Not with the amounts of money we're talking about."

"They won't," Evelyn said, through gritted teeth.

"Call Fellowes attorney," he instructed her. "Set up a meeting with her at Rikers. I want to talk to her myself before we do anything."

"So you don't trust my judgement?"

"Just do it."

"Fine," she replied tightly, "but you'll be remembering that I have some time off this afternoon to meet with Eddie and the lawyers?"

"I remember," he said. "You can ask Claire if she can come with me."

"I'll do that," she replied icily before stepping out of the office and closing the door quietly behind her.

For a moment there was silence.

"Whatever's happened to you pair in the last few weeks I wish you would fix it," Adam said.

"I don't know what you mean," Ben replied, leafing through the papers in his hand.

"The first week she was here you said she was a hard worker and a good attorney. You worked well together. Now I feel like I'm treading on eggshells every time I open my mouth around you."

"It's nothing."

"It's obviously something."

Ben sighed and took of his glasses. "We don't agree on certain things, that's all."

"Certain things like what?"

"Just...things..." he had no wish to elaborate any further. Ever since she had called him a boy scout, their relationship had nosedived dramatically. She was clearly angry at him for the way he had handled the situation and, if he was being completely honest, he was angry with her for what she had said, even though deep down he knew she wasn't far off the mark.

"Are you telling me you need another new assistant?"

"No," Ben said, "we're working it out."

"Good, because quite frankly I've enough on my plate right now without playing marriage counsellor for the two of you."

"It's nothing like that!" Ben exclaimed.

Adam looked at him, "It was a turn of phrase, that's all. There's no need to be sensitive about it."

"I'm not..." he stopped before he said more than he wanted to. "I'm sorry, you're right. I'll talk to her."

"Fine, just make sure you do. We don't want any perception of impropriety, especially not in an election year."

Ben shook his head at the irony, "God forbid."

XXXX

"Why are they keeping us waiting like this?" Evelyn demanded, pacing around the coffee table.

"It's a tactic to try and intimidate you," Veronica replied from where she was leafing through a magazine.

"Well, it's working. I feel like a nervous wreck."

"Well don't. I'm going to be doing the talking on your behalf. All you have to do is sit there and look as though nothing he or his lawyer says bothers you."

Evelyn sighed and sat down again. "I hate this."

"Unfortunately, it's part of the process. And I don't think..." She was prevented from saying more by the door to Howard Loomis' office opening and the man himself appearing.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. Please come in." He stepped back. "Evelyn, it's lovely to see you again, albeit under these strained circumstances."

"And you," she replied as graciously as she could as she crossed the threshold. Edward was already sitting at the large table in the centre of the room and when he caught her gaze, he shot her a smile that, to anyone else would have seemed conciliatory, but which she knew meant he was about to bury her.

"Well I see no point in beating around the bush," Howard said as they all took their seats. "Ms Sellers, I'm assuming you received the revised separation agreement that I returned to your office?"

"I did," Veronica replied, pulling papers out of her briefcase. "In fact, I was very surprised by the sheer number of revisions you had made, especially to what might be considered fairly standard clauses."

"Mr Burns only wants to retain what is rightfully his."

"And Mrs Burns only wants what she is rightfully entitled to."

The two lawyers began bickering over various different provisions contained within the agreement and Evelyn tried to look anywhere but at her husband. It proved difficult, however, when his penetrating gaze never left her. Every time she caught his eye she could see the old, familiar Eddie lurking beneath the surface. The one who had charmed her, wooed her and eventually broken her.

"This is all eminently fascinating," Edward said suddenly, "but can we just get to the point?"

"The point being?" Veronica enquired.

"How much does the bitch want?"

Evelyn opened her mouth to reply, but Veronica put her hand on her arm. "Perhaps we could refrain from pointless slurs, Mr Burns. It doesn't really get us anywhere."

"Perhaps not, but it gives me great satisfaction," Edward replied. "And I say again, how much does the bitch want?"

"Like my lawyer said, only what I'm entitled to," Evelyn said calmly.

"You're entitled to nothing," he replied.

"Mr Burns is willing to discuss division of certain property. The Manhattan apartment will be sold and the proceeds divided 70/30 in Mr Burns' favour. Mrs Burns may take 45% of the savings in the joint account which amounts to roughly $300,000 and Mr Burns will replace the vehicle she lost several weeks ago. Mrs Burns will renounce the shares she holds in my client's legal firm and any other claims to any other assets or property." Howard looked at them both. "Those are our terms."

Veronica smiled. "Mrs Burns will take 50% of the proceeds of the sale of the Manhattan apartment, considering it was purchased during the course of the marriage. She will also receive 50% of the money contained within the joint bank account, retain her shares in the company and take the house in Sag Harbor. Those are our terms, but we will gladly accept your clients offer to replace her vehicle."

"You're dreaming," Edward said, directing his comment towards Evelyn. "You're not getting anything like that."

"Then I'm afraid this meeting is over," Veronica got to her feet, gesturing to Evelyn to do the same. "Our terms are fair and equitable and if you can't accept them, then I guess we'll see you in court." Before either Edward or Howard could say anything else, she propelled Evelyn out of the office and back into the corridor. "We've given them something to think about."

"You saw Eddie's face. He'll never agree."

"Maybe not now, but something tells me he'll cave in before too long, even if it's just to avoid the publicity." Veronica checked her watch. "I have another appointment down the hall, but I'll give you a call tomorrow and we can discuss where we go from here, ok?"

"Ok."

"Good. Don't worry, you're doing the right thing."

Touching Evelyn's arm, she turned and headed off down the corridor leaving Evelyn with little choice but to head for the elevator. £300,000, 30% of the sale of the apartment and a car...some people might have said she would do well to accept the offer. Then she thought back over everything that had happened and knew that Veronica was right. She was due more.

The elevator arrived and the doors slid open. She stepped inside, pressed for the ground floor and stepped back, letting out a long breath as the doors began to close. Just before they did, however, an arm forced them open again and Edward appeared beside her in the empty car. She felt her heart leap into her throat as the doors closed again and he stepped towards her.

"You think you're really clever, don't you?" he sneered. "Coming in there with your bitch lawyer and demanding all that from me. Do you really think, for one minute, that I'm going to give you fifty percent?"

"It's standard," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm not asking for more..."

"More than you're entitled to," he mocked. "What you're entitled to, Evelyn, is nothing. You were nothing before you met me and you're nothing now and if you want to keep playing this game then I swear to God I will play it longer and harder."

"Fuck you," she said.

He cocked his head to one side, "What did you say?"

"I said, fuck you. You don't get to push me around anymore, Eddie, ok? Those days are gone. You can't..." she was prevented from saying anything more by his hand suddenly on her throat, squeezing her windpipe tightly, the way he used to do during sex sometimes because it excited him, not caring for one moment that it had terrified her. "Stop..." she tried to say, clawing at his hand with her own. "Eddie..."

"You don't ever talk to me like that," he said, his face inches from hers. "Or by God I'll show you. I'll fucking show you." As the elevator pinged to indicate it had reached its destination, he slammed her head back against the wall and released her, causing her to grab onto the rail for support and gasp for breath. The doors slid open and he straightened his suit jacket. "Good to see you again, darling. Until next time." Then he walked out into the foyer of the building as if nothing had happened.

XXXX

"I'm scared."

Ben sighed, "Of what?"

"What do you think?" Mary said. "They know people, scary people. You're going after Porter, Haywood and Lehrman but there's other people involved."

"We have no evidence to tie anyone else into this," Ben said. "As much as I wish I could..."

"So what's supposed to happen to me and my family, Mr Stone? I'll be in jail but they'll be on the outside."

"We can offer your family state witness protection. We can relocate them until such time as you've served your sentence and then reunite you all with fresh identities."

"And where exactly would you send us? Idaho? Wyoming? North Carolina?" Mary shook her head, "I want the deal your colleague offered. I want to testify but..."

Ben leaned forward across the table. "If you back out now then you'll be prosecuted along with the others and, if you're convicted, you'll spend the next fifteen years in jail. Is that what you want?"

Mary shook her head, "No."

"Then please, tell the truth on the stand tomorrow."

There was a long silence, then Mary nodded. "All right. All right, I'll do it."

"Thank you."

"You can't blame her for being afraid," her lawyer said as Mary was led away.

"She should have thought about that before getting involved," Ben replied, closing up his briefcase.

"Oh if we only all had your moral superiority." She shot him a look before following her client out of the room.

"Well at least she's still on board," Claire said when they were alone. "You still have a case."

"Yeah, no thanks to Evelyn," he muttered. "She said she had prepped her. Did she sound prepped to you?"

"She sounded scared and I guess I don't blame her. She's the one sticking her head above the parapet and waiting for it to be blown off. I'd probably feel the same if I were in her position."

"If she mentioned anything to Evelyn about needing protection and she didn't pass that on to me..."

"Why wouldn't she?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. Sometimes, I wonder if I know the woman at all."

XXXX

She had over an hour before her session with Dr Olivet, but Evelyn couldn't bear going back to her desk. Instead, she had the cab drop her a few streets away where she bought a hot dog and sat on a bench watching the world go by while she contemplated what had happened. Her head hurt and her throat ached, her fingers constantly straying to it, remembering the feel of his hand around it. There had been times in the past when she had fought back, given as good as she'd received, left him with a few bruises of his own. But more often than not, she had simply taken it. Let him make his point and then move on.

It often amazed her, when she thought back, how she could walk into the office in the morning with her head high and a smile on her face when mere hours earlier he had been screaming at her, clawing at her, pushing and pulling her. She would sit at her desk, converse with her colleagues, do her job...and no-one ever guessed. Or maybe they did and were too polite or afraid to mention it. Maybe they had all spoken about her at the water cooler and behind her back. Maybe all the years she thought she had been fooling everyone, she had only been fooling herself.

Tossing her garbage into a nearby trashcan, she made her way back to the office, resolving to simply go to the bathroom and touch up her makeup before heading over to Olivet's. There was no way she planned to venture upstairs, no way she wanted to run into Ben. The memory of the way he had spoken to her that morning, hell the way he had been with her for weeks, coupled with Eddie's attack only made her want to break down and scream with tears of frustration.

In the downstairs ladies room, she reapplied some lipstick and examined her neck. There was no denying the marks Eddie had left on her and she was just contemplating whether or not some foundation might help conceal them when the door opened and, to her dismay, Claire appeared.

"Hey," she greeted the other woman as breezily as she could, turning the taps on as a distraction. "How was Rikers?"

"Ultimately as expected," Claire replied. "Mary Fellowes still insists she wants the deal and that she'll tell the whole story on the stand tomorrow, but she's nervous about repercussions."

"What sort of repercussions?"

"She thinks her former co-defendants are planning to do something to her and her kids because of her testimony. She's worried about the possible connections to organised crime, especially if they're acquitted. Ben promised her and her family protection."

"Do you believe her?"

"I do."

"What about Ben?"

"I think he does too, now."

"Shame he didn't seem to hold that view when I tried to convince him earlier," Evelyn said, washing her hands. "He could have saved himself the trip."

"I think he just wanted to be sure but..."

"But what?"

"He's on the warpath. He wants to know if she said anything to you about needing protection when you were prepping her before."

"I see. Seems like everyone's out to get me today." She dried her hands and starting fixing her hair in the mirror, screaming at herself not to get upset again. But even as she looked at her own reflection she could see the whites of her eyes turning red.

"Are you ok?" Claire asked suddenly.

"Me? Yes I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you look a bit...upset."

"I'm fine," Evelyn replied, turning to face her and trying hard to compose herself. "It's just been a long day." Claire nodded, but Evelyn could see the other woman's eyes flicker downwards and knew she had seen the marks left by her husband's hand. "I'd better go, I'm late for an appointment. I'll see you tomorrow." Before Claire could say anything else, she left as quickly as she could, losing herself in the crowded foyer and hoping to God she could hold things together a little longer.

XXXX

"I talked to the police," Claire said, coming into Ben's office. "They're going to move Mary's family tonight."

"Good," he replied, relieved at the news. "One less thing to worry about. Hopefully tomorrow we can get this ball rolling. Thanks for all your help. I know I've been taking you away from your duties with Jack."

"That's ok, he doesn't mind. Though he did say you owed him a drink at the next bar dinner."

Ben smiled, "I bet he did."

Claire paused, "I ran into Evelyn downstairs."

His irritation returned. "Did you ask her about Mary wanting protection?"

"I mentioned it but...I don't know...is everything ok with her? Outside of this case I mean?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"It's just...when I spoke to her, she looked like she'd been crying."

Ben looked up. "Well she had a meeting with her husband and their lawyers this afternoon. Perhaps it didn't go so well."

Claire shook her head, "No, it was more than that. She had...injuries."

He stared at her. "What?"

"On her neck. It...looked like someone had grabbed her."

Concern suddenly flooded him and he was instantly transported back to that moment at her desk when he had witnessed Edward grab her arm. He had been brazen enough to do it there, feet away from other people, so why would a meeting at a lawyer's office be any different?

"Burns..." he said, getting to his feet.

"Her husband?"

"He's done it before, right here," he stormed to the door and threw it open, dismayed to find her desk across the corridor empty and yet chastising himself for thinking it wouldn't be. She had told him she was having a session with Olivet after the meeting. Turning back and grabbing his suit jacket from the coat stand, he threw it on.

"Where are you going?" Claire asked.

"I'm going to find her."

XXXX

"You're quiet this afternoon."

Evelyn looked up into Elizabeth Olivet's face. "Am I? I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologise," the other woman said. "This therapy is what you make of it. The sessions are yours to control. I was simply making an observation."

"I had a meeting today with Eddie and his lawyer."

"How was it?"

"As expected. We didn't agree on anything." Her hand went to her neck, the finger marks now hidden by a strategically placed silk scarf that she had found at the bottom of her bag. "I don't think we'll ever agree."

"How does that make you feel?" Elizabeth asked.

"Like I still have no control over my own life. I've left him and yet...I still can't do anything without him being a part of it. Sometimes I think I'll never be free of him. I worry that...even when it's all over with...he'll still be there."

"How do you mean?"

"That I'll always be looking over my shoulder...wondering if he's following me or..." Evelyn sighed and rubbed her eyes, "I don't know, maybe I'm just paranoid."

"Do you have anyone you can talk to about your feelings?"

"Besides you? No."

"What about your mother?"

"She likes to believe that she didn't notice anything wrong in my marriage. She likes to pretend that if she had known she would have done something. The truth is, she knew. Maybe not about all of it, but she knew I was unhappy and she didn't do anything to help me."

"Do you blame her for that?"

Evelyn paused, "I don't know. Maybe things will be better once I have my own place again. We're on top of each other so much now that it's a little stifling."

Elizabeth looked at her, "What about friends?"

"I don't have any?"

"None at all?"

"No."

"Have you ever considered joining some groups?"

"What sort of groups?" she asked.

"Friendship groups for women...support groups for battered wives..."

"I'm not a battered wife!" Evelyn snapped. "You don't...you can't say..." she paused and took a deep breath. "Eddie never laid a hand on me." The words sounded so hollow and, in the silence that followed, she knew Elizabeth didn't believe her. Why should anyone believe her? Ben didn't believe her, but then she had alluded to her husband's violence and he had perhaps witnessed some of it for himself, but she had never said the words. "He didn't," she repeated, more for herself than her therapist. "Ever."

Elizabeth sat back in her chair. "Evelyn...you know that this is a safe space. Nothing you say in here can be repeated."

Evelyn's eyes blurred with tears, "He never touched me," she whispered.

"Ok," Elizabeth reached out and touched her hand. "That's ok. You're doing fine."

"No," Evelyn shook her head. "No, I'm really not."

Chapter Text

When he got to her office, to Ben's dismay, Elizabeth was just locking up and there was no sign of Evelyn. Part of him hadn't expected to catch her, but the other part had been vehemently hoping she would be there.

"Ben?" Elizabeth greeted him with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping to catch Evelyn," he replied, panting slightly from having taken the stairs two at a time to the third floor. "I know she had a session with you this afternoon."

"You've just missed her. She left about ten minutes ago." Elizabeth peered at him, "Is everything all right?"

"How did she seem to you?"

"How do you mean?"

"Was she upset...or..."

"You know I can't discuss my patients with you, Ben," Elizabeth replied.

"Did she have any injuries? Did you see...?" he sighed, knowing that she was right and yet cursing the doctor-patient doctrine of confidentiality. "Claire told me that she had seen marks on her neck, like someone had grabbed her. She was meeting with her husband today and I don't know..."

"She was wearing a scarf," Elizabeth said thoughtfully. "I didn't see anything untoward but that's not to say there wasn't anything. Do you think he assaulted her?"

"Oh I'm almost sure of it," Ben replied shaking his head. "The man's an animal. Did she say whether or not she was going anywhere?"

"I..."

"Come on Liz, you can at least tell me that. You won't be breaching any confidences, surely?"

Elizabeth paused. "She said she was going home."

"Thank you," he said, "I appreciate it."

"Ben?" he turned back to face her. "Be careful. It's not breaching any confidence for me to say that Evelyn's damaged. You can see that for yourself, can't you?"

"Yes," he nodded, "Yes I can."

XXXX

She wasn't sure if it was her fourth or fifth drink, but it was certainly blurring the edges of her life. Everything was taking on a nice haze, the chatter in the bar sounding more like a pleasant hum to her ears, the music a low throbbing in the background. It wasn't the kind of place she would usually go, but it had been the nearest one to Olivet's office.

She had never been much of a drinker, not even in college. Eddie had hated seeing women drunk, claiming it was classless and tasteless and any time she had had more than he had deemed appropriate, he had berated her for it. So, for once, it felt nice to be in control of her own liquor intake.

There were two men further along the bar that kept looking over at her. At first she had wondered if they had previously been clients, then she wondered if they were lawyers before finally settling on the fact that they were simply men looking at a woman. Not that she was much to look at. Adjusting the scarf that still sat around her neck, she could tell even without looking that the marks would be bolder now, difficult to conceal, and her head still throbbed, even hours after it had struck the elevator wall.

She wished she wasn't on her own. She wished Ben was there. Not to join her in a drinking session, but to talk like they had that night at Fornelli's before an ill advised kiss had ruined everything. She missed his companionship both inside and outside of the office. A chill wind seemed to blow every time they were together now and it was almost more painful than anything she had endured with Eddie. Stupid, she said to herself, you barely know the man.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Evelyn looked up into the face of one of the men who had moved down the bar to sit next to her. "Oh..." she said, "no, I'm ok thanks."

"Good looking women like you shouldn't drink alone," he said.

It was one of the worst lines ever but she still laughed. "That's a matter of opinion."

"In what sense?"

"Maybe some women like to drink alone."

"I don't believe that," he said, moving closer to her. "I don't think you believe that either. I'm Matt. My friend John over there dared me to come and talk to you. He didn't think I'd have the guts."

"What, are you guys in college?" she laughed.

"Young at heart," he replied. "So, are you going to tell me your name?"

XXXX

"My daughter isn't here." Susan looked at him suspiciously. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Ben Stone, ma'am."

"Oh yes, from the DA's office," her face brightened, "Evelyn's talked about you a lot. Won't you come inside?" She stepped back and he followed her inside, along the hallway and into a bright living room. "I would have thought she would have been with you given you work together."

"Uh...no," he replied. "She wasn't in the office when I left and I hoped to catch her here."

"Well I'm afraid I haven't seen her since this morning and I'm slowly remembering that she tells me very little about her life. Would you like a drink?"

"Oh...no..."

"Just a small one? You can keep me company." Before waiting for an answer, Susan headed over to the drinks cabinet and poured two small glasses of scotch, one of which she handed to him.

"Thank you," Ben said, his attention caught by a painting hanging above the fireplace. It was a watercolour, depicting a young girl with flowing auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. "Is that Evelyn?"

"Yes," Susan said. "Her father commissioned it for her eighteenth birthday. It was always his favourite, even more so than any photograph he ever had of her. She liked it too for a while."

"For a while?"

"After she married Edward, she came over one day and said that she wanted him to take it down. She thought it made her look fat." She shook her head."It was nonsense of course, but no doubt the thought was put there by someone. Anyway, my husband refused to remove it and I love looking at it. It reminds me of a different time."

"It's beautiful."

"Is my daughter all right?"

Ben looked at her, "How do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid, Mr Stone. It seems very unusual for you to come all the way up here to see her when she works in your office. Surely whatever you need to discuss could have been done earlier or at least wait until tomorrow." She took a breath. "Has something happened to her?"

Ben paused, wanting to tell her his suspicions and yet mindful how Evelyn might react if she found out he had been talking to her mother. And how much did she even know? Did she know Evelyn had been meeting Edward? Did she know she was in therapy? Did she even know Edward was capable of being violent?

"I hope not," he said, as honestly as he felt he could. "I really hope not."

XXXX

"Oh come on! Stay for another one!"

Evelyn drained her glass and put it down on the table. "No, I really can't."

"Please Rose, don't go."

She laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, in particular the fact that she had given Matt and John a false name when the former had asked. It had been freeing in a way. Rose Wilson had none of the hang-ups, none of the problems, none of the concerns that Evelyn Burns had. She could concoct an entire background completely separate from the truth. She worked for an ad agency on Madison Avenue. She was single. She lived with her two cats. The lies had been endless and they had seemingly bought every one.

"Look, why don't we go on somewhere?" Matt suggested. "I know, let's go dancing!"

"Dancing?" she laughed. "On a Tuesday night?"

"Why not, it's New York!"

"I can't," she got unsteadily to her feet. "I have to work tomorrow, remember?" The thought of having to sit next to Ben in court at the start of the money-laundering trial with a thundering hangover was quickly working to sober her up.

"Come on..." Matt got to his feet and she suddenly realised how tall he was. "You can sit at your desk tomorrow and slowly die an alcohol induced death. Let's have fun tonight! I can tell just from the time we've spent together tonight that you're the kind of woman that likes to have fun."

"I really can't," she lifted her bag. "But thank you for the drinks. It was nice to meet you..." she made to move past him, but he grabbed her arm and, instantly, she could see Eddie's face.

"I don't think you understood me, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "I want to go dancing and I want you to come with me."

"And I want to go home and you to go to hell," Evelyn replied, pulling her arm out of his grip and then running as fast as she could for the bar door, bumping into numerous other patrons as she did so. Once outside, she took in a deep lungful of air, turned around and had to grab onto a nearby lamppost to stop herself from falling to the ground.

XXXX

"I should go," Ben said, getting to his feet over an hour later and handing Susan his empty glass. "It's getting late."

"Yes I suppose so," she said mournfully. "I must say, it's not often I have a nice young man come to my apartment of an evening to talk to me, even if you were looking for Evelyn. She certainly didn't tell me what a good conversationalist you are."

Ben felt himself blush slightly at the compliment. He had managed to steer Susan away from worrying about Evelyn by talking about anything and everything he could think of. The older woman had eventually relaxed and had been regaling him with stories of her youth in Santa Barbra. She hadn't mentioned either Evelyn or Edward again. "Well it's been a pleasure talking to you," he replied.

"Do you see much of your own mother?"

"Well, she's back in Michigan," he replied. "I try to get back when I can, but..." a sudden bang caused him to break off and Susan to jump as what sounded like a door slamming back on itself, caused the apartment to reverberate.

"Shit," a female voice came from the hallway.

"Evelyn?" Susan got to her feet and moved towards the front door. "What in God's name...?" She moved out of his earshot but he could hear low murmuring voices coming from near the front door and a few moments later, Evelyn appeared.

She looked terrible. Her eyes were sunken in her pale face, her jacket was buttoned crookedly and the scarf Elizabeth had referenced had slid half off her neck. As she stepped further into the room, he could see for himself the marks on her neck.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her speech slightly slurred.

"I came to see if you were all right," he replied.

"Why?" He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but they involuntarily slipped to her neck again and, aware of it, she clumsily tried to retie the scarf with trembling hands. "I went for a drink."

"You reek of alcohol!" Susan exclaimed, coming in behind her. "Where have you been?"

"Does it matter?" Evelyn asked, her gaze never leaving Ben's face. "I'm a grown woman after all."

"Well, when Ben turned up here saying he was looking for you, I got concerned..."

"Well I didn't ask him to come."

"Uh...Mrs Nicholls..." he stepped forward, "would you mind terribly if I spoke to Evelyn alone for a minute?"

Susan looked between them, and whilst she looked as though she was about to object, she caught herself and nodded. "I'll be in my room." She left silently and neither Ben nor Evelyn spoke until they had heard the soft shutting of a door at the end of the hallway.

"What happened?" Ben asked.

"I went for a few drinks at a bar," Evelyn replied, taking off her jacket and throwing it onto the couch. "I got talking to some guys..."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

"Look Ben, it's been a really long day..."

"Edward did that to you, didn't he?" he gestured to her neck.

She sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. "So what if he did."

"Why did he do it?"

"Because he doesn't like the fact that I have a claim on his money and he thinks attacking me in a elevator is the best way of dealing with it. How did you know anyway?" she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

Ben swallowed hard against the anger in his throat at the casual way she depicted it. "Claire told me."

She laughed mirthlessly. "Good old Claire."

"She was concerned about you."

"Really."

"I'm concerned about you," he said, sitting down next to her. "First in the office, now this...you can tell me to mind my own business all you want but..."

"You're not my friend," she said pointedly. "Why do you care?"

Ben paused. "I am your friend."

"That's not what you said a few weeks ago. You reminded me that you were my superior and you've been reminding me of that fact ever since. Giving me the cold shoulder, treating me like shit...well, here's a fact for you, Ben. I don't need you." She tried to look brazen, but her eyes filled with tears and she ducked her head away.

Her words cut him, but he knew they were true. "I can come with you to the precinct."

"No."

"You could talk to Briscoe and Logan..."

"No!" she raised her head again, the tears now streaming down her face. "I am not reporting this! I'm not reporting any of it! Don't you understand? It would just make things a hundred times worse!"

"What could be worse than this?" he asked. "You're separated and he is still hurting you!"

"I can't..." her body started to shake with sobs. "I can't..." Instinctively, he pulled her to him, holding her as she cried, gently stroking her hair like he used to do with the kids when they were small and had nightmares. She clung to him as if she were a child and he suddenly realised that in the last fifteen years, she had most likely had nobody to cling to. Eventually, she started to quieten and her body grew still but she made no move to pull away from him. "The guys...the ones that I met in the bar tonight."

"What about them?"

"I think they wanted to fuck me. I think they would have too, if I'd given them half a chance. One of them grabbed my arm...is that all I am? Something to be grabbed, fucked and then...discarded?"

He winced at her crudity. "No."

"Eddie never...he never wanted to...to hold me...afterwards...even if he'd been violent beforehand. He just...he just fucked me and that was that. A hole in a mattress. That's all I ever was." She drew back from him, her face inches from his own, her eyes dancing. Although he could hear his own voice in his head, could relive the conversation they had had three weeks earlier, he suddenly found his mouth moving against hers. He could taste the alcohol, could smell the smoke and yet he didn't care. He wasn't sure if he knew what the hell he was doing but he wanted her to know it didn't have to be like what she had had before.

"You wouldn't be just a hole in a mattress to me," he said softly when they broke apart.

"Ben..." she rested her forehead gently against his. "We can't...you said..."

"I know what I said."

"Then we should stop." She shuffled to the other side of the couch and wiped her eyes. "There's no point in starting something we can't finish."

He felt instantly cold from the loss of her touch. "Evelyn..."

"Please Ben," she got to her feet. "My personal life is so complicated right now and...I'm drunk and I don't know what the hell I'm saying or doing so you'd better go before one of does something we're going to regret."

Reluctantly, he stood up. "Will you at least consider going to the police?" She said nothing and he decided it would be wrong to push it further. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Bright and early," she replied. "Big trial starting after all." He stepped towards her, wanting to kiss her again, but she moved away from him and ducked her head again. "Goodnight Ben."

"Goodnight," he echoed. "Say goodbye to your mother for me."

"I will." She followed him to the door and as he made to open it, she put her hand on his arm. "Thank you."

"What for?" he asked, turning back towards her.

She shook her head sadly, "I'm not even sure I know."

Chapter Text

"Mrs Fellowes, please tell the court how long you've worked for the defendants' company."

"Over twenty-five years. I started in the mail room after leaving college."

"And what were your duties at that time?"

"Opening mail, filing, general office work."

"And as the years passed?"

"I was given more responsibility. I would type letter, take minutes at meetings...things like that. Around five years later I was sent on an accounting course so that I could move to the accounts department."

Evelyn fought to stay awake as Mary Fellowes recounted her early years at Lehrman & Company. It wasn't the most thrilling evidence in the world, not by a long shot, and the hangover that she had desperately tried to keep at bay with water, pills and coffee was slowly starting to seep back in.

"What sort of training were you given?" Ben asked, standing in front of the prosecution table, his hands in his pockets.

"After completing the course I was trained by the two women who were responsible for the accounts at that time," Mary replied. "When one left, I took her place and I my duties increased. I was partly responsible for payroll and for all of the company's invoicing."

"Did there come a time when you were solely in charge of that aspect of the business?"

"Yes, when the woman I worked with retired four years ago."

"And what happened then?" Ben turned slightly back to the table to lift some papers and briefly caught Evelyn's eye.

"I started to notice that there were irregularities."

"What kind of irregularities?"

"With the invoicing in particular," Mary said, her confidence in her testimony growing with each answer. "For years, most of the company's biggest clients had regular invoicing that went out every month. But I started to notice that two of them were all over the place. It could be a small amount one month, then a larger amount another month and sometimes nothing at all, even though I knew we had done work for them."

"Did you raise this with anyone in senior management?"

"Yes, I spoke to Mr Porter. He was my immediate superior."

Evelyn glanced across the room towards the defence table. She couldn't see Potter, Haywood or Lehrman, obscured as they were by each other and their attorneys, but she could feel the tension in the room.

"And what did he say?" Ben asked.

"He agreed that it was odd and told me that he would speak with Mr Haywood and Mr Lehrman. A few days later, he told me that they had said..."

"Objection..." Patrick Lehrman's attorney, Arthur Gold, got to his feet. "What my client and Mr Haywood may have said to Mr Porter is hearsay."

"Statement against penal interest, Your Honour," Ben replied.

"Overruled," Judge Steiner replied. "The witness may continue."

"Thank you. Mrs Fellowes?"

"He said that they had said the invoicing was correct and that I should continue to send out requests for payment in the amounts passed down to me."

"Did you ever speak to Mr Haywood or Mr Lehrman personally at that time regarding the invoicing?"

"Not at that time, no."

"Which two companies had the irregular invoices?"

"Bianchi & Co and O'Reilly Limited."

"And what types of businesses are those?"

"O'Reilly Limited is a construction company and Bianchi & Co owns a chain of restaurants."

"Did you ever meet either the owners or employees from either of these companies?"

"No."

"Do you know who owns O'Reilly Limited?"

Mary paused for a brief moment, her eyes flickering towards her former bosses. "Robert O'Reilly."

"And Bianchi& Co?"

"Umm...I don't know exactly who owns it," Mary said, looking down. "Some of the invoices were made out to Vittorio Amuso and then, most recently, Joseph DeFede."

There was a slight ripple around the courtroom as Mary named the two most recent bosses of the Lucchese crime family.

"Your Honour, this testimony is irrelevant to our clients," Arthur Gold got to his feet again. "Who owns the companies is question doesn't matter. Our clients carried out legitimate work for these companies and they were billed accordingly."

"The people's case is based on the fact that the defendants laundered money for both of these companies over a long number of years," Ben replied. "The fact that at least one of them is a vehicle for the Lucchese family is relevant."

"Then I'm sure that there would be federal prosecutors delighted to hear it," Gold said, "but this is state money laundering trial and so far all we've heard about is some strange invoicing and some Italian and Irish names."

"I'm sure Mr Stone intends to get to the crux of the matter at some point," Judge Steiner said.

"I do, your Honour."

"Then your objection Mr Gold, if that's what it was, is overruled."

For the next half hour, Ben took Mary deeper into the intricacies of the invoicing and the irregularities that she had continued to notice over the years, culminating in her testimony regarding a conversation she had had with Patrick Lehrman the previous year."

"And what did he say?" Ben asked.

"He said that I had a good job and it would be shame for me to lose it, especially given the fact that I was a single mother."

"He threatened you?"

"Objection," Gold stood again. "The witness cannot know what was in my client's mind when she spoke to him."

"Then I'll rephrase the question. Did you feel threatened by Mr Lehrman?"

"Yes," Mary replied. "I did."

"Thank you, no further questions." Ben made his way back to the prosecution table. "Your witness."

Gold got to his feet. "Mrs Fellowes...you felt that something was wrong with this invoicing almost four years ago, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Yet you did nothing about it?"

"I spoke to Mr Porter..."

"I mean, out with the company. You didn't contact the financial authorities or the police, did you?"

"No."

"And over the course of those four years in particular, did your salary increase?"

Mary shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "Yes."

"To what extent?"

"Objection, relevance?" Ben got to his feet.

"Part of this witnesses position is that she went along with what was going on for four years," Gold said, "surely it's not unreasonable to think she might have been compensated for that?"

"Overruled, the witness will answer."

"It increased, yes."

"By how much?"

"I'm not..."

"Five thousand? Ten thousand?"

"I don't remember."

"Isn't it true that your salary four years ago was $35000 a year and, last year, had jumped to $62000? That's a heck of an increase for a glorified bookkeeper."

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn. Mrs Fellowes, isn't it the case that you entered into a deal with the District Attorney for your testimony today?" Gold asked.

"Yes," Mary replied.

"And that you were promised two years in prison instead of possibly fifteen?"

"Yes."

"I see," Gold stepped back towards the defence table. "How very convenient."

XXXX

"The forensic accountant is up after lunch," Ben said as court was recessed.

"Oh great," Evelyn said. "The jury are going to be asleep before he's even sworn in. Can't we juggle the list a bit? Put on someone a little more...I don't know..."

"Sexy?" he turned to look at her.

She felt her cheeks colour slightly. "Interesting."

"We need to keep the momentum going. Connect the invoicing and the payments and he's the only one who can do it." Ben closed his briefcase. "Let's get some lunch across the street, go over the paperwork again and double check we haven't missed anything."

"Ok," she agreed, "but I need to run to the ladies first. I'll meet you over there?"

"Fine."

The court rotunda was busy but fortunately there was no line at the ladies and she was able to get straight into a cubicle where she could force down another dose of painkillers and sit for a moment, hoping to be able to make it to the end of the day. It had been a strange morning. When she had arrived at the office, Celia had told her that Ben was already at the courthouse and when she had finally met up with him, he had been completely focused on the case ahead. There had been no mention, by either of them, of the previous evening and while part of her couldn't help but think it might be best never to be mentioned again, another part of her felt her breath catch in her throat every time she recounted what had happened.

Fixing her hair and reapplying her lipstick, she looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head at the bags under her eyes. Another silk scarf hid the evidence of what had happened with Edward and fortunately, no-one had mentioned it. Her stomach growled, so she lifted her bag and made her way back out into the rotunda towards the front door, when the sound of a familiar voice calling her name caused her to stop in her tracks.

Turning around to face him, she immediately felt anxiety rise within her and even though they were surrounded by other people, she still felt trapped.

"I'm sorry, I know you're busy."

His conciliatory tone threw her momentarily. "What do you want, Eddie?"

"We need to talk," he said, walking towards her.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"It's important."

"Leave me alone," she turned and started walking away, only for him to hurry to catch up and fall into step beside her.

"I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important!" he insisted.

Evelyn waited for him to grab her, but he didn't, so she kept walking. "If it's that important, tell your lawyer and he can call my lawyer. I think that's the safest way all round, don't you?"

"It's about the money," he said, keeping pace with her.

"What money?"

"The money you want in the divorce."

"The money I'm entitled to, you mean," she said, as the emerged out into the afternoon sunshine.

"Look, please...can we just have a normal conversation..."

"Normal?" she stopped and rounded on him. "What's normal for you, Eddie? There's plenty of people around, so I'm guessing you won't want to choke me this time."

He looked away, "I'm sorry about that."

The apology was so unexpected, so out of the blue, that for a moment she thought she had misheard. "What?"

"I said, I'm sorry." He looked at her earnestly. "I really am."

"Too little too late," she said, once she had recovered. "Now, I'm late."

"I'll meet you wherever you want," he continued. "I could come to your mother's apartment, or you could come to the office or..."

"No and no."

"Anywhere, please!" he stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop walking. "It's...it's really important."

Evelyn paused, weighing everything up. He had never been like this before. Never really been sorry. Never seemed so...concerned? Would it hurt to at least hear what he had to say, if it could be said somewhere that she felt safe? "Fine," she agreed. "I know a place."

XXXX

"I'd almost given up hope," Ben said, as she came into the cafe and sat down opposite him.

"Sorry," she said, putting her bag on the floor. "I got talking to someone." She hoped he wouldn't ask her who and thankfully he didn't. Motioning to the papers spread out on the table in front of him, she steered the conversation back to the trial. "Does it look as if everything's in order?"

"As long as Willard can properly convey to the jury the movement of the money from the two companies to Lehrman and then on into the shell companies then I don't see how they won't be able to connect the dots, at least in respect of Porter and Haywood."

"Do you think any of the defendants are going to take the stand?"

"Ben! What a surprise to find you eating lunch here!" Gold appeared at the side of the table. "And Mrs Burns too, how cosy."

"You expected me to sit at a separate table?" Evelyn said, before she could hold her tongue.

"No, but given I saw you talking to your husband back at the court a few minutes ago, I assumed you'd be lunching with him," Gold replied innocently.

She glanced over and caught Ben's eye, his expression unreadable. "And yet, here I am," she said as brightly as she could. "And what can we do for you, Mr Gold?"

"You're not going to convict my client in the first degree," Gold directed his reply towards Ben, effectively cutting her out of the conversation. "Offer him the same deal you gave the Fellowes woman and he'll testify against Porter and Haywood."

"Uh...your client owns the company," Ben replied. "If anyone's culpable here, it's him. I'd be more likely to offer deals to the other two to roll on him."

"Well that's never going to happen. And how badly are you wanting to push this mob angle?"

Ben paused, "What do you mean?"

"Well it's all very fascinating for you to suggest in court that the Lucchese family are somehow connected to this, but you haven't got any evidence to support it?"

"So what are you suggesting?"

Gold paused. "My client might be willing to name names."

Ben sat up. "He's willing to name names in the Lucchese family?"

"Maybe. If he were to get the right deal. Why not think about it over your Cobb salad," Gold looked distastefully at the plate on the table. "And let me know."

"What do you think?" Evelyn asked, once Gold was out of earshot.

Ben shook his head, "Why would Lehrman be prepared to get involved in giving evidence against one of the biggest crime families in New York, all to get out of a money laundering indictment?"

"Because he knows he's looking at a long time in jail if he's convicted?"

"But Gold's right, the evidence against his client is the weakest out of all of it. I'm not convinced that he won't be able to charm the jury into thinking he didn't know anything about it."

"Even with Mary's testimony that he threatened her job?"

"He could explain that away in relation to anything. Poor performance..."

"Against a background of giving her more than a fifty percent wage rise?"

"I think we should ask for an adjournment to consider our position," he said decisively. "Twenty-four hours. See if Gold comes up with the goods."

"Ok," she said. "If you think it's the right way to go."

Ben paused. "Edward was at court?"

She ducked her head, "He approached me in the rotunda."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No," she looked up, touched by the concern in his tone. "No, he just wanted to talk."

"I'll bet he did."

"I...agreed to meet him later tonight...just to talk." Ben looked at her as though she had lost her mind. "I know you probably think it's a bad idea..."

"Congratulations, you win the award for understatement of the century! I don't understand why you would even give him the time of day after what he's done to you!"

"Because he looked..."

"Looked what?"

"He looked different," she said. "It sounds ridiculous, but he looked genuinely contrite. He apologised for what happened and he's never done that before...he looked worried."

"Worried that you're going to come to your senses and report him."

"Please..." somewhat instinctively, she reached across and placed her hand over his. "I know you're concerned, but I can handle this. He's not going to be able to hurt me again. I've learned that lesson now, once and for all." He looked down at her hand. "Sorry," she pulled back, feeling her cheeks burn again. "So, what do you need me to do?"

XXXX

"Well, this is novel," Edward said as he looked around the interrogation room. "Do you intend having our conversation witnessed by the two cops who manhandled me in here?"

"No," Evelyn replied from where she was seated at one side of the table. "And they didn't manhandle you. But at least I know they're only a scream away." He had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed as he sat down opposite her. "So?"

He unbuttoned his jacket and glanced behind him at the two-way mirror. "Are you sure they're not watching?"

"Trust me, they have better things to do." She thought back to the silence at the other end of the phone when she had called the 2-7 and asked Lennie if it would be ok for her to use one of their interrogation rooms to talk to Eddie. Without going into too much detail, she had given him an outline of her reasons and, after checking with Van Buren, had agreed that it would be ok. Looking across at her husband, she told herself that even he wouldn't be dumb enough to attack her in a police station. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

He looked uncomfortable. "It's about the money."

"What about it?"

"It's not that I don't want to give you it..."

"Really? You could have fooled me."

"Are you going to let me talk?" She nodded. "It's not that I don't want to give you it...it's that I can't."

She paused. "I don't understand."

"It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"Everything." He met her gaze. "It's all gone...or at least it will be."

Evelyn shook her head, "You're not making any sense..."

"The apartment is mortgaged to the hilt," he said. "The bank are about to foreclose on the house in Sag Harbor, the savings are...gone and as for the firm..." he rubbed his hand over his eyes. "That's pretty much gone too."

She tried to process what he was saying. It was a lie, it had to be. Another passive-aggressive way of getting at her when violence failed. He was just saying it to try and stop her claiming what was rightfully hers and it was certainly an interesting approach. "Very funny. You're not the first man to try and hide assets."

"It's not a joke, Evelyn!" Edward got to his feet and started pacing. "I'm...I'm in a lot of trouble."

"What sort of trouble?"

"Serious trouble!" He put his head in his hands and stood there for a long moment. "Two years ago...I did a favour for someone."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that...since then I've gotten myself mixed up in..." he shook his head. "God, it doesn't even seem real."

"Eddie..." she got to her feet and moved towards him, the purpose of what she knew not what. It certainly wasn't to physically comfort him as the very thought made her flesh crawl.

"They've taken everything. They have holds over what they haven't taken..." he looked as if he was about to burst into tears. "I haven't anything to give you and that's the God's honest truth."

"Is it drugs...gambling?" her mind raced over the possibilities. Looking back over their marriage he had never been secretive with money, just preferred to hold onto it himself. He had never frequented OTB as far as she knew, there had never been anyone suspicious in their lives...sometimes, when he had been particularly enraged at something she had wondered if he might have been using cocaine but there had never been any evidence to support such a speculation...

"No!" he looked at her indignantly. "You know me, Evelyn, you know that I have never..."

"Then help me to understand," she said. "If it's not drugs or gambling then what is it?"

He paused and just looked at her, his expression so broken that for the first time in a long time, she actually felt pity for him. "I made an investment in a restaurant chain."

Evelyn frowned, "A restaurant chain?"

Edward nodded. "It seemed like a good deal at the time and, like I said, it came about as the result of a favour I did for someone..."

A cold feeling started to seep through her body, despite the humidity in the room. A niggle at the back of her mind...something that had been said earlier that day in a completely different context. "Who owns the chain?" she asked, her voice strained.

"I don't really know. I dealt with a man named DeFede on behalf of the owners, Bianchi & Co," he replied. "It all seemed perfectly plausible but..." he swallowed hard. "You'll have heard of..."

"The Lucchese family."

Chapter Text

"So, what does Gold want?"

"He wants the best deal he can get for his client."

Adam sighed the way he always did when he had asked a perfectly legitimate question and Ben had sidestepped it. "And what does that entail?"

"He says that Patrick Lehrman is prepared to testify against Porter and Haywood regarding the money laundering at the company. In return, he wants dealt down to fourth degree and a maximum of two years in jail."

"The same deal you gave Mary Fellowes."

Ben nodded, "Exactly. In addition to that, Gold is alleging that he can name names in the Lucchese family linked to one of the companies involved."

"When he says 'name names' what does he actually mean?"

"I'm not sure," Ben sat down on the couch, "Gold was very circumspect about it."

"So you could make the deal and get nothing out of it." Adam shook his head. "Judge Steiner granted you an adjournment?"

"Only twenty-four hours. We either reach some kind of deal or we resume the trial lunchtime tomorrow."

"What does your gut say?"

Ben paused. What did his gut say? His gut said, nail everyone you can, the higher up the food chain, the better. If all rumours were true, the grip the Lucchese family had on the city was weakening. There had been a number of recent high profile arrests and the federal authorities were making good inroads into dismantling the hierarchy of fear that had been built over many years. The trailblazing part of him wanted a piece of that action. But the nervous part of him couldn't help but think back to a similar situation that had arisen three years earlier involving Frank Masucci and how that had all gone so terribly wrong.

"Sit down with Gold," Adam said.

"We've got a meeting arranged first thing tomorrow."

"If you don't like what you hear, carry on. No-one in this office is going to give you a hard time for not bringing the mob into this trial." He paused. "Where's your partner in crime? What does she think about all this?"

Ben's mind instantly flew to Evelyn and her meeting with Edward. She hadn't told him where it was going to be, saying only as she had at the cafe that he wouldn't be able to hurt her. "I'm not sure. She went to meet with her husband."

"You said she might need help with him but you never specified what kind of help."

Ben shook his head, "Sometimes I think I know exactly what kind of help she needs and other times..."

"You can't make her choices for her."

"No," he sighed, "unfortunately I can't."

XXXX

"Tell me everything."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not about to go into chapter and verse about this in a police precinct! The room could be bugged for all we know."

Evelyn sighed, "Eddie...if what you're saying is right..."

"If?"

"Well what do you expect me to say?"

Edward shook his head, "I don't know." He sat down heavily and rubbed his face again. "Two years ago I represented a guy for a homicide down by the river. Do you remember? Guy shot in the face?"

She thought back, "Vaguely."

"I got him acquitted, quite legitimately I might add, the state had no case...anyway...he was the nephew of a guy named Amuso and, after the trial was over, I got a call from him thanking me for everything I did. I said it was no problem, my fee had been paid and I thought that was the end of it. Two weeks later, a sum of money appeared in the business account."

"How much money?"

"Fifty thousand. When I checked, I saw it had come from the same account that had paid my fee, so I contacted the client and he told me to talk to his uncle. When I did, Amuso told me it was a 'bonus' for a job well done. I told him that wasn't necessary and that I would transfer it back but he refused."

"You should have returned it anyway."

"I know that now, but at the time the way he spoke to me...he gave me the impression he'd be very offended if I didn't take it."

"So you kept it," she shook her head.

"Yeah, I did," he replied acerbically, "and it paid for the renovation of the house in Sag Harbor, which you loved, so don't look at me like that. A few months went by and I got a call from Amuso. He told me that his company was going to be opening a string of restaurants in the city and they were looking for investors. He said if I still felt bad about the fifty thousand then I could invest and maybe I'd feel better about it. So I did."

Evelyn got to her feet, "How much?"

"Three hundred thousand."

"Oh my God..."

"I didn't want it to look like it came from the firm, so I used some of the money in our savings account to fund it. At first, things were fine but then he kept calling saying that they needed more money."

"And you just handed it over?!" she exclaimed. "How big of an idiot are you?!"

"I'm not an idiot!" he shouted, getting to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides. "Don't you fucking dare call me that! I was doing it for us...for our future..."

"Don't make me laugh, Eddie, you were doing it for yourself!"

"You know something? I should have known you would be like this," he said. "Judgemental...bitchy...I don't know why the hell I'm bothering to tell you any of this anyway!"

"Because you can't give me the money I'm due in our divorce because, somehow, you've lost it all to the mob!"

"Screw you!" he moved towards her. "I'll handle this on my own!"

"And how exactly do you propose to do that, Eddie?" She stepped away from him. "Are we going to have fake meetings with our lawyers? Consider fake separation agreements? Come to a settlement on fake terms in relation to money that doesn't exist?!"

"I'll fix it!"

"How? What are you going to do?"

"I'll think of something!"

Fear coursed through her. If all of this was true, if he really was involved with these people, things could take a very dangerous turn. "You could get hurt."

"As if you'd give a damn."

"I would, of course I would."

"Then you shouldn't have left me, should you?"

Evelyn swallowed hard, "You didn't leave me any choice. I should have left you years ago, when you first raised your hand to me. I shouldn't have left it as long as I did. I shouldn't have let it get to the point where you killed..."

"Shut up!"

"No I won't shut up! Maybe it's about time you faced up to everything you've done, Eddie and I don't just mean this mob thing! Maybe you should take responsibility for what you've done to me...how you've treated me! What kind of man hits his wife the way you hit me? What kind of man controls his wife to the point where she has nothing and nobody the way you controlled me? What kind of man pushes his pregnant wife...?" Before she could finish her sentence, he was across the room, grabbing her and pushing her back against the far wall, his face red and contorted in anger.

The door of the room flew open and the next moment, he was being pulled away from her by Mike, who locked his arms behind his back and pushed him face down on the table. "You fucking piece of shit! Edward Burns, you're under arrest for assaulting Evelyn Burns. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..."

"Get off me!" Edward spat.

"If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you at no charge!" Mike pulled him up to his feet. "Are you ok? Evelyn! Are you ok?"

She nodded mutely as her husband was dragged out of the room, cursing and fighting all the way. She had been wrong. He could still hurt her. He always would.

XXXX

"He's bluffing."

"No Ben, I don't think he is. You didn't see him. I've never seen Eddie so worried about anything before."

After declining a cup of coffee, Evelyn had spent the next twenty minutes trying to explain to Mike and Lennie that she didn't want to press charges. It was practically nothing. Pushing her up against a wall? It was minor league compared to what he had put her through in the past. Finally, they had agreed to leave him in a cell until he calmed down then release him, but they made it clear to her that they were unimpressed by her attitude. Overcome by a desperate need to be somewhere she knew she would feel some sense of safety and security, she had made her way back to the office. Fortunately, Ben had still been there and it had taken every restraint she had not to throw herself into his arms.

"Well, what exactly did he say?" She recounted what Eddie had told her, up until he had lost his temper. "So, what are you concerned about? Losing out on the money or Edward potentially being whacked in a mob hit? I know which one would bother me more."

She stared at him, "That's low, even for you."

"I'm sorry..." he stood up and moved towards her. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. But he's gotten himself into this mess and it shouldn't be your problem."

"Ben...I'm his wife. By virtue of that fact alone it could be inferred that I'm in bed with the mob too!"

"Well that's nonsense for a start."

"He used money from our joint savings account to invest in this restaurant chain," she said. "I didn't get a chance to ask about our other assets but..."

"But didn't you say before that all of the property you owned was in his name?"

"Yes, the apartment here and the house in Sag Harbor."

"And what about the firm?"

"At the moment I'm still a partner and shareholder, but I know that he wanted me to relinquish both of those in the divorce."

"So what are you really afraid of?"

Evelyn paused. "Lots of things. Being left penniless for a start. Having my husband whacked. Being whacked myself..."

Ben put his hands on her shoulders, "Do you honestly think that I would let that happen to you?" She shivered slightly under his touch, so different from the one she had experienced mere hours earlier. "Do you?"

"No..." she moved away from him and sat down. "What do you think I should do?"

"Nothing, at least for now. Although..."

"Although what?"

"If Edward is involved with the Luccheses'...it might help bolster a case against them, especially if Patrick Lehrman wants to talk."

Evelyn laughed, "You don't honestly think for one minute that Eddie's going to repeat any of what he told me in an official capacity, do you? He'd never testify."

"He might not have a choice."

"Ben..." she got to her feet again, "I've just told you all this in confidence...as a friend...not as an ADA. If I thought you were going to use this..."

"It's all right," he reassured her, "just thinking aloud, I guess. How did you leave things with him?"

She paused, "Let's just say we're still not on very good terms."

XXXX

"Before we start, Ben, I'm afraid I have to object to her being here."

It was the following morning and Arthur Gold and Patrick Lehrman had arrived for their meeting.

Gold sat his briefcase down on the table and looked at Evelyn. "It's nothing personal, my dear, but I'm afraid that in light of what my client has told me..."

"Meaning what?" Ben asked, irked already.

"I'm given to understand that Mrs Burns' husband is an investor in property owned by some of the people we're going to be discussing today and therefore..."

"Therefore nothing." Ben glanced at Evelyn and saw by her expression that she was taken off guard by the comments, clearly wondering, as was he, how the information had come to light.

"And therefore, I think it highly inappropriate that she be present for this meeting."

"Mr Gold," Evelyn gave him her best smile, "I'm sure you know that my husband and I are separated..."

"Legally or simply physically?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters. Mr Lehrman says nothing in here that could potentially filter back to anyone in the family."

"Arthur, even if Mrs Burns and her husband were still happily married, nothing you or your client said in this office would get back to anyone," Ben said. "Mrs Burns is my assistant and a damn good ADA who knows the rules of ethics backwards."

"Of that I have no doubt," Gold said, "but she's not appropriate for this case."

"Arthur, we only have a few hours..."

"Then you get nothing. Come on Patrick, let's go."

"It's fine," Evelyn got to her feet. "My husband seems to prove to be a thorn in my side in many cases but far be it from me to stand in the way of the wheels of justice. I'll leave you to it." She left, closing the door behind her.

"So?" Ben asked. "What does your client want to say?"

"First of all, I want your assurance that you'll stick to the deal."

"I haven't made him an offer yet."

"So make it."

"It depends on what he has to say."

"I had no knowledge of the money laundering," Patrick spoke up. "At least, not at the beginning. I left most of that side of the business to Matthew and Daniel."

"You mean, the invoicing?" Patrick nodded. "You didn't oversee it at all?"

"I'm a busy man, Mr Stone. If I don't delegate, nothing would ever get done. I only found out last year when a man named Joe DeSalvo approached me at a benefit. He thanked me for my contributions to his cousin's company."

"Bianchi & Co?"

"Yes. I...pretended I knew what he was talking about and the first chance I had, I confronted the others. When they confirmed what was happening and who was involved, I was shocked."

"Uh...Mr Lehrman, this is your company," Ben said. "You're the CEO. You had it within your power to stop this."

"By doing what? Firing them both? I need Matthew and Daniel to keep the company going. Besides, if I'd let them go who knows what might have happened."

"You mean you were worried about your safety?"

Patrick nodded. "I started receiving phone calls from DeSalvo, asking for more money to be invested. When I told him that we were already heavily committed, he became threatening."

"In what sense?"

"He...mentioned my children, where they went to school, that sort of thing. He never came right out and threatened them, but I knew what he meant."

"Did anyone else witness these calls?"

"No, but I started recording them. I have the tapes in my desk at the office."

Ben shook his head, "They'd likely be held as inadmissible."

"Not if you get the right judge," Gold said.

"And you're willing to repeat all this on the stand?"

"If you can guarantee my family protection, then yes."

"Do we have a deal?" Gold asked.

"It could take months to build a case against anyone in the family," Ben said. "Money-laundering, menacing, extortion..."

"You know I'm not the only one, right?" Patrick said. "I'm not the only one they're doing this to. I know of other companies, private individuals, lawyers..."

"Lawyers?" Ben looked at Gold. "Is that why you didn't want Mrs Burns in this meeting?"

"Her husband may have been targeted the same way." Gold got to his feet. "You deal my client down to fourth degree and he testifies this afternoon against the others. He doesn't admit to any knowledge of or involvement with the Luccheses' during this trial. Once you have enough for an indictment, he testifies against whoever you can prosecute providing, obviously, that his testimony would be relevant. He gets protection for himself and his family. Failing that, he gets a walk from the jury."

"You can't guarantee that," Ben reminded him.

"I think I can. I looked into their eyes, Ben. They're not going to convict him. Save yourself the egg and at least walk away with something."

XXXX

"Gold's smart," Adam said. "You make the deal, Lerhman gets off lightly and then, down the road, you find you can't make a case against anyone in the family and he never testifies."

"Oh he'll testify," Ben said. "It might not be this year or next year, but one day there will be indictments and when there are, I'll be knocking on his door with a subpoena if I have to."

"I hear he threw you out of the room."

Evelyn nodded, "I suppose I can see his point, however insulted I should be at his insinuation of my inability to keep legal confidence."

"You think your husband was targeted the same way?"

She paused. When Ben had told her that Edward had been referred to, somewhat indirectly, in the meeting, she had had to accept that keeping the knowledge of his involvement secret was going to be impossible. "Who knows? Eddie's got a big ego. He would have thought about the opportunity it might bring for him before he thought about the consequences. The problem is...I can't see him ever agreeing to testify."

"Not even if you talked to him?"

"Especially not if I talked to him."

"So," Adam looked at Ben again, "What are you going to do?"

"Make the deal. It's all I can do if I ever want to have any chance of prosecuting anyone in the family."

"Fine, it's your decision. I trust your judgment." He lifted a large, embossed envelope. " And in the midst of all this, the invitation of the year arrived on my desk today."

"Invitation for what?"

"The annual mayoral dinner dance."

"Oh no," Ben groaned, "pass."

"No, you do not get to pass Go, nor collect two hundred dollars," Adam replied. "It's a three line whip, as they say."

"It's an evening I can do without."

"And miss out on the chance to watch the mayor be congratulated on everything he's achieved in his last year in office? If I have to go, you have to go. And that includes you, Mrs Burns."

Evelyn looked up in surprise. "I've been invited?"

"It's an office invitation," Ben explained. "Everyone at ADA level or above. A chance for back-slapping and deal making...the worst kind of evening."

"Is there a dress code?"

"Black tie," Adam said. "So you'd better look out your best party dress and dancing shoes for August 15th."

Chapter Text

July 1993

Four weeks later

"I'm telling you, I didn't kill my father."

Todd Masters glared out from beneath too shaggy bangs that should have been cut long ago. His pimpled face was twisted with anger and he kept picking at the skin around his fingernails. He was an angry young man, of that there was no doubt. There had finally been enough evidence, in Ben's opinion, to charge him with the murder of his father Peter, but if he had been hoping for any kind of sweet deal, his hope was forlorn.

"Son, we have your prints on the gun, your alibi is shaky, you were due to inherit from a trust fund..."

"That he can't touch for another six years," his lawyer, Shambala Green pointed out. "There's no motive here."

"We know that your father was violent towards you and your mother," Ben continued, ignoring her. "We know that you knew where the gun was and how to use it. Whilst I can sympathise with what you went through at your father's hands, it won't take a jury much of a leap..."

"If you call a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon 'not much of a leap,'" Shambala interrupted. "Todd is a good student and his mother will testify..."

Ben looked at her for the first time. "His mother is protecting him and we both know it."

"My mother is not protecting me!" Todd got to his feet, his fists balled at his sides. "This is all crap!"

"Todd..."

"No! I'm not listening to this anymore! You do what you want." He turned and threw open the door to Ben's office, letting it crash back against itself, and stormed off down the hallway.

"Nicely handled," Shambala said, leaning slightly across the table towards Ben. "You have kids, Ben, don't you know how to talk to them?"

"Your client's sinking here and you know it," Ben said. "His mother is not going to be able to hold up on the stand under cross examination..."

"You give yourself too much credit."

"...and you're going to drag him and her through a needless trial..."

"Needless? He's innocent, Ben, I'd hardly call the pursuit of the truth needless."

Ben sighed and leaned towards her. "My offer still stands. Manslaughter one, he does five years."

"Criminally negligent homicide and he's sentenced as a youthful offender."

"He's nineteen, not nine! He has to be sentenced as an adult!"

"Fine," Shambala lifted her briefcase and shot him a look, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow in court then."

"Yeah, I guess you will."

It was only after the door had closed behind her that Evelyn opened her mouth. "I would have said something but I didn't want to spoil it."

"Spoil what?"

"That little dance between you and Miss Green. It was...spellbinding."

He looked over at her. "If I thought you were being serious I'd be worried."

"There's no law against flirting with defence attorneys. It was the only way I could ever get decent pleas out of Frank Lazar. I'm joking," she added as he raised his eyebrows at her, "but if you ask me, Miss Green has a little thing for you."

"That's ridiculous," he said, moving back around the desk to sit in his chair.

"Don't tell me you've never considered it?" Evelyn teased.

"No I haven't and if you repeat that speculation to anyone..."

"Relax, I'm not going to say anything. We wouldn't want everyone's perception of you to be tainted now, would we?" She sat down in the chair recently vacated by Shambala and crossed her legs offering him, in his opinion, a very pleasant view. "In any event...I do happen to agree with her."

Ben frowned, his mind pulled back to the matter at hand. "Criminally negligent homicide? For putting three bullets in his father?"

"No, but maybe manslaughter two."

"Evelyn..." he shook his head. "That's nonsense and you know it. He had means, he had motive..."

"A motive that the jury might be sympathetic to," she argued. "He's a nineteen year old kid with his whole life still in front of him. His father was a vicious bully..."

"Are you and Miss Green in league together or something?" Ben interrupted. "Manslaughter one is as low as I can go and, quite frankly, I shouldn't be taking anything less than murder two!" He threw his glasses down on the desk and rubbed his eyes. "She maybe has a point about one thing, though."

"What's that?"

"Maybe I don't know how to talk to kids. I'm certainly having enough trouble with my own two."

It was the understatement of the year. Pamela was turning thirteen next month and trying to organise to spend any time with her was proving almost impossible. Laura wasn't helping matters much either. Every time he appealed to her to try and assist him she simply told him that it was for him to sort out directly with his daughter. In all honestly, Laura was becoming more and more difficult to communicate with of late and, though he knew it was none of his business, he was starting to think that she was in a new relationship. Not that it bothered him, after all they had been divorced for ten years and he was pretty sure she hadn't been living the life of a nun.

"Have you got her a present?"

"No and that's another thing. Every time I try to enquire as to what she might want, she basically just mumbles and changes the subject. What do thirteen year old girls like anyway?"

Evelyn paused, "It's been a long time since I was thirteen...does she like sports? Basketball? Ice hockey? Would she want to go to a game?"

"She used to like hockey but..." he trailed off, somewhat embarrassed that he didn't even know if she still did. "Last time I saw her, she looked as though there had been an explosion in a beauty salon."

"Well if she's hit the makeup phase, maybe you could..."

"Makeup phase? She's thirteen, not thirty!"

Evelyn got to her feet. "Well, as much as I'd love to debate with you about your daughter and what does or does not constitute an appropriately fatherly gift, I have to go and pick up the keys to my apartment before the office closes."

"I'm sorry," he said, picking up on the edge in her tone. "I don't mean to take any of this out on you."

"It's fine. Isn't that what assistants are for?"

"I'm taking advantage of your good nature."

"Feel free. I reckon I've done the same when it's come to my own problems."

Ben looked over at her and noticed for the first time that day how tired she looked. She had confided in him that she had been having trouble sleeping since Edward had told her about his involvement with the Lucchese family and that her lawyer had been chasing her regarding the separation agreement which she felt she couldn't negotiate further on until she knew whether or not Edward had the funds to give her. He had also, apparently, been dodging her calls and any progress on their separation had gradually ground to a halt. As for his own progress on indicting anyone in the family...that had also gone nowhere fast. Patrick Lehrman had pled as agreed and been sentenced to two years in prison, but he was yet to give any kind of deposition naming anyone. Porter and Haywood had been convicted in the second degree and were currently on bail pending appeal.

On the bright side, Evelyn had taken him up on his earlier offer to introduce her to his realtor friend who had, in turn, successfully found her a new apartment on the Lower East Side. For a time, she had seemed really excited about it, regaling him with tales of weekends spent trawling furniture stores whilst he tried to see his children, but as the time to move in had grown closer, she had become more nervous, confiding that she was anxious about living alone for the first time in her life.

He had to acknowledge that over the last few weeks they had grown closer, though neither of them had given voice to what he knew they were both thinking.

"What are friends for, if not to remind you that you'd better hurry if you want to be there by six?" She grinned at him, grabbed her bag and hightailed it out of his office, leaving his words floating in the air after her.

Friends.

XXXX

The apartment was small, but perfectly adequate. One bedroom, a living room, kitchen, bathroom and a small alcove that she could use as a study. It was certainly nothing like the Manhattan apartment she'd lived in with Edward, but just stepping inside she felt a sense of homecoming. This was her home. No-one else, except her landlord, had any claim over it and the best part was, Edward had no idea where it was. Though he had never come to her mother's apartment during the time she had been staying there, it had disquieted her to know that he so readily knew where she was. As she accepted the keys and closed the door behind the agent, she let out a long breath, thanking her mother once again for generously lending her a sum of money that covered the first month's rent and incidentals.

"Hopefully this can tide you over until you can get some money out of Edward," she had said. "When do you think that will be?"

"I wish I knew," she had replied honestly. If it had been bad before his revelations, it was worse now. The chances of her getting anything were fading fast and she was starting to think that it would be better to act as though there would indeed be nothing. Maybe it would indeed be better that way. Then she really would owe him nothing. In her conversations with Ben on the subject, he had certainly tried to steer her in that direction and just the thought of him made her feel calmer.

Though empty at the moment, she had scheduled for a bed and sofa to be delivered at the weekend and she was looking forward to making the place her own, even if living alone did bring with it its own set of fears and concerns.

"You're a big girl Evelyn," she said aloud to herself, her voice echoing around the space. "And you can do this. On your own."

XXXX

"Detective Logan, when you arrived at the scene, can you describe what you saw?"

"Mr Masters was lying on the floor in the hallway. He was dead."

"What position was he lying in?"

"He was on his back."

"And could you determine cause of death?"

"Objection," Shambala said, "the witness is a police officer not a pathologist."

"I'll rephrase the question," Ben said, sighing inwardly at how much of a pedant she was being. "Could you see if he had any injuries?"

"There were two bullet wounds in his chest and one in his right leg," Mike replied.

"And at that time, was there any sign of a weapon?"

"No."

"Did you inform the next of kin?"

"His wife claimed she had discovered her husband dead so she was already in the house, but she was too upset to take a statement from at that time."

"Did you ascertain whether or not Mr Masters had owned a gun?"

"His wife later confirmed that he had owned a thirty-eight which he usually kept in the desk drawer in his study."

"And did you eventually locate the weapon in question?"

"Yes, CSU found the gun in the back garden of the Masters' home."

Ben turned back to the prosecution table and lifted a gun which he held out towards Mike. "This is People's exhibit thirteen. Is this the gun that was recovered?"

"Yes."

"And was the gun tested by the police ballistics department?"

"Yes."

"And do you know the result of those tests?"

"It was the same gun used to kill Mr Masters."

"Thank you," Ben put the gun back down on the desk. "Did you have cause to speak to the defendant, Todd Masters, at any time?"

"Yes," Mike replied, glancing over to where Todd was sitting. "We questioned him routinely as to his whereabouts on the night in question and he told us he was with his mother, Annette."

"Did she confirm that?"

"Yes she did."

"And did you at some point, have cause to disbelieve her?"

"She had told us that she and her son were together until nine o'clock that night, however other evidence indicated that they parted company earlier than that."

"So, did Todd Masters have a credible alibi for the night of his father's murder?"

"Objection!" Shambala got to her feet. "It's for the jury to assess credibility, Your Honour, not this witness."

"Sustained," Judge Leon said.

"Did Todd Masters have an alibi for the night of his father's murder?" Ben asked.

"Not for the whole evening, no."

"Thank you, your witness." Ben made his way back over to the prosecution table as Shambala got to her feet. As he sat down, Evelyn slid him a piece of paper bearing the names of three other prosecution witnesses and a question mark.

"Detective Logan," Shambala began. "In your investigation into this killing, did you form a picture of what kind of man Peter Masters was?"

"Objection!" Ben got to his feet. "The victim is not on trial here."

"I'm simply seeking to establish the family dynamic."

"Overruled, but watch your step Miss Green."

"Thank you Your Honour. Detective?"

Mike paused. "He appeared to have a reputation for being a difficult man."

"Did you run a background check on him?"

"Yes."

"And what did you find?"

"Objection!" Ben stood again.

"Sustained," Judge Leon replied. "None of that please, Miss Green."

"When you spoke with my client," Shambala said, "did he tell you about the relationship he had with his father?"

"He said that his father was violent towards his mother and to him," Mike replied. "He said they had a difficult relationship. He said he never felt as though anything he did was good enough for his father."

"And how did he seem when he told you this?" Mike paused. "Was he angry? Upset...?"

"He got upset."

"Did he cry?"

"Yes."

"Did you feel sorry for him?"

"Objection!"

"Sustained."

"I have no more questions," Shambala made her way back over to the defence table and sat down, immediately turning to converse with her client.

"We'll recess until after lunch," Judge Leon said, banging his gavel and getting to his feet.

"She's going to try every trick in the book to get the father's behaviour admissible somehow," Ben said tetchily, turning to Evelyn. "What about those other three witnesses?"

"Their depositions are definitely not with the papers we have here. Maybe they got left out of the brief by accident," she replied. "I'll run back to the office and have them recopied just in case."

"Fine," he replied, "I'll meet you back here before we reconvene."

As she hurried off, Mike approached the table. "I'm sorry," he said.

"You did fine," Ben replied. "We all know what Miss Green's angle for this trial is so it's only to be expected."

"She wants to make out that the father was so bad the kid had no option but to kill him?"

"Exactly."

"You know...to be honest...the way everyone described Masters?" Mike shook his head. "It sounds like the kid might have had a point."

"The point being that you don't get on with your father so you put three bullets in him?"

"No, I guess not. But he sounds like he was the worst kind of family abuser. Can't say I envy the kid living with that." They started walking out of the courtroom together. "Speaking of which, can't you convince Evelyn to press charges?"

"Against who?"

"That creep of a husband of hers. I know what he's like towards her."

Ben sighed, "You know as well as I do how difficult it is to successfully prosecute these kind of cases. Don't think I haven't tried to convince her myself but even with her testimony, it would be hard to make it stick without corroborating witnesses and, in most of these cases, there never are any."

"What, Lennie and I don't count?"

Ben frowned, "How do you mean?"

"Last month, when she met with him in the precinct and he had her up against the wall."

Ben stopped and looked at him, "What?"

"I don't know what she said to him but it sure as hell made him mad and we were right there to witness it. I would have thought that would have been your best shot to at least get him for something."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "She met him at the precinct?"

"Yeah," Mike said. "She said she thought it would be safer seeing as she'd be surrounded by cops. Bastard still took a run at her though."

"You arrested him?"

"After I'd pulled him off her, sure. But she tap-danced around it, refused to press charges and all we could do was hold him for a few hours and then let him go." Mike frowned. "You didn't know about this?"

"No," Ben replied shortly. "No, I didn't."

XXXX

He was angry. So angry that it filtered into his examination of his own witnesses with Shambala objecting more than once, in a surprised tone of voice, as to his attitude towards them. Judge Leon also seemed confused and, at one point, asked him if he wanted an adjournment for a few moments to regain his thoughts. He had declined. One of the CSU techs had given evidence, then Luke Foster, one of Todd's classmates, whom Todd had allegedly confessed to after the crime, followed by Janice Hagen, a work colleague of Todd's mother who testified that Annette had arrived at work earlier than she was claiming she had. Shambala had done her best to try and break each of them down and though they had all stuck to their stories, she had managed to get some evidence in from Luke and Janice about Peter Master's behaviour towards his family.

Next to him, Ben could tell that Evelyn was also confused. Every time he caught her eye he could see the uncertainty in her expression and when he sat down between witnesses, she leaned over to try and talk to him, only for him to bat her away. When he closed his case and the court recessed for the day, he didn't wait for her, gathering his things and getting out of the courtroom as quickly as he could. He knew she had a session with Olivet that evening, therefore there was no need for them to ride back to the office together and, all the way there, all he could think about was her stupidity, not to mention his own.

"How's it going?" Adam asked a few hours later, stopping by his office as he made his way towards the elevator.

"Fine," Ben replied shortly.

"Do you think the jury are sympathising with the boy?"

"How the hell would I know, Adam? I'm just trying the case."

There was a short silence. "Boy and his mother take the stand tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Then I've no doubt you'll get what you need from them," Adam said generously, before leaving him alone.

Immediately he felt guilty for his attitude and he knew he should go home and try to forget about it all until the next day, but his endless pursuit of perfection won out and he started going over his notes for cross examination. As usual, he became engrossed, so much so that he didn't hear her come into his office until she was standing mere feet away.

"What are you doing here?" he asked when he saw her, his tone harsh.

"Uh...well I was concerned about your attitude this afternoon," she replied, "and I wanted to check that you were all right."

"Oh really?" he looked at her. "And what was wrong with my attitude?"

"Come on Ben, you were aggressive and difficult to our own witnesses..." she spread her hands in confusion. "You know I wasn't the only one who thought so. Did something happen over lunch?"

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"Well that's rich coming from you."

Evelyn paused, "What?"

"There's only one liar in this room and it isn't me."

"What the hell does that mean?"

He shook his head, unsure of exactly what he was feeling but knowing that things simply couldn't continue the way they had been, for his own sanity if nothing else. "I can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Caring about what happens to you! Asking you not to be alone with him! Badgering you to press charges when all the time you're just throwing it back in my face!"

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

Her refusal to admit it only served to irk him more. "You met Edward at the 2-7 last month didn't you?"

Her face paled. "How did you...?"

"Didn't you?" he insisted.

"Yes, but..."

"And he assaulted you, didn't he?"

"He...pushed me up against a wall, it was nothing..."

"Nothing?"Ben got to his feet and advanced on her, almost unable to believe that she was still defending the man who had done so much to her. "Mike Logan had to forcibly pull him off you and that's nothing?"

She ducked her head, "Mike told you."

"You're damn right he did and I felt like an idiot when I had to tell him that I knew nothing about it!"

"I told you before, I don't expect you to understand..."

"Good, because I don't! You came straight back here to tell me all about what he had told you about his involvement with the Luccheses' , only you left out the single, most important detail that he had assaulted you!"

"I'm sorry," she said, looking up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears, "I should have told you."

"I'm tired of saying the same things over and over again to you, Evelyn," he sighed. "I'm tired of being your crutch, the person you seem to want to come running to all the time with your problems. What the hell do you expect me to say to you all the time? You've had weeks to tell me about this and you chose not to. Did you think that Mike or Lennie would never bring it up?"

"I..."

"It gets very wearying when you're constantly asked for advice that never gets taken!"

The tears spilled down her face. "Maybe I don't need advice. Maybe I just need you to be there..."

"As what?"

"My friend."

There was that word again. "Your friend? Do you know what I think about sometimes when I look at you? Believe me, it's not very friendly!"

"So, what...you think about hitting me too, is that it?"

"No, damn it, I think about making love to you right here on this Goddamn desk!"

"So why don't you?" she shot back. "Do you really think for one minute that I would stop you?"

The words hung in the air between them in an atmosphere so highly charged it felt as though it would combust at any moment. He'd said it. He'd said what he'd been thinking ever since they had first touched that night on the street. Every time they were alone together, every time he brushed past her, every time he looked at her...there was barely anyone left in the building, cleaning staff if that. Who would ever know? Who would ever know if he just...gave in, the way he desperately wanted to?

The way she clearly wanted to.

As he watched, she unbuttoned her jacket and tossed it onto the table before starting on the buttons of her blouse. Mesmerised, he watched as each one slipped out, revealing more flesh, the swell of her breasts encased in white lace. He let out a shuddering breath, thinking about all the times he had imagined his mouth there...

"Ben?" she whispered, her hands poised, ready to slide the material from her body.

He could feel the strength of his arousal pressing against his pants and could almost imagine how slick she might be. It wouldn't take long, he could tell. Kissing her, on the two occasions he had, had almost been enough to send him into orbit. And now, here she was, moments away from being naked in front of him. He knew he could make it good for her. He knew he could do all the things to her that she desperately needed. He knew he could be as gentle or as fierce as she wanted. He knew that he could make her cry out with pleasure the way her husband never had. He knew...

He couldn't do it.

It would just be sex. Fulfilling a want...a need...but there had to be more to it than that. There had to be something deeper and, right at that moment in time, feeling as he did about what he perceived to be her lies, he knew it wasn't enough.

Slowly, he turned his back on her, focusing on the lights outside his window, giving her her privacy and waiting for the sound of rustling material to indicate that she had dressed herself again. The tension in the room started to decrease and, in its place, he could feel her embarrassment.

"Maybe...maybe I should ask to be reassigned after all," she said finally, her voice small behind him.

"Maybe that would be for the best," he heard himself say, though he knew it was the last thing he wanted.

"Fine. I'll talk to Schiff in the morning. Once this case is over..." she left the words hanging.

Ben heard his door open and close and then she was gone.

Chapter Text

"What's the matter?" Susan asked. "Has something happened?"

"No," Evelyn replied as she headed straight for the drinks cabinet and poured herself a large scotch.

"Well you don't normally come in from work needing a drink."

"It's...it's just been a difficult day," she replied, the liquid burning her throat and warming her stomach as she drank. The events of that evening had haunted her since she had escaped Ben's office, clutching whatever little dignity she had left. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the expression on his face as he had confronted her, the look in his eyes when she had started to remove her blouse...she poured another glass.

"So difficult that you need two drinks?"

"Mom, can you just leave it, please?!" she rounded on her. "I'm forty years old! If I want to come home from work and have a drink then surely that's my business!"

Susan pursed her lips. "You're living in my home, remember? I don't think it unreasonable to show concern when my daughter, who rarely drinks, comes home from work and starts attacking the alcohol!"

"I know it's your home, Mom, and let's just be thankful I'll be moving out this weekend." Evelyn drained the second glass and slammed it down onto the table. "I'm going to my room, unless you want to interrogate me further." Without waiting for an answer, she made her way to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her like a hormonal teenager. Once alone, she stripped out of her work clothes, scrubbed her face free of makeup and pulled on her pyjamas before throwing herself down on her bed, hoping against all hope that something, anything, could come along to change what had happened.

She could still hear the echoes of their conversation.

No, damn it, I think about making love to you right here on this Goddamn desk!

So why don't you? Do you really think for one minute that I would stop you?

"Oh God..." she groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "Sad...pathetic..." What had she been thinking? It was one thing for Ben to tell her his thoughts and for her to do the same but quite another for her to then start stripping in front of him. Shame flooded her as she recalled him turning his back on her and how she had felt her face flame as she had hastily dressed, slapped by the biggest rejection possible. How in the world was she ever going to face him again? What was she going to say? I'm sorry I took my clothes off in your office, it won't happen again?

And it wasn't even that, she had to remind herself. That had just been a by-product of a much larger issue, namely his anger at her not telling him about Edward. Even if they could get past her embarrassment, she knew that her lie of omission had probably cost her the only friend she had. And why hadn't she told him? Because she was ashamed that she had allowed herself to be used by her husband once again. Because she was angry with herself for the self-righteous way she had told Ben that Edward couldn't hurt her again but had let him do just that. She was an idiot and she didn't deserve him as a friend.

Friend...who are you kidding. You wanted him to fuck you. If he hadn't been such a boy scout you would have been on that desk with your legs open in less than thirty seconds.

"And what's wrong with that?" she asked aloud. "Fifteen years of pretty awful sex and I'm not allowed to actually want someone?"

And you want him. Admit it to yourself. Two minutes out of a marriage and you're already hot for someone else. Slut.

She sat up, grabbed the remote and flicked on the small television in the corner, turning the volume up as loud as she dared, hoping to drown out her incessant inner monologue. At this rate, she would need therapy for the rest of her life.

XXXX

When he got home, Ben found a message on the answering machine from Laura, telling him that the children wanted to come down and visit him that weekend, that she hoped it would suit him and that if she didn't hear from him she would assume everything was fine and that he would meet the Saturday morning train. If there was ever an implication that she didn't want him to call back, that was it. So he didn't.

Instead, he undressed, took a long shower and then sat down to watch some television. Ten minutes later, having flicked through every channel, he turned it off and tried the newspaper instead. Two pages in and the words started to dance in front of his eyes so, tossing it angrily to one side, he made himself a drink and sat in the semi-darkness instead.

He was still angry with her. Angry that she had put herself in a position to allow Edward to hurt her again...angry that she hadn't confided in him about it...angry that she hadn't told him where to go when he had told her he wanted to make love to her.

No, damn it, I think about making love to you right here on this Goddamn desk!

He shivered at the memory of how badly he had wanted her in that moment, ashamed of his own physical needs and how they had almost gotten in the way of what he knew was right. She had been an abused wife, emotionally, physically, most likely sexually and there he had stood, purporting to be her friend, while telling her that he really thought no more of her than something he would like to bend over.

And what had she done? She hadn't slapped him, told him his thoughts were inappropriate, made it clear she would make a complaint...no...she had stood in front of him, unbuttoned her blouse and basically told him he could have her.

So why don't you? Do you really think for one minute that I would stop you?

"Jesus..." he got to his feet and started pacing around the room. Is that how she had felt night after night married to Edward? That he had rights over her that she couldn't say no to? When he had demanded sex from her had she felt she had no choice but to simply roll over and let him take what he wanted? God only knew he never wanted it to be like that. And yet, the look in her eyes...it hadn't appeared for one moment that she had been anything other than willing...

In bed, he lay staring at the ceiling, allowing his mind to go to all the places that he hadn't been able to take his body to. In the sweaty aftermath he told himself that was it. Done. Finished. They were colleagues, nothing more. It had to be that way. For both their sakes.

XXXX

"I can't reassign you. I've no-one to reassign you to."

Evelyn looked down at the floor, hating the fact that she was even standing there asking for a move, but knowing that there really hadn't been any choice. Adam's expression had registered surprise when she had told him the purpose of her being there, but to his credit he hadn't started interrogating her about it. "What about Claire?"

"What about Claire?"

"Well, couldn't we trade places? She's worked with Ben before and they got on well. I'm sure that, given time, Jack McCoy and I..."

"If I did that, I've have a full scale mutiny on my hands," Adam replied. "She and Jack have established a good working relationship." He paused and looked at her curiously. "Does Ben know that you're here?"

"Of course."

"So what's the problem?"

The problem...how could she even begin to tell him the problem? How could she tell him that after finally falling asleep last night, her dreams had been peppered with thoughts of Ben making good on what he had said...his hands...his mouth...and she had woken up sweating from the intensity of it."It's...nothing."

"It can't be nothing if you want to be reassigned," Adam said. "You know, at one time, I might have expected this suggestion to come from Ben, but not from you."

She met his gaze, "How do you mean?"

"Well you weren't exactly his first choice to replace Paul."

"No..." she recalled their first meeting outside the courthouse. "I suppose I wouldn't be."

"Look..." he sighed. "Can you give it another few weeks? I might be able to work something out after that if you still feel the same way."

"Fine. I'm sorry that I had to bring it up."

"Mrs Burns?" She turned back from the office door. "Try and work it out. From what I've seen, you make a good team, problems or not."

XXXX

Ben had gotten to the courthouse early that morning, partly to get himself psyched up for the day ahead but also partly to avoid Evelyn until the last minute. At least in court, there would be too many other people around for things to be awkward, but in his office, the scene of the previous evening's events...he knew it wouldn't have been the best first meeting, especially as he couldn't help but think that she would know his thoughts as soon as she looked at him. Slowly, other people started to filter in. Court officials, officers, the stenographer, not to mention members of the public. Todd Masters came in and sat down at the defence table, never once looking in his direction.

"You're keen." Ben looked up moments later to see Shambala standing beside him. "You do realise that this is my day though, right?"

"I'm well aware of the order of things," he replied, getting to his feet, good manners preventing him sitting when a lady was standing. "I just hope for your sake you have your witnesses well prepped."

"I've warned them about you," she replied, looking him up and down. "A wolf in sheeps' clothing."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning you can exude all the boyish charm you want, but we all know there's steel underneath." Ben opened his mouth to respond, and then wondered if such conversation constituted the 'flirting' which Evelyn had alluded to previously, so closed it again. Shambala glanced behind him. "Where's your assistant? On the coffee run?"

"She's on her way."

"I would have thought being your bagman would have been a bit of a comedown for her after the lofty heights of her husband's firm. I mean, to go from trying cases herself to sitting beside you with her mouth closed? Not exactly a confidence booster, is it?"

This time, he couldn't remain silent, offended on her behalf. "And I would have thought that an esteemed female member of the bar such as yourself wouldn't be so quick to disparage one of her own." Shambala had the good grace to look cowed. "Maybe you should go over and talk to your client, because prepped or not, he's in for a rough ride this morning."

Her game face returned, "Then I hope you're ready, Stone, because he's up first and I think you're going to find his testimony very enlightening..."

Ben sighed and sat back down in his chair, just as he felt a presence on his other side and looked up to see Evelyn hovering at the edge of the table.

"Morning," she greeted him cautiously.

"Morning," he replied as measured as possible, trying not to look at her as she took the papers out of her briefcase, put them on the table and sat down beside him. The silence hung heavily between them as the general noise of the courtroom surrounded them, and when he chanced to glance at her, she quickly averted her eyes. He could feel the previous nights anger draining away and, to his own shame, found all her could think about was her open blouse. "Shambala's putting Todd up first."

"Really? I thought the mother would testify first."

"Apparently not."

There was another long silence and he shuffled the papers in front of him, hating the fact that he was finding it so difficult to act normally around her, wanting to bring up what had happened and yet knowing that he needed to remain professional now.

"I spoke to Adam," she said lowering her voice. "Unfortunately, he can't reassign me at the moment, but maybe in a couple of weeks...I even offered to trade with Claire and go and work for McCoy but apparently that's a non-starter. I guess we know the rumours about them are true." Ben didn't say anything, hating McCoy. "I suppose we're just going to have to find a way to get along for now."

"I suppose so."

"For what it's worth...I am sorry...for everything."

Her apology caught him off guard and he opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the court officer announcing that the court was in session and Judge Leon striding onto the bench.

"Are you ready to begin Miss Green?" he asked.

"Ready Your Honour," Shambala replied.

"Call your first witness."

"The defence calls Todd Masters." Todd rose from his seat at the table and walked towards the witness stand where he took the oath and then sat down facing the crowds. Over the course of the next ten minutes Shambala took him through his background and home life, eliciting evidence about his father's behaviour that Ben objected to but was overruled on, before honing in on the night of his father's murder. "Did you kill your father, Todd?"

He looked straight at her. "Yes."

Ben started at the response, it not being what he expected, and he looked at Evelyn to see that she was equally as surprised.

"Why did you kill him?" Shambala asked.

"Because he tried to kill me."

Ben got to his feet, "Your Honour..."

"It was self defence," Todd continued as though he hadn't heard him.

"Your Honour, may we approach?!" Ben demanded. Judge Leon waved him and Shambala towards him. "Your Honour, the people have had no notification of this line of defence. Had we been aware..."

"It's only just come to light, Your Honour," Shambala interrupted. "I can't be at fault for simply following my client's instructions."

"What's going on, Miss Green?" Judge Leon asked, covering his microphone with his hand.

"Your Honour, Mr Masters has been repressing the events of the night in question and it was only last night that he felt able to confide in me what had really happened."

"How convenient," Ben said, "when the People have already presented their case."

The judge sighed. "Both of you, in my chambers."

XXXX

"By not disclosing this line of defence at the beginning of the trial..."

"Like I said earlier, this information only came to my attention last night. Up until that point, my client was insistent he hadn't killed his father."

"You deliberately misled the court!" Ben snapped.

Shambala turned indignant eyes on him, "I resent that counsellor. I've presented nothing that I didn't believe to be the truth! If he had told me this earlier and I had deliberately kept it from the court then we would be having a different conversation."

"A very different conversation," Judge Leon chimed in. "As it is..."

"As it is, the People find themselves at a disadvantage," Ben interrupted. "Had I known this was going to be Mr Masters' position I would have presented the case differently."

"In what sense?" Shambala asked. "You've been trying to prove that he killed his father. I've just given you a huge advantage in that department."

"You're presenting a completely different theory! Now you're saying that rather than some other person killing Peter Masters, his own son did it because he was being threatened!"

"So what's the problem? You can still cross-examine him on his testimony the same way you were going to before." Ben paused, knowing that he would simply sound juvenile and petty to tell her that his entire cross was going to be worthless given he hadn't prepared for such a radical shift in position. "You're an experienced litigator, Stone, you can think on your feet."

Judge Leon looked at him, "I'm inclined to agree, Ben."

"Your Honour..."

"I'm willing to give you some time to prepare fresh cross examination if that would help."

"Well I suppose it's better than nothing," Ben replied ungraciously.

"Fine. We'll resume after lunch."

XXXX

"This whole thing is bogus!" Ben raged, pacing around Adam's office. "Repressing the events of the night in question...he knew he wasn't going to be believed so he came up with this."

"He's a nineteen year old college kid," Adam replied. "Not a legal genius."

"You think Green coached him?"

"Do you?"

Ben sighed, "She's not that kind of attorney. Zealous...passionate...sometimes too much so, but I can't see her wilfully trying to defraud the court."

"It's hardly defrauding the court," Evelyn said.

"Oh really, what would you call it then?" Ben rounded on her.

"She can't help it if he suddenly gives her new information at the last moment. What else was she supposed to do?"

"She might have had the common courtesy to advise us in advance rather than simply let him come out with it on the stand!"

"Come on, she's a defence attorney, it's her job. It obviously had more impact coming out that way!"

"Well, you would know."

Evelyn paused, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Suddenly I'm seeing the problem," Adam remarked.

"I mean, you know how they operate," Ben replied, ignoring him, "You did it yourself for long enough."

"So we're all just the same then, are we? All defence attorneys are out to defraud the court?"

"That's not what I said..."

"No?"

"What about a plea?" Adam interjected.

"What about a plea?" Ben said.

"Would you consider taking one?"

"Only if it's manslaughter one and he does five years, as I previously offered."

"Will she take it?"

"Doubtful. She wanted criminally negligent homicide."

Evelyn got to her feet. "Why don't you let me talk to her?" They both looked at her. "Maybe as an apparently devious former defence attorney I can convince her that a plea is in her client's best interests." Adam waved his hand in acceptance and she turned to look at Ben.

"You don't go below man one," he warned her.

"Of course not."

"I mean it Evelyn," he got to his feet and came to stand in front of her. "Don't come back here and tell me you even gave her so much as man two!"

"Don't you trust me?" she asked acerbically.

He sighed, knowing it was the least of the emotions he felt for her. "Of course I trust you."

"Then trust me."

XXXX

"Did he send you?" Shambala looked her up and down.

"No," Evelyn replied. "In fact, he wasn't overly thrilled at my suggestion that I talk to you." They were standing in the court rotunda, surrounded by other people going about their business so she had to raise her voice slightly to be heard.

"Well, if it was your idea...what do you want?"

"To talk about a plea."

Shambala smiled, "I've already trodden that path with your office."

"Not with me you haven't."

"Really? And what are you offering?"

"Manslaughter one, five years."

"That's old news. I've got the jury's sympathy," Shambala said. "A violent and irascible father who made my client's life a misery. One night, he attacks his son and his son shoots him in self defence...I think the jury can see where this is going."

"Being violent and irascible doesn't give people the right to murder you," Evelyn replied. "I should know."

Shambala looked at her, "I was surprised when I heard you'd crossed the street to this office. I mean, you were part of the largest firm across the river and married to..."

"The biggest asshole that ever lived," Evelyn interrupted her. "A man that I thought I wouldn't mind shooting on numerous occasions. But I didn't."

The other woman paused. "He's nineteen."

"Yes he is, and five years from now he'll be twenty-four and still able to build a life for himself. But if the jury don't see things your way, he's going to be lucky to get out before he's fifty and for what's it worth...I happen to believe him."

Shambala's eyes widened, "You believe he shot his father in self defence?"

"No, I believe he shot him because he couldn't take his father's behaviour any more. It's an emotion I can identify with. It doesn't make him innocent but it makes him sympathetic."

Shambala sighed, "If Stone had put manslaughter on the indictment..."

"We wouldn't be having this conversation."

"What would you do?"

"As a prosecutor? Try to get murder two," Evelyn replied. "As a defence attorney...talk to your client. Try and make him understand that this deal is the best outcome for everyone. You know that as well as I do."

XXXX

"She'll take manslaughter one, five years."

Ben looked up at her from behind his desk. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing that she didn't already know herself. She knows it's a good deal. The kid did too. It didn't take long for him to agree. I notified Judge Leon's clerk. He wants to reconvene in half an hour to explain the situation to the jury."

"Fine," Ben stood up and lifted his jacket. "Good work."

"So we're not all bad then?"

"Who?"

"Defence attorneys."

He had the good grace to look slightly sheepish. "Even though you're a prosecutor now...I know you weren't the kind of defence attorney to cross the line. I was wrong to suggest that you were and, for that, I'm sorry."

"Just for that?" she said before she could stop herself.

Ben looked at her for a long moment and she could almost see the inner conflict played out on his face. "I shouldn't have said what I did last night."

"Neither should I," she replied. "It's probably for the best that we just keep things...professional from now on. Especially if we're going to continue working together. But I do at least owe you my thanks...for a lot of things." It felt like a farewell, even though it wasn't and she could feel an inexplicable lump forming in her throat and her eyes started to sting.

"Evelyn..."

"We'd better go," she said quickly, looking at her watch. "After all this, the last thing we need is being held in contempt for lateness."

Chapter Text

August 1993

Two weeks later

The autopsy pictures made her nauseous and yet she couldn't stop looking at them. Callie Watkins, a beautiful, blonde three year old girl, lying dead on a slab, her little body covered with marks and injuries, her hair matted with blood. Callie had lived on Lexington Avenue with her mother Alice and a succession of Alice's boyfriends, most recently Thomas Finch. The story that a tearful Alice had given to Logan and Briscoe had been that she had returned home from work to find Callie unconscious. Thomas had been watching her and he had claimed that the little girl hadn't been well so he had put her to bed. By the time she had arrived at the hospital, Callie had been dead. The ME had said that cause of death was blunt force trauma, but that there were also signs of physical neglect. Finch had been arraigned and was sitting in Rikers awaiting trial.

Evelyn took another mouthful of coffee and turned over the pages in the file, hiding the girl's face. Why she had decided to bring the files home that weekend was anybody's guess, but most likely so as to give herself something to think about other than her own lonely existence. Work was an escape and from 8am Monday morning until roughly 6pm Friday night, she didn't really have to think about herself at all. Weekends, however, were a whole different matter.

Getting to her feet, she moved over to the window and looked out down towards the street. Second floor, as high as she had really wanted to go. One day she might make it to the top of the Empire State Building, but she certainly didn't want to live there. Her mind flittered back to the conversation she had had with Ben about heights and boats, back when they could talk about personal things without it being awkward. She knew, purely from overhearing a conversation, that he had had his children that weekend. She hoped, for his sake, it had gone well.

Just as she was contemplating going out to get something for dinner, the phone in the corner rang and she picked it up, automatically assuming it was her mother. "Hello?"

"You're home, at last. I've called you three times today, where have you been?"

The sound of his voice gave her chills, "Eddie?"

"Yes, exactly."

"How did you get this number?" she demanded.

"Does it matter? Look, we need to talk."

"Yes, it does matter!" She cast her gaze around her apartment, ridiculously fearing that he might be outside the door waiting to come in and wondering if she had anything she could use as a weapon.

"There are ways and means, but that's not why I'm calling."

Evelyn took a breath, determined not to let him know that he had unsettled her. "So why are you calling?"

"I might have a proposal," he said. "A financial one. One that I think you might find acceptable and then we can agree to put this whole divorce thing to bed."

"I thought you didn't have any money? I thought that the mob had their hands on all of it."

Edward paused, "Well that might not have been strictly accurate."

This was so typical, so fucking typical. "So, what...all that stuff you told me about the Lucchese family was bullshit?"

"No, not exactly...look, I'd rather not do this over the phone. Please can we meet somewhere?"

The memory of that night at the precinct came flooding back. When she had tried to talk to him rationally in a place where she thought she would be safe. The noise of her back hitting the wall reverberated around her head and the image of his face, contorted with rage, swam before her eyes. "No."

"Come on Evelyn..."

"I said, no! If you want to discuss anything you can do it through my attorney, you know her number. Don't ever call me here again!" Before he could respond, she slammed the phone down and stood, staring at it, shaking.

There are ways and means...she shuddered at the implication. Had he been following her? Had he paid someone to follow her? Was there someone watching the apartment right now? She looked out of the window again, not even sure what she was expecting to see but finding nothing that aroused her suspicions. Calm down, she told herself, he's just trying to scare you. "Well it's working," she said aloud, looking around for her purse.

Though she was probably more of a target on the street, she felt trapped in the apartment, somewhere she had originally felt safe and it was only as she walked further away from it in the evening sunshine that she felt her pulse starting to slow and her fear to be slowly replaced by anger. "Damn you Eddie," she cursed under her breath. Then, to distract herself, she went into the local store, picked something microwavable for her dinner and slowly started making her way back towards home.

It was strange, but as she walked, it felt as though all the people she passed were in families. Couples, couples with kids, parents with kids, grandparents with kids...and of course why shouldn't they be out enjoying the last few hours of Sunday sunshine before the working week began again? But where were the other lonely people? The people who had no-one to spend the evening with, except for a dead child?

Her feet turned her away from the apartment and she found herself walking and walking in a familiar direction. She didn't know how long it had taken her to get there, but once there she knew there was no turning back.

The 27th Precinct wasn't busy that evening. Perhaps crime had also slowed down on that sunny Sunday. As she stepped into the squad room, casting around for a familiar face, a detective approached her, someone she recognised but couldn't put a name to. When she asked for Mike or Lennie, he told her they were in with the captain, but to make herself comfortable at their desks and they wouldn't be long. So she did. She sat in Lennie's chair, looking at the pictures of his daughters that sat on his desk. They reminded her of the pictures behind Ben's desk, particularly the one she had playfully mocked when he had resembled someone out of the Rolling Stones.

"Evelyn?" she started at the mention of her name and saw Mike approach her, followed by Lennie. "Don't tell me you have nothing better to do with your weekend than come down here. We don't have any cases for you."

"No, I...I know," she said. "I...uh...I wanted to talk."

"Shoot," Lennie said, perching on the end of the desk while Mike sat in his own chair. "Your conversation has to be more scintillating than Van Buren's."

She looked down at her hands, more specifically at her wedding and engagement rings that still burned on her ring finger. Why in God's name was she still wearing them? "I...I wanted...I want to make a complaint," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

"Against...?"

"My husband. Edward Burns." She slid the rings off of her finger and placed them on Lennie's desk.

"About what happened here last month?" Mike asked, leaning forwards.

Evelyn met his gaze, licked her lips and took a deep breath. "About all of it."

XXXX

"Are you mad?"

Ben looked across at his daughter, standing kicking into the floor with the toe of her trainer. "No, why would I be mad?"

"About next weekend. About us not coming. About us going to LA."

"Why would I be mad about that?" he replied. "I know you'll have a great time."

Pamela looked up, "I thought you'd be mad."

"Listen, when I was your age, a trip to LA would have been more exciting than visiting my old dad in the city. Just because I won't see you on your actual birthday doesn't mean I can't see you the following weekend if you want to come down."

Pamela glanced at Peter. "Yeah, I guess so. It's been fun."

They were words Ben hadn't expected her to say. Having not seen either of his children for the best part of two months, he had found himself somewhat nervous at their expected arrival. And although the conversation had been initially stilted when he had met the train the previous morning, it had quickly returned to how it used to be and, running the risk of becoming the 'fun parent' who never has to take any real responsibility, he allowed both of them to do whatever they wanted and he bought them whatever they wanted, Pamela in particular. They had shopped, gone to a Rangers game, gone to the movies, had lunch and now they were going back home to their mother and he couldn't help but wonder when he might see them next.

Against his better judgement, he had allowed Pamela to buy makeup from Macy's and when she had put some of it on that morning, he had found himself slightly speechless at how grown up she had looked, even for a girl not quite yet thirteen.

"I wish you were coming to LA," Pamela said.

"Pam, shut up," Peter said.

"No, why should I? Just because I'd rather Dad was coming than Mark? You shut up."

Ben bit his tongue. It was the third time that Mark had been mentioned that weekend and he had gleaned, as stealthily as he could without interrogating either of them, that Laura had been seeing him for over six months and that he was going with them on Pamela's birthday trip next weekend. Part of him felt slightly aggrieved, not at the fact that his ex-wife had a new relationship, but at the fact she had chosen not to tell him that a man he knew nothing about was practically living with his children. Maybe it was the job. Maybe it was making him cynical. Or maybe he had spent too long the previous week thinking about the Callie Watkins case.

"I'm sure he's a nice guy," he said generously. "I hope you're not as moody with him as you can be with me."

"You're our dad," Peter said. "We're allowed to be moody with you."

"Oh, I see." The platform number flashed up next to the train destination. "That's you. You'd better go before you miss it."

"Bye Dad," Pamela said, offering herself for an uncharacteristic hug which he gratefully returned. "See you soon. Thanks for the presents."

"You're welcome," he kissed the top of her head and then turned to his son. "Keep an eye on her on the train."

"Yes..." Peter rolled his eyes, gave him the briefest of hugs and then they were gone, swallowed up with all the other passengers at the station.

He waited until the board indicated that the train had departed and then slowly started to make his way home. It had been a good weekend, a very good weekend, so far as his children went, but he couldn't help but feel slightly down at the prospect of the empty apartment. For a brief moment, he wondered what Evelyn was doing, then he pushed her to the back of his mind. Five days a week was difficult enough without torturing himself at weekends too.

XXXX

"Have you got the ME's report there? Evelyn?...Evelyn?"

"What?" she started slightly and looked across the table at him. "Sorry, I was...yeah, the ME's report..." she rifled through the papers in front of her until she found it and passed it over. "Here."

"Thanks," he took it from her. "Everything ok?"

"Fine," she replied, looking back down at the papers she had in front of her and trying to focus. It had been two days. Two days since she had told her story to Mike and Lennie, a story that had taken the best part of three hours and half a box of Kleenex. But she had done it. It was all out in the open and now, all she could do was wait. It wasn't as if they could go straight round to the apartment and arrest him. They needed to investigate, try and find other corroborating evidence, speak to other potential witnesses...she knew all that and yet, the fact that the information was out there, that Edward would soon know what she had done, made her nervous.

"What did Alice Watkins' neighbour say again about the arguments?" Ben asked, pulling her back to the present.

"Uh..." she looked through the statements, found the one in question and skimmed it quickly. "That they were loud, sounded violent and were more frequent at weekends."

"And the kid screaming?"

"A lot the night before she died. Raised voices, the mother and the boyfriend."

"I thought the mother was supposed to be at work?"

"She was at work the day that Callie was discovered, not the night before," she replied, passing him the statements to look for himself.

Ben glanced between them. "According to the ME's report, it was the trauma to Callie's head that eventually killed her, the other injuries were secondary. And it says here that the rate of bleeding on the brain could have been slow..."

"So...?"

"So what if the blow was struck the night before?"

"What, by the mother?"

"It's possible, isn't it?"

"But what kind of mother would do that and then not seek medical help for her child?" Evelyn asked.

"A mother like Alice Watkins," Ben replied. "The police focused primarily on Thomas Finch, but maybe we should ask them to take a closer look at her."

"Maybe..." Evelyn sighed, "This case..."

"I know."

"As a father, you must find it especially hard."

"I don't think you need to be a parent to be horrified by what some people allow their kids to endure," he met her gaze. "You look as haunted by this as I am."

"Yeah...I guess." She paused, desperate to tell him, to confide in him what she had done. She would have told him without question a few weeks ago. In fact, she would probably have called him the moment she had left the precinct, but now... "Do you want me to call Briscoe and Logan?"

"Have them talk to the mother again," Ben nodded, "and check out her employment too. I don't think we know enough about her."

"Fine," she pushed her chair back. "Oh, by the way. Josh Lieberman has called me three times since yesterday afternoon, each message seemingly more and more urgent."

Ben took off his glasses, "We don't have any cases with him right now, do we?" She shook her head. "Michael Richmond?"

"Maybe a couple of months in prison has made him reconsider his confession."

"Call him, when you get a chance."

XXXX

"So we looked into Alice Watkins' employment," Mike said, flipping through his notebook in Ben's office the following morning. "It purports to be a factory on East 62nd Street..."

"Purports?" Ben said.

"Yeah, it's really a front for a brothel," Lennie said. "Not a particularly high class one at that. The girls work on a rota basis. Today you're on a machine, tomorrow you're on your back, that sort of thing. Anyway, Alice has worked there for five years so, odds are, Callie's father was a john. The day that her daughter died, she was working from 10am to 4pm."

"Which ties in with her saying she returned home at 5pm to find that Finch had put Callie to bed. The 911 call came in at 5.23pm," Mike said.

"Twenty three minutes for her to see that her daughter had been beaten?" Evelyn asked.

"Along with condoms, they also seem to hand out drugs at the factory," Lennie said. "She was probably high, or at least coming down from one."

"What about Alice herself?" Ben asked.

"We tried," Mike said, "but it appears that Ms Watkins has gotten herself represented by counsel and she wasn't prepared to talk to us without her being present."

"Her?"

"Yeah...a Ms Melnick."

"Oh great," Ben said, looking up at Evelyn. "I suppose you'd better call her and ask her to bring her client in."

"Unless you need us for anything else...?" Lennie said, getting to his feet.

"No, that's all, thanks," Ben replied.

"Sure. Uh...Evelyn...quick word?"

"Oh...of course..." Evelyn replied. "I'll call Danielle," she said to Ben, following the detectives out of his office and closing the door behind her. Through the window, he could see the three of them talking and though he was no expert on body language, Evelyn started to look more and more nervous. Eventually, Lennie patted her on the shoulder and he and Mike walked away. Evelyn stood, watching them go, then turned and disappeared from view in the direction of her desk.

Leave it alone...professional not personal...

"Easier said than done," he said aloud, then the phone rang and his immediate thoughts were occupied by something else entirely.

XXXX

"I suppose I could bring her in this afternoon," Danielle Melnick said, though her tone indicated it was a less than reasonable request. "But the woman has just lost her daughter."

"All the more reason why she should want to cooperate," Evelyn replied.

"Fine," Danielle replied. "We'll be there at four."

"Thank you..." Evelyn replied, but the buzzing of the dial tone indicated that the other woman had already hung up. Replacing the receiver, she rose and went to get some coffee from the machine. Though the temperature in the office was high, given the seasonably warm weather outside, she felt a coldness stemming from the conversation she'd had with Mike and Lennie.

They were going to speak to Edward that afternoon. Not arrest him, there wasn't really enough for that yet, but just talk to him. Ask him for his version of events. That afternoon, he would know what she had done. That afternoon, he would be even angrier with her than he already was. And he knew her phone number, maybe her address...she took a deep breath and tried to steady her thoughts. If there was one thing Edward wasn't, it was stupid. Trying to hurt her in the middle of an investigation into his own conduct would only play into her hands. But maybe he wouldn't even see it that way.

As she made her way back to her desk, Ben came out of his office, his head down, his hands thrust into his pockets and, almost immediately, she could tell that something was wrong. He looked up as he approached and shook his head at her.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

"I just had Josh Lieberman on the phone," Ben said. "Michael Richmond hung himself."

Chapter Text

"So," Danielle Melnick said, settling back in her chair and eying Ben mistrustfully. "Do you want to explain why you've dragged my client all the way down here to your office when she's grieving the loss of her only child?"

Evelyn looked at Alice Watkins with her permed bottle blonde hair, bright lipstick and blouse cut both low at the top and high at the bottom and couldn't help but think that 'grieving' wasn't exactly the word she would have used to describe the other woman. "Maybe you could explain why your client thinks she needs counsel."

Danielle swivelled her gaze towards her, her eyes flickering up and down, indicating in the strongest possible terms that it hadn't been Evelyn she had been addressing. "There's no law against a private citizen retaining counsel at any time."

"So, you're just on permanent standby?"

"Your client hasn't been honest with us," Ben interrupted. "For example, we know that she doesn't work in a factory."

"She does work in a factory. There's a sign above the door, all the relevant paperwork is filed with the IRS, she has a pay check..."

"We know she's a prostitute."

"Regardless as to whether or not that's true, it has absolutely no bearing on this case."

"Maybe not," Ben conceded, "but it casts doubt on her character and credibility."

Danielle stared at him, "That has to be the most obnoxious, misogynistic thing I think I've ever heard you say, Ben."

"Sue me Danielle. I'm not here to spare your clients blushes! A child is dead..."

"Her child..."

"And I want the truth!"

"What are you getting at?" Alice spoke for the first time, her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "What are you trying to say?"

"The medical examiner report indicates that the fatal blow could have been struck to your daughter far earlier than we previously thought," he said.

Danielle frowned, "How much earlier?"

"Possibly the night before. Now we know that you were...working...the day that you 'found' your daughter injured in her bed but what I want to know, Ms Watkins, is where you were on the preceding evening."

Alice sat forward in her chair, "How can you...you think that I did it?"

Danielle got to her feet, "This meeting is over, come on Alice."

"No, I want to hear this," Alice shrugged her off. "I want to hear him say he thinks I killed my child! I loved Callie! She was everything to me! Do you honestly think that I could have hurt her?!"

"I just want to know where you were," Ben said. "It's hardly a difficult question to answer."

"Well you won't be hearing an answer today," Danielle practically hauled Alice to her feet out of the chair. "If you want to go tossing accusations like that around, you'd better have some good evidence to back it up! Call me if and when you find it. Until then, you get nothing." Before anyone could say anything else, the two women swept out of the office, letting the door slam behind them.

Ben threw his pen down angrily on the table, followed by his glasses, and sat back in the chair looking utterly defeated. Evelyn paused, waiting for him to say something, but when he didn't, she decided to take the bull by the horns, knowing full well that it wasn't the Watkins case causing the stress so obviously plaguing him.

"It's not your fault." He looked over at her and though she knew he was itching to say that he didn't know what she was talking about, his eyes told a different story. "Michael Richmond," she spelt it out for him. "It's not your fault."

He sat looking at her for a long moment, his expression pained, and she felt an inexplicable ache inside. "Isn't it? I should never have accepted the plea."

"You didn't have any choice. Judge Markham was right. You couldn't run a trial trying to prove his innocence when all he wanted to do was accept his guilt."

"He wasn't guilty though, was he?" Ben got to his feet angrily. "You know that as well as I do!"

"Maybe he wasn't guilty of exactly what he accepted in court but he was guilty of something. Something happened between him and Sandra that night, even if it wasn't rape."

"So the punishment for whatever that was should be death?"

"He took his own life, Ben. You don't do that unless you have serious demons to contend with."

"And you don't think those demons might have included spending a large portion of his life in jail for crimes he didn't commit?"

"So what are we supposed to do?" Evelyn said, standing up and crossing the room to stand in front of him. "Second guess every single plea? Should we be investigating whether or not Todd Masters really killed his father? What about that assault from the other week that pled out? Or maybe Mary Fellowes and Patrick Lehrman aren't guilty of anything either."

"That's ridiculous," he looked down at the floor and nudged the carpet with his shoe.

She ducked her head to try and meet his gaze, "No more ridiculous than you blaming yourself for something over which you had no control." He said nothing so, against her better judgement, she reached out and put a hand on his arm. "You need to let this one go."

He froze instantly under her touch and slowly raised his eyes to hers. "Don't be nice to me."

Evelyn paused, surprised by his tone. "Don't be nice to you? Would you rather I called you an asshole and told you it was your fault?"

"Maybe."

"Now who's being ridiculous?"

"No, now who's being smart." He looked at her earnestly. "We agreed."

She withdrew her hand, feeling her cheeks burn, yet again, with embarrassment, not to mention the unfairness of the whole situation. Professional, not personal. "You're right...I'm sorry."

His phone shrilled suddenly, an almost welcome distraction in the tense atmosphere and he answered it, his eyes never leaving hers. "Stone...wait, what?" Instantly, his face changed. "Well...slow down, is she all right? Laura...Laura, is she all right? What happened? What happened? All right...all right, I'm on my way. I'm on my way...yes, I'm coming."

"What is it?" Evelyn asked in alarm, as he slammed the phone back into its cradle.

He looked at her wildly."Pamela's been in a car accident."

"What? Is she all right?"

"I don't know...Laura was hysterical! I couldn't make any sense of what she was saying!" He hurried over to the coat stand. "I need to get up there."

"Of course." She stood somewhat redundantly, unsure what to do or say to help, but thinking about the practical. "I can look after everything here, don't worry."

He reached for his briefcase, "I don't know...I'm not sure when I'll be back..."

"Don't worry, just go." She wanted to reach out to him again, but in the aftermath of the earlier rebuttal, decided against it. "I'm sure she'll be fine." Ben nodded and then hurried out of the room and down the corridor to the elevators. As she watched the doors close over him, Evelyn started inwardly praying. Not for Pamela, a girl she'd never met, but for him.

XXXX

The drive from Manhattan to Hartford was nothing short of the worst drive of his life. Over three hours for a journey that should have taken only two due to heavy traffic and works on the I-95 had done nothing to quell the panic that had set in the minute he had heard about Pamela's accident through Laura's hysterical ramblings. The entire journey he berated himself for not being there, for not living closer, for not having a better relationship with his children. If Pamela was seriously hurt...if she were to die...he dashed his hand across his eyes as he pulled into the hospital car park just before seven-thirty and searched for a space. As hard as it was, he had no wish to let Laura see how he felt. The less ammunition she had, the better.

When he arrived at the children's ward, he found her standing outside one of the rooms talking to a man he didn't recognise. Without an introduction, he had a feeling it was Mark, the new boyfriend, but his ex-wife's romantic liaisons wasn't exactly high on his agenda at that moment. "How is she?" he demanded, forgoing the niceties of a greeting.

"She's fine," Laura replied, her voice calmer than it had been on the phone. "She's fractured her collar bone but apart from that...she was very lucky. The doctor says I can take her home later tonight once they've sorted out some pain medication."

Ben looked through the glass door into the room to see Pamela, lying on the bed, her arm in a sling, looking thoroughly fed up and felt relief flood through him. "What the hell happened?"

"She was riding with Emily and her mom and another driver lost control and ploughed into them. Apparently it all happened in seconds," Laura shook her head. "When I got the call, I honestly thought..." she trailed off and the unidentified man slid his arms comfortingly around her waist. "Oh Ben, this is Mark."

Ben looked at him and nodded, but beyond that he wasn't interested. "Does she know I'm here?"

Laura defiantly met his gaze. "I didn't want to tell her you were coming in case you didn't make it."

"Didn't make it? Why the hell wouldn't I make it?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "past experiences I guess."

"You honestly think I wouldn't come when my daughter is hurt?" Fury burst inside him at her insinuation. "You really think..."

"What am I supposed to think, Ben?" she snapped. "You're hardly ever around. You haven't been, even before we were divorced. Your job has always been more important to you then either me or the kids and that hasn't changed so don't give me a hard time for wondering if you were going to show up! You've seen Pamela, what, twice in the last six months?" She rubbed her hand across one of Mark's thick arms, still around her waist, as she delivered the body blow. "Mark's been more of a father to both her and Peter in the last few months than you've been in the last fifteen years."

To his credit, Mark said nothing, but when Ben looked at him again, he saw agreement in his expression. No doubt Laura had told him lurid stories about their marriage, divorce and the years that followed, stories heavily weighted in her favour. With the way his children could be towards him at times, and now confronted by his ex-wife and her new lover, he suddenly felt very alone. He wanted to shake her, wanted to scream at her, wanted to punch Mark...but he knew he wouldn't do any of those things. It wasn't who he was and yet, he couldn't help but think that maybe it should be.

"Unless you've any objection," he said, keeping his voice as measured as possible. "I'm going to see my daughter." He didn't wait for Laura's reply, instead simply pushing open the door to the room and stepping inside.

Pamela turned towards him and, to his relief, her face lit up. "Dad! You came!"

"Of course I came," he hurried over to the bed, dropped a kiss on her forehead and sat down in the chair beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," she replied, gesturing to her sling. "I broke my collar bone."

"So I heard. Do you remember what happened?"

She shook her head. "I just remember hearing a big bang and being thrown forwards. Mom said another car hit us. I've got a huge bruise on my back, wanna see?"

"No, no it's fine," he said, stopping her as she struggled to sit up. "Just you rest and take it easy." She lay back in the pillows and he reached out to gently stroke her hair. "You're still just my little girl," he said, a lump forming in his throat. "When your mother called..."

"I'm ok Dad," Pamela said. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Oh, I'm never going to stop worrying about you. That's a father's job."

"Mom says I'll still need to go back to school, even if I still have to wear this sling," she looked mournful about it. "Everyone's going to be talking about me."

"Think about what a story you'll have to tell them."

Pamela sighed, "I hope we can still go to LA on Friday. I told Emily I was going and if we have to cancel it'll be such a drag."

He smiled indulgently at her dramatics, but the mentioning of the LA trip only served to remind him that he wasn't a part of that, wasn't really a part of her life at all. Where had things gone so wrong? He could remember the day she was born, bringing her home from the hospital, gently trying to teach Peter not to throw his toys at her...she had been his baby girl and then, suddenly, she wasn't. She would be thirteen on Saturday and he had missed so much of her life.

"Dad?" she raised her head, her expression concerned, "Dad, are you ok?"

Ben realised that his vision had started to blur again and he ran his hand quickly over his eyes. "I'm fine, sweetheart. As long as you're all right, I'm fine."

XXXX

He dialled the number, unconvinced that she would even still be there, unsure if he actually wanted her to be, especially considering the way they had left things, but when she answered, he knew he had done the right thing.

"Evelyn Burns." For a moment, he found he couldn't say anything and there was a static silence on the line. "Hello?"

"It's me."

"Ben..." he could hear the relief in her voice. "Is Pamela all right?"

"She's fine, or rather as well as can be expected. She's got a fractured collar bone and some bruising but apart from that...she's more concerned about possibly not being able to go to LA this weekend for her birthday than anything else. They're going to be discharging her soon."

"That's great. I mean, not that she has a fractured collar bone but..."

"I know. The whole way up here all I could think was the worst case scenario."

"I can only imagine." She paused, "Are you all right?"

"Oh I'm just great," he replied, trying to sound upbeat but hearing for himself the sarcasm in his tone, Laura's words still rankling. "It's...it's not been easy. Laura and I..."

"You don't have to tell me," she said softly.

But he knew that he wanted to, needed to...she was the only person he could confide in. The only person who understood what it was like to have a shitty relationship with someone still so prevalent in your life. Laura's words still hurt, etched in his mind, piecing his heart like he knew she had intended them to, made all the worse by the knowledge that they were true. "I'm not much of a father."

"That's not true," Evelyn said instantly. "You know that's not true. Is that what she said to you?" He didn't say anything. "Ben, it takes two people to make a marriage work and it takes two people to make a marriage fall apart. Neither of you might be the perfect parent but she has no right to lay something like that on you, especially not now. Your daughter was in a car wreck for God's sake! How is that even remotely your fault?"

"I should have been around more," he said. "I should have given them all more of my time. I shouldn't have worked as long hours as I did and...and I should have moved to Connecticut when we separated and been there for both of them..."

"Ben, don't do this to yourself. You can't..." she faltered, clearly trying to think of comforting words to say. "God, I wish I was there to...to shake you, to shake her! You can't think like this, you really can't. You are a good father and...and just because the kids are going through teenage issues right now doesn't mean that, deep down, they don't know that."

He rested his forehead against the Perspex surrounding the phone booth and sighed heavily. "I wish you were here too." She didn't reply, but he could hear her breathing and, even that, was a comfort. The sudden sound of pips on the line indicated that the call was about to come to an end and, digging into his pocket, he found himself bereft of further quarters. "I'm out of money. I have to go."

"Ben..."

Whatever else she might have said was cut off, the droning of the dial tone the only sound in his ear. Slowly he replaced the receiver and stood staring at the phone for a long moment. He couldn't help but admit to himself that he had never felt he needed anyone as much as he felt he needed her right at that moment.

"Professional, not personal, be damned."

XXXX

Evelyn rolled over in bed and looked at the clock for the hundredth time. One-eighteen am. After her phone call with Ben, she had gone home, ate something not particularly edible that she had found in the fridge and then slept for maybe an hour before something had caused her to wake up suddenly. Though she had tried, she hadn't been able to fall back to sleep and so she had lain in the darkness, staring into nothing, replaying the conversation over and over in her head.

Damn his ex-wife. Damn her for saying that to him. Damn her for making him feel like he had failed as a father. She didn't even know the woman and yet she felt a vitriol towards her that she hadn't felt for anyone, even Edward. Eventually, her mind too active to sleep, she climbed out of bed and headed for the kitchen, intending to make herself some warm milk. She had just started to boil the pan when the buzzer went and she instantly knew it would be him.

Racing over to the door, she grabbed the receiver. "Ben?"

There was a silence at the other end of the line, "How did you...?"

"Come up," she pressed the button and heard the security door click, then she opened her apartment door, blinking in the bright light from the hallway, and waited. She could hear his footsteps on the stairs and they sounded tired and heavy. When he came into view, she was shocked at just how exhausted he looked. He was pale, his eyes were slightly bloodshot and his suit was rumpled. "You look like hell. Come inside." He smiled wanly at her and didn't protest this time when she touched him. Reaching for his hand, she guided him inside to the living room and over to the couch. "I was just about to make some warm milk, do you want some? Or maybe something stronger?"

He sat down heavily, "No, milk's fine. I'm...I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour."

"Don't be silly, it's fine," she turned back to the kitchen. "I was awake anyway." The pan started to bubble and, after adding a good dose of sugar, she killed the heat and poured the steaming liquid into two mugs. When she arrived back in the living room, he had discarded his jacket to one side and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. "Here," she passed him a mug. "Be careful, it's hot."

Ben took it from her and looked into the milky depths. "I used to make this for Peter. When the kids started staying with me after the divorce, he found it hard to sleep in another strange bed. I used to wake up and find him standing beside the bed just...looking at me. He'd tell me he couldn't sleep so I'd make him some warm milk and we'd sit at the table while he drank it and then he'd go back to bed until morning." He looked at her wistfully, "I miss those days."

Evelyn paused. She felt privileged in one sense that he was sharing the memory with her, but she also felt pained, because it seemed to hurt him so much. "I didn't think you'd come all the way back down tonight. I thought you might have stayed in Hartford."

Ben took a drink and then placed the mug down on the coffee table. "There was no point staying where I wasn't wanted. If they had kept Pamela in hospital, maybe. But Mark was there to take her and Laura home."

"Mark?"

"The new boyfriend. Not the first one and, if I know my ex-wife, not the last one. I'm not jealous," he said, looking over at her again, "Not about his relationship with Laura, anyway." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "What time is it?"

"One-thirty."

He laughed and shook his head. "I came here because...because I wanted to make love to you and now...now I don't think I can." He started to stand up, swaying slightly as he did so. "I should go."

"No..." she hurried over and put her arm around his waist. "You're exhausted, Ben. You're in no fit state to drive anywhere else tonight. I want you to stay here."

He looked down at her, "With you?"

She nodded, "With me. Come on." Gently, as though he were a child, or drunk, she led him into the bedroom, the bedclothes still rumpled from how she had left them. He said nothing as she undressed him, coaxing him to sit down so that she could bend and remove his pants, socks and shoes. It was only when she straightened up that his hands went to her waist, pulling her in between his legs, his head resting against her breasts. For a moment, she just stood there, feeling his breath through the flimsy nightdress she had chosen to wear, every nerve in her body deliciously jangling at how easy it would be to just take the next step.

"I want you," he murmured.

"I want you too," she whispered, as he lifted his head and looked up at her. "But not like this." She bent and kissed him gently, then encouraged him to lie down and pulled the duvet up around him. "I'll see you in the morning," she promised, but he was already asleep.

Chapter Text

Morning found Ben with a feeling not unlike a hangover, not that he could really remember the last time he had had one. His head felt fuzzy, his mouth dry and when he rolled over in bed and opened his eyes he felt disorientated. The first thing he noticed was a long black dress hanging over the door of the closet next to the bed and as he blinked to adjust his gaze, he saw that the room itself was completely unfamiliar. For a moment he lay there, suspended in a kind of frozen fear at what the hell had happened, then he heard the sound of dishes rattling and the murmur of voices and it all came flooding back to him.

Sitting up, he realised that he was naked save for his underpants and that his clothes were neatly folded on the chair opposite. He remembered her leading him into the bedroom and undressing him and he remembered touching her, telling her that he wanted her and her saying she wanted him too...

When he opened the bedroom door, now fully dressed, he saw Evelyn standing at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand, leafing through the paper while the radio hummed in the background. She looked up and smiled slowly and he immediately felt a slight sense of embarrassment.

"You should have woken me," he said by way of greeting. "It must be late."

"It's only just past seven," she replied. "Besides, I thought you needed the rest. Coffee?" He nodded his acceptance and she poured another cup and handed it to him. "I was going to leave you a note."

He drank half the cup of hot liquid in one go, feeling it spread instantly to his extremities and shook his head. "I need to get home and change anyway."

"You're not going to work."

"Of course I am."

"Ben..."she looked at him reproachfully. "You had a terrible day yesterday not to mention an excessively long drive and you didn't get to bed until the early hours. I'm sure nobody would mind if you took the day off."

"There's too much to do."

"Like what?"

"Like...I want to go through all of Callie Watkins' medical records, see if there's anything that points towards any historic abuse, not to mention we have four homicide arraignments and I have a telephone consultation with Arthur Gold at two."

"All of which I could handle."

He shook his head, "No."

"Sometimes I don't think you give me enough credit." She put her hand on her hip and he couldn't help admiring how the suit she was wearing hugged her in all the right places.

"Thank you for your concern."

"Misplaced as it is, right?"

He crossed the space between them so that he was in front of her, looking down, her eyes wide and warm looking back at him. "It's nice having someone who cares."

"God help me, but I do."

He wanted to kiss her, was desperate to kiss her and yet knew it wouldn't end there, so he settled for gently brushing her hair back from her face, feeling her tremble slightly under his touch. "I should apologise."

"For what?"

"For turning up here last night uninvited. It was good of you to let me stay."

"You've already said sorry besides, I was hardly going to turn you away, was I?"

"You should have."

She frowned, "Why?"

"Letting strange men into your apartment late at night..." he tutted, "what will your neighbours think?"

"Unlike some people not a million miles away from here, right now I don't really care about anyone's perception of me." She moved closer to him in an exaggeration of confidence. "Imagine what they would say if they knew that you had been in my bed too."

"Forgive me for wishing I hadn't been there alone."

"Well I thought it might freak you out completely if you'd woken, not only in a strange bed, but with me next to you. Though I have to say, my couch isn't the best for sleeping on."

"I meant what I said last night," he grew suddenly serious, painfully aware of how close they were, the heat and electricity from her body affecting his crotch more than was appropriate at that moment.

"I know. It's very flattering having a man show up at your apartment and tell you he wants to make love to you. Almost as flattering as him telling you he wants to make love to you on his desk," she smiled. "I'm pretty sure I know where the most comfortable place would be though."

"Have dinner with me tonight," he said, trying to clear his mind of a thousand images and failing miserably.

"Professional or personal?"

"Personal."

"Like...a date?" He nodded. "My, my, tongues will wag around the DA's office if this gets out. The inimitable Ben Stone going on a date with his assistant..." she moved away from him, eyebrows raised teasingly. "How will you handle the scandal?"

Completely without thinking, he reached out and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly into him, her eyes widening slightly at the feel of how much he wanted her. "Is that a yes?" he asked quietly.

"Of course it's a yes," she replied, slightly breathlessly.

"Good." He paused, still holding onto her, liking how she felt, pressed against him. One kiss, one quick kiss. He could still be in the office by eight. What harm could it possibly do?

XXXX

She couldn't remember the last time she had ripped a man's clothes off.

Prior to Edward, she had had only one other partner, her college boyfriend Steve. He had been a nice guy, if a little boring and the sex, the first for both of them, hadn't exactly been earth shattering. Perhaps that was part of what had attracted her to her husband in the first place. Dashing, charismatic, sexy...even then though, he had always been the one in charge of their intimacy. She had wanted him at the time, been eager for his touch, but he decided when and where, how long and whether or not she got anything out of it. Latterly, of course, he had used it as a way to hurt her, experiences she had recounted to Mike and Lennie almost as though she had been talking about somebody else.

So this felt...good.

When Ben had pulled her body against his, she had felt his arousal and it had surprised her. It was one thing to say you wanted another person, but words were cheap. The body didn't lie, however, and hers had responded accordingly. She knew he had only meant to kiss her and then go, but a brief meeting of lips had then moved to a deeper kiss and then another and another and, before she had had time to process what was about to happen, they had started their dance towards the bedroom.

He pulled off her suit jacket at the same time as she was fumbling with the buttons she had unhooked the night before. Her top came over her head as she was battling with his zipper, each move punctuated by heavy breathing and the sound of lips on skin. He pressed her up against the bedroom door, his mouth moving down her neck, across her collar and lower, pulling the straps of her bra sharply downwards as she fumbled with the clasp and wriggled her hips so that he could pull her skirt off. She heard her pantyhose rip and he paused and looked up at her.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't give a fuck," she replied, pulling him back up and towards the bed. She fell backwards onto the still warm bedclothes and he climbed on after her, his mouth going to her breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple and then biting down. "Oh Jesus..."

Instantly, he pulled up. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, keep going..."

She wasn't sure how long it took, but he made his way down from her breasts, down her stomach and gently kissed the inside of her thighs, before dipping his head lower. She jumped, startled by the feeling, but this time he didn't apologise and all she could do was lie there and listen to the sound of her own staccato breathing as he slid his tongue around her. This was not what she had been expecting from him. Wasn't it odd how, sometimes, the ones that seemed so restrained could be the ones who had the most hidden passion? The thought tickled her and she laughed before realising.

He slid back up her body and kissed her neck, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she replied reaching for him, only for him to bat her away.

"Leave it."

"What? Why?"

He raised himself up on one elbow and looked at her, "Ladies first."

She was about to ask him what he meant when she felt his hand splayed across her stomach, then moving lower, then a finger inside her whilst another one gently encircled where his tongue had been. She felt herself convulse involuntarily and he kissed her briefly before simply continuing to look at her. It felt slightly odd, almost as though she was under some sort of sexual microscope. But there was no malice in his expression, only what appeared to be genuine concern for her, along with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Are you just going to watch me?" she gasped and, though he might have answered, she didn't hear it. Suddenly it felt as though she was about to fall over the edge of a cliff. She could feel it building inside, getting stronger and stronger the quicker that he moved and then it happened and she fell over the edge, her body jerking wildly, sounds that she had never before heard herself make tearing from her throat and his mouth was against her ear and he was saying things and she didn't know what they were.

She basked in it, in the first orgasm she had had in a long time and it went on and on until she was half laughing, half crying and had almost no breath left. It was the most wonderful thing she had experienced in years, perhaps ever, and as she slowly started to bring herself back under control, he shifted on the bed beside her and settled himself between her legs.

"Is it all right?" he asked, and through the sweat of her own release she saw mixed in his expression, concern and naked desire. Would he stop if she said no, even though she had no intention of refusing him?

"God, yes," she replied, pulling him down onto her, feeling him stretch and then slide into her sticky wetness, his body shuddering slightly before falling into an intoxicating rhythm. She held onto him, pulling him deeper inside her, encouraging him, wanting him to feel the same things she had felt.

It didn't take long. He started to spasm, then thrust more quickly and then she felt him unload inside her, grinding against her, moaning into her neck, and she held him until he was spent and breathless and capable only of planting sweaty kisses on her body. "I'm sorry."

"Are you kidding, for what?"

"You know..." he lifted his head and met her gaze. "It's...been a long time and...I intended to make love to you not..."

"Ben," she cupped his face with her hand. "I've never told you to shut up before, but I'm telling you now; shut up." Stretching upwards, she kissed him gently, only to catch sight of the clock. "Shit, the time..."As she made to roll away from him off of the bed, she felt his arm slide around her, pulling her back against him, suddenly reminding her of what she had told him about Edward never holding her. The fact that he even remembered was enough to make her feel emotional. "We're going to be so late."

"Speak for yourself," he murmured into her hair. "I'm taking the day off."

XXXX

"Evelyn Burns."

Ben smiled at the sound of her voice. "Working hard, I trust?"

"Just back from court. Two hundred thousand dollars bail on both Newton and Ferelli, Gregory and Austin were both remanded to Rikers. Not without some major tap dancing by Gary Lowenthal, I may add." She paused. "That is why you're calling, right?"

"Yes," he admitted. "But it's nice to hear your voice."

She laughed, "So what are you doing with your day off, and please don't say catching up on law journals."

"Of course not," he replied glancing down at the latest edition of Columbia Law Review lying open in front of him. "Well, maybe just a few."

"When was the last time you had a day off?" she demanded. "In fact, I bet you can't even remember. You should be doing something relaxing like...walking in the park or reading that novel you've always been meaning to start or...I don't know...not reading law journals!"

"Well, I have been thinking about how good you'll look in that dress that I saw hanging in your bedroom earlier. I'm guessing it's for the mayor's dinner tomorrow."

"Maybe," she teased. "I'm looking forward to seeing you in your tux. I keep meaning to ask where the dinner is. I don't want to hail a cab and then not know where to tell the driver to take me."

"It's at the Algonquin. But don't worry about a cab, Adam always gets us a car straight from the office." There was a silence at the other end of the line. "You still there?"

"Uh...yeah..." she said finally. "Sure. Look, I should go. I've got that call with Arthur Gold in ten minutes and I don't want to piss the man off any more than I have to."

"Great, and make sure he tells you everything," Ben stressed. "Don't let him slither his way around the facts. We want to know exactly what Patrick Lehrman is going to give us, ok? Evelyn?"

"Yes," she said, "yes, sure. I...I'd better go."

"Well I'll..." his words were cut off by the sound of the dial tone indicating that she had already hung up. Slowly he replaced the receiver, wondering if he had imagined the change in her voice after her mentioned the hotel, only to be distracted by it ringing again and his daughter's cheerful voice telling him that she was going to LA after all.

XXXX

Evelyn sat on the closed toilet seat and let out a long, shaky breath. It was funny how the mere mention of a place could cause a reaction within a person, even years after the event. How silly of her not to have enquired as to the location of the dinner before now and yet, how ridiculous that the name of the hotel could still make her feel so bad. It had been one night, ten years ago and, in the grand scheme of things, not the worse night she had ever spent with Edward, but it certainly ranked as one of the most humiliating. She had always gone out of her way to avoid the place and now, now she was set to attend a black tie event there. Talk about throwing yourself in at the deep end.

Flushing for effect, she stepped out of the stall and washed her hands, smiling briefly at the two other women performing their own toilette, before making her way back along the corridor to her cubicle and checking the time. She still had seven minutes before she was due to speak to Arthur Gold, so she picked up the phone and quickly dialled Veronica's office.

"No, I haven't heard anything," the other woman said when Evelyn asked if she had heard anything from Edward's lawyer, "and I sent a reminder fax yesterday. He's stalling, like I told you he would."

"I think we need to talk," Evelyn said. "Can I come in and see you next week?"

"Of course," Veronica replied. "I could slot you in next Tuesday around 4.30pm?"

"Perfect, thanks." Hanging up, she quickly searched her rolodex for Dr Olivet's number and placed a call to her secretary asking for an appointment.

"Dr Olivet is particularly busy next week..." the secretary said.

"I'd be grateful for anything," Evelyn said.

"Wednesday at 6pm?"

"Fine, thank you." She replaced the receiver and looked at it for a long moment. She had to tell Veronica about what Edward had told her regarding his money and her real reasons for leaving him, especially now that the police were involved. As for speaking to Olivet...

The phone rang suddenly, jerking her back into the present moment and she hoped that it wasn't Ben calling again. "Evelyn Burns."

"Mrs Burns," Gold's voice came down the line sounding less than impressed. "I've just been informed that Ben is having a day off and that I've to discuss the Lerhman case with you?"

"Yes Mr Gold," she said, slipping back into business mode. "I think we have a lot to discuss, don't you?"

XXXX

Ben could never have claimed to be a master at understanding the female psyche, especially given that it was his complete inability to see how unhappy Laura had been that had partly led to the breakdown of his marriage, but something had definitely changed in Evelyn since she had left him in bed that morning. If her attitude on the phone hadn't convinced of him that, then her distraction at dinner had confirmed it and now, here they were, back at her apartment and far from falling into bed together, she was pottering around the kitchen under the pretence of making coffee but, in reality, achieving little.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"No," she replied quickly.

Rising from the couch, he wandered over to where she was standing staring at the coffee machine. "Evelyn..." she didn't reply. "Have...have I done something wrong?"

"What?" she turned to look at him, her cheeks stained with tears.

"What is it?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

"It's nothing..."

"You're crying." He took her arms and turned her to face him again. "Evelyn...please...if I've done something..."

"Jesus, it's not about you! Why do you always have to be so fucking apologetic?!" She moved away from him back into the living room and sank down into the couch, her head in her hands. He waited for a few minutes, wondering if he should just leave, when she eventually raised her head and looked at him again. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

He crossed the room in a few steps and crouched on the floor in front of her, taking her hands in his and kissing them. "Please tell me what's wrong." Her eyes watered again and more tears spilled down her cheeks. "Please."

"The...the hotel," she stuttered.

"What hotel?" he asked, confused. "The one tomorrow night? The Algonquin?" She shuddered and nodded silently. "What about it?"

"I...Edward..." she swallowed hard and took a breath. "It's...it's so stupid...we...went to a party there...Christmas Eve...I had too much to drink and he...he was angry..."

"He hit you?"

She shook her head. "He r...raped...he raped me there..."

Ben watched, horrified, as she dissolved in front of him, hysterically sobbing the likes of which he didn't think he had ever seen. All he could do was pull her up and into his arms, crush her to him and tell her that it was all right, all the time wishing he could get his hands on Edward. He had never considered himself a violent person but for Burns he knew he could make an exception.

Eventually, her cries lessened, her body slowed and she lifted her face from his chest to meet his gaze. "I told the police."

"Told them what?"

"Everything. I told them everything."

He stared at her, "When?"

"Last weekend. I just...went to the 2-7 and told Briscoe and Logan...all of it." She looked at him earnestly. "Please...please Ben, don't be angry with me. I wanted to tell you but...but we were just being professional and..."

"How could I be angry with you?" he said, "I'm falling in love you." The moment he said the words, he almost wished he could take them back. She stood, looking silently up at him, eyes wide, tears dripping off the end of her chin and he feared he had made a huge mistake. "I'm..."

"No..." she put her fingers against his lips. "Don't be sorry, Ben."

So he took her to bed and made love to her, just as he had wanted to.

Chapter Text

"So what did Arthur Gold say?"

"That Lehrman was prepared to be deposed next week."

"But is he going to name names?" Adam asked. "And if so, who is he going to name?"

"We don't know that yet, he wouldn't tell her."

"Wouldn't tell her...what is this, a guessing game?"

Ben sighed before replying. No, it wasn't ideal that Gold's call to Evelyn had been circumspect at best and yes, perhaps if he had taken it himself he would have been able to get more out of the man, but he couldn't help but think that Lehrman had most likely been the last thing on her mind during the call. "Of course it's a game, Adam, you know Gold. I'll be doing the deposition myself anyway. I'll get the names."

"Unless you sit down with him and Lehrman suddenly realises that he can't remember any names."

"If he does that then his deal is worthless."

"He's already serving a reduced sentence!"

"Which we can vacate if we have to. We take him back to court, re-try him..."

"Re-try him..." Adam laughed. "Good luck with that."

"With Mary Fellowes on the stand again and Porter and Haywood likely to want to stick the knife in, we'd be able to get him for the maximum, no problem."

"I admire your faith," Adam said. "Don't Porter and Haywood have their appeal hearings next week?"

"Friday," Ben nodded."

"Uh-huh. Don't you think that Gold's timing is interesting?"

"How would the two be connected? Whether or not Lehrman names names in the Lucchese family can't have any bearing in the appeal."

"You'd be surprised," Adam said, as there was a knock at his door. "Come in."

Evelyn stepped inside, glancing between the two of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but the car's here."

"Oh good," Adam said, getting to his feet. "Here was me hoping that the driver would have taken suddenly ill and we could all have just gone home. You look lovely, my dear. It's nice to have some beautiful female company at one of these things for once. No offence intended, Ben."

"None taken," Ben replied, his eyes on the object of Adam's admiration. He was right, she did look lovely. The dress was long and tight, hitting all the right places, her hair was softly curled and whatever make up she had chosen to use certainly highlighted the blue of her eyes. But beneath all that, he could see that she was uneasy.

Adam led the way down the corridor toward the elevator with he and Evelyn bringing up the rear and, when he was sure nobody would see, he briefly reached out and took her hand. She started slightly as he squeezed and then let go, but at least managed a small smile in response. He wanted to put his arm around her, to pull her to him and whisper to her that everything would be all right, but he was reminded of what she had said the previous night, lying in his arms.

"We should probably just keep this between us, right? I mean, what with everything that's going on..."

He had agreed, primarily because he had been thinking along the same lines himself but had been wary of raising it, lest she accuse him of being more concerned with how he was perceived than with her. It was the right decision, he knew that, but at moments like this, it felt unbearably restrictive.

There was plenty of room in the elevator, but she stood closer to him than was strictly necessary, the electric hum of her nerves almost audible above Adam's chatter about the evening ahead and, when the other man turned to hit the button, he dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. As the elevator doors opened, they moved apart, to the outside world, simply colleagues.

XXXX

The hotel had changed since that Christmas Eve in 1982. The decor was different and she was pretty sure the reception desk had been at the other side of the lobby back then, but it was hardly unreasonable that the place had been refurbished in almost eleven years. The unfamiliarity was somewhat comforting, as was the realisation that the dinner was taking place in the large function suite on the ground floor as opposed to the penthouse. Even looking at the elevators gave her a funny feeling in her stomach.

The lobby was thronged with people, some she recognised but many that she didn't. Somewhere in the melee, she lost sight of Ben and Adam and stood, momentarily lost, until a waiter presented her with a glass of champagne. She was halfway through drinking it when she heard someone call her name and, turning, saw Josh Lieberman pushing his way through the crowd towards her.

"Josh," she said, surprised to see him. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Nor I you," he remarked. "I thought you might be keeping a low profile."

"Why? It's not as if our office had anything to do with it."

He frowned at her, "Anything to do with what?"

"With your client taking his own life."

"Oh, that..." his face cleared. "No, I know...I still can't quite believe he did it but...anyway...no, I meant about Edward."

Evelyn paused, her glass halfway to her mouth. "What about Edward?"

"You're kidding, right? He called me straight after the police left, ranting and raving down the phone...I thought he'd lost his mind. He's absolutely furious at, what he claims are, your 'fucking lies.' I mean, I know divorces can get messy, Evelyn, but I wouldn't have thought that you would do something like that."

"Something like what?" she demanded angrily. "Since when is telling the truth considered a bad thing?"

Josh stared at her. "You mean that...it's true? All of it?"

"Yes, it's all true, Josh. He beat me, he raped me, he made my life hell for fifteen years and I don't see why he should be allowed to get away with it," she said triumphantly. "Do you?"

"Uh...well..." he stuttered, his face turning red, clearly not having expected her reaction. "I mean, I didn't think..."

"You thought I was lying. How very fucking typical." She took another glass from a passing waiter, ignoring the voice in her head that told her to stop. "Well, next time you talk to him you can tell him that I told him to go fuck himself."

Josh glanced around. "I maybe wouldn't say that too loudly."

"Really? Why not?"

"Well unless the District Attorney's table is half a mile away from Burns & Co it might make for a rather unpleasant evening."

Evelyn froze. "He's here?"

"Of course he's here. The biggest firm in Brooklyn? Dinkins would have been an idiot not to invite them, especially if he doesn't want to get unseated by Guliani in November..."

His voice was lost in the background noise as she cast her gaze around wildly looking, not only for her husband, but for Ben. She needed him. Needed his calm reassurance, the warmth of him next to her...though it was mid-summer and the air conditioning was blasting, she suddenly felt chilled to the bone. Moments later, she saw Ben talking to Jack and Claire and, leaving Josh mid-sentence, she quickly hurried towards them.

"Evening Evelyn," Jack greeted her. "You're looking lovely."

"Thank you," she replied, shakily accepting his kiss to her cheek. "So are you...I mean...you look very handsome."

"That's very kind. Ben and I were just saying that we're two very lucky sons-of-bitches to have some beautiful assistants in tow tonight. I'm pretty sure I can safely say that you and Claire have definitely raised the bar."

"I love your dress," Claire said. "It really suits you."

"Thanks," Evelyn said. "Yours too..." She swivelled her eyes to Ben. "Can...can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course, excuse us," he said, following her over towards the canapé table. "Jack's right," he said appreciatively, clearly believing she was in need of some confidence boosting. "You are definitely the most beautiful..."

"Edward's here."

His face darkened. "Where?"

"I don't know, I just know that he's here and...and I ran into Josh Lieberman and he told me that Edward's furious that I went to the police and..."

"Calm down," he said softly, moving closer to her.

"How can I calm down?" she replied anxiously, feeling herself start to hyperventilate. "He's here and he knows and..."

"You're in a public place, surrounded by people..."

"I've been in that situation before, Ben, it didn't stop him."

"And I'm here," he said, leaning into her, pressing himself as much against her as he possibly could without it looking too suspicious. "I promise you that I am not going to let him hurt you. Look at me..." She looked up into his eyes. "It's going to be all right, sweetheart, I promise."

Sweetheart...she hadn't been called that in a romantic sense in years. It sounded nice coming from him...genuine...but though she knew that he believed what he was saying, she also knew Edward, knew what he was capable of, and if it came down to it...she knew also knew who would win. "You meant what you said before." It was a statement, not a question.

He nodded. "With every part of me."

She wanted desperately to throw her arms around him, to kiss him, to have him make love to her right there in the lobby, anything to feel warm...to feel safe...

At that moment, the sound of a gong clattered into the room and the chatter around them came to an abrupt halt as dinner was called. They turned for the door into the function suite and she felt the warmth of his hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her inside. The room was vast with at least thirty round tables dotted around and waiters directing diners to the correct one. The office had three tables towards the left hand side of the room and when they reached one, Evelyn saw that she had been placed between Adam and Jack with Claire on Adam's other side and then Ben beside her. A further five ADA's made up the remainder of the table and everyone exchanged pleasantries as the room filled up.

"No expense spared," Adam joked, gesturing to the copious bottles of wine adorning the table as she sat down beside him.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she replied, as lightly as she could.

"Pity I'm a married man," he replied indulgently. "Red or white?"

She was about to answer when she saw him. His table was further round the room towards the other side and there were hundreds of people still milling around between them, but there was no mistaking him. Nor was there any mistaking the look her gave her as he took his seat directly in her eye line.

XXXX

She had barely touched her food, her gaze constantly lifting to something he couldn't see over his shoulder, until he half turned in his chair to retrieve his dropped napkin and saw Edward at a table across the room. He was looking directly at Evelyn, his expression fairly neutral but his gaze hard and intense. When Ben looked back, she had dropped her gaze to her plate but he could tell that she was shaking.

"So what are you going to do?" Claire asked, continuing the conversation they had been having about the death of Michael Richmond.

"Uh...well, there's nothing we really can do, I suppose," he replied. "As has been pointed out to me on numerous occasions, the man pled guilty and was sentenced accordingly."

"But you think there's more to it."

"You were there, don't you?"

"Absolutely," she said. "But whilst it's tragic that he felt he had to end his life over it...maybe there was more to it than we know."

"Maybe," he looked over as Evelyn drained her wine glass and accepted Adam pouring her some more. He wanted to tell her to slow down, but every time he caught her gaze, she flitted back to looking either at Edward or down at her plate again.

"Claire," she said suddenly, leaning slightly across the table. "Do you know where the restrooms are?"

"Uh, no, but I'll come and help you find them," Claire replied, getting to her feet.

The two women disappeared, threading their way between the tables towards the entrance to the suite and though he was desperate to follow, Ben rooted himself to his seat.

"So..." Jack leaned over towards him, "How is it working with the lovely Mrs Burns?"

"Fine," he replied.

"Just fine?"

"Uh...well, she's a good attorney if that's what you mean."

"It wasn't, but I guess it's as much as I'll get out of you," Jack replied, winking as he did so.

"Dinkins will be making his speech soon," Adam said, pouring more wine for Jack and then holding the bottle out towards Ben. "My advice, fill your glasses as high as you can. You'll need it."

XXXX

"I've never been to a function this size before, not even at law school," Claire said, fixing her lipstick in the mirror. "I mean there must be, what, four hundred...five hundred people here?"

"At least," Evelyn replied as two women lifted some of the complimentary toiletries from the basket and another lounged on the velvet chaise longue in the corner, rubbing her feet.

"And I don't even know half of them from our office."

"Me neither."

Claire turned her back on the bank of mirrors and leaned back against the sink as Evelyn combed her hair. "So...are you going to tell me?"

Evelyn paused, "Tell you what?"

"Oh come on!" the younger woman grinned, the effects of the alcohol she had consumed clearly lowering any inhibitions she might otherwise have had. "There has been tension at our table ever since we sat down and it certainly hasn't been due to Adam and his lousy jokes. You can tell me, you know. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"There's nothing to tell," she laughed lightly.

"Not even a little something?"

"Nothing."

"Urgh...Evelyn, you disappoint me," Claire said dramatically, as the sound of raucous applause reached them. "The mayor must be about to give his speech."

"On you go. I think I could use some air," Evelyn said, knowing she couldn't sit in Edward's eye line for much longer.

"Are you sure?" Claire frowned. "What am I going to tell Ben?"

"You don't have to tell Ben anything," she replied sharply. "I'm allowed to get some air without my boss giving me permission, aren't I?"

"Of course...if you're sure?"

"I'm sure. Go."

She waited until the other woman had left and she was alone before letting out a shaky breath. It had been such a huge mistake coming to the dinner. He had known, must of known, that she would be here and was no doubt revelling in the fact that he was intimidating her. All the times since walking out that she had answered him back, told him where to go, tried to show him that she wasn't afraid...it was all for nothing. The best thing she could do now, was slip away while everyone else was being entertained and catch a cab home. She would apologise to Adam on Monday, say that the wine had given her a sudden headache. Ben...well she would have to think about what to say to him. He would be hurt if she just vanished but somehow, dragging him into it didn't seem fair either.

Taking a breath, she took a final look at herself in the mirror, lifted her bag and headed for the door. As she pulled it open and made to step out, someone body slammed her from the other side, knocking her backwards into the wall of the stalls. She dropped her bag, the contents spilling out onto the tiled floor and, when she looked up, his face was inches from hers.

"You stupid bitch."

XXXX

"...No, no seriously...I'd like to thank each and every one of you for all of your support over the last nine months. It's not been easy, but I think this city is still one of the greatest in the world and that's because of people like you, believing in us, supporting us..."

Ben looked over once again at the closed door as the mayor rattled on and on. It had been a good few minutes since Claire had returned alone from the ladies room and told him that Evelyn had decided to take some air. He had been poised to go out after her, but the mayor had quickly gotten to his feet and he knew it would be noticed if he left. So he waited.

"How much longer...?" Jack groaned softly from across the table. "I feel like I'm drowning in misplaced gratitude."

"He's a master at this," Adam replied. "That's why he's won so many terms in office."

"He's a sycophant."

"Exactly."

The speech started to draw to a close, toasts were offered and applause sounded as the room gave the mayor a relieved standing ovation. It was only then Ben noticed that Edward's seat was empty.

XXXX

"Eddie..."

"What the fuck did you think you were doing? The police? Really?" He reeked of alcohol and expensive cigars. His eyes were bloodshot and there was a smear of lipstick on the collar of his white shirt. His whole being filled her vision, blocking her access to the door, making her feel as though she could barely breathe. "Did you think you were being fucking smart? Did you think it would help you in the divorce?"

Evelyn swallowed hard against the fear that was threatening to choke her. This was what he wanted. He wanted her to be afraid. He wanted her to apologise. He wanted her to say she would take it all back. He wanted the power.

"He only has as much power as you give him," Olivet had said to her during one of her sessions. "You give it and you can take it back."

"I did it..." she said, her voice shaking. "I did it because I spent fifteen years of my life being abused by you and I didn't think I should keep quiet about it anymore." He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised at her words. "I didn't think that I should be afraid of you anymore. I'm not afraid of you, Eddie. You can hit me, you can rape me, you can throw me down the stairs if you want to, but I am not going to be afraid of you anymore...!"

He lashed out suddenly, backhanding her across the face, the signet ring he always wore cutting the skin under her eye. She fell to the floor at his feet and he instantly reached down and hauled her up by her arms, slamming her back against the wall.

"You're my wife," he spat. "You do what I say! Now, you're going to go back to the cops and you're going to tell them that you made it all up, Evelyn, or I swear to God..."

"Fuck you!" she snarled at him. "I don't have to do a Goddamn thing..." His hand went to her throat, squeezing tightly, cutting off her air supply. Furiously, she clawed at him with her nails and tried to kick him, but whatever he had consumed that night had made him stronger than she ever remembered and, for the first time, she thought he might kill her.

Just as things were starting to get hazy, he released his grip and threw her across the room onto the floor. She lay there, lungs burning, coughing, choking, tears running down her face as he came towards her. She knew the playbook. He wanted her to beg, to plead for him to stop...well she wouldn't, not this time. His arms went around her waist, lifting her up like a rag doll and dragging her over to the chaise-longue.

"No..." she said, making barely any sound. "No...don't..." He threw her, face down, and pressed her into it with one hand so that she could barely breathe while the other started yanking at her dress. Oh Jesus...her brain screamed, knowing what was coming and yet also knowing that she couldn't let him do it, not again. She was stronger than this, stronger than him...she had to be. As he fumbled drunkenly, she raised one leg as much as she could and kicked back, hard, catching him in just the right place. Immediately he howled, his grip on her slackening enough for her to push herself up and off of the chaise-longue. As she made to run past him towards the door, however, his hand snaked out and caught her by the hair. This time, however, she was able to scream, loudly, as he pulled her round and down onto the floor.

"Bitch!" He yelled, rolling her roughly onto her back and getting astride her.

Evelyn screamed again and then...suddenly...she felt Edward being pulled away from her and there was loud shouting and a female voice, she would later learn belonged to Claire, yelling, "Jack, don't!"

And then...Ben was there, lifting her up into his arms, carrying her out of the restroom into a melee of people and apologising, over and over again.

Chapter Text

"Docket number 68931. People versus Edward Alexander Burns. Charges are attempted rape in the first degree and assault in the second degree."

Ben slid into the back of the courtroom as Edward made his way up to the table. He had pulled every string he could to make sure the other man sat in central booking for the entire weekend rather than being arraigned that night or the following morning so, dressed as he was, still in his tuxedo, Edward looked more like a down and out than a member of the bar, emphasised by the shiner to his eye, a present from Jack.

When he had realised that both Evelyn and Edward were absent during the mayor's speech, he had instantly known something was wrong and had raced for the door, followed by a slightly bemused Jack and a worried Claire. Once in the lobby, they had heard a scream coming from the direction of the ladies restroom and, upon investigation, had found Edward on top of his wife on the floor. He shuddered at the memory...Jack pulling Edward off and instinctively punching him, Claire screaming at him to stop, Evelyn lying on the ground trembling...her face cut...

Judge Schreiber looked over his glasses. If he recognised Edward, he gave no indication of it. "How does the defendant plead?"

"Not guilty."

"People on bail?"

Ben turned his attention to Frank Lake, a junior member of the office but a competent ADA in his own right. Adam had refused to allow Jack, Claire or Ben to conduct the arraignment, saying that it would better handled by someone who hadn't been at the dinner. Although he hadn't agreed with him, Ben knew better than to argue about it. Besides, there was still the matter of a grand jury and a trial to come, not just for this but for all the allegations.

"Given the savage nature of the attack and the fact that it happened in a public place, the people feel that the defendant should be held without bail," Frank said.

"That's ridiculous," Edward's attorney, Adele Diamond replied. "Mr Burns is a respected member of the New York bar. He has a business to run, clients to represent...he's not a flight risk by any manner of means."

"Your Honour, the victim here was Mr Burns' wife, herself an assistant district attorney..."

"Who's currently in the middle of a messy divorce from my client," Adele interrupted. "It may be hitting close to home to see any of our brethren allegedly victimised, but it doesn't mean that we should hold different standards than we would with anyone else."

"Very well put Ms Diamond," Judge Schreiber replied. "Bail is set at $200,000, cash or bond."

"Your Honour, the People request that Mr Burns be prevented from having any contact whatsoever with his wife."

"So granted." The judge banged his gavel indicating the hearing was over.

As Edward was led away, Adele approached Frank and Ben watched them have a brief conversation before making way for the next case. As she left, she cast him a quick glance, but said nothing. He shook his head. How typical of Edward to hire a woman. Adele Diamond was a good litigator, shrewd and cutting with a penchant for defending men accused of sex crimes. In his own personal experience of coming up against her, she had successfully defended a college student, accusing of raping a girl at a frat party and, less successfully and more recently, the rock start C-Square.

"What did she want?" he asked Frank as the other man approached him.

"She wants to know who's in charge of the case."

"That hasn't been decided yet," Ben replied. "Does she want to talk?"

"She didn't say, but she wasn't exactly friendly."

"No...she never is."

"Well, if I can do anything else to help, just let me know," Frank said. "I have to run. I've got a hearing with Judge Stein in 10 minutes."

$200,000 Ben thought as he made his way out of the courtroom, the bastard will probably raise that in about ten minutes.

"Ben!" Turning, he saw Claire hurrying towards him carrying her briefcase. "How did the arraignment go?"

"He was bailed," he replied, "unsurprisingly."

"Bail conditions though, right?" He nodded. "You know, I still can't believe it. I still can't believe what I saw..."

"I know."

"How's Evelyn?"

Ben paused. The truth was...he didn't really know. In the immediate aftermath she had been assessed by an EMT, refused to go to hospital and been taken to her mother's apartment by one of the uniformed cops who had attended the incident. After things had calmed down and he had given his statement, he had called and been told by Susan that Evelyn was asleep. The following day he had called again to be told the same thing. Twice more she had repeated the same line. On Sunday he had gone to the apartment to be told through the intercom that she was in no state to see him. Again he had called to be told that she was sleeping. On his final attempt that night, Susan had rather curtly told him that Evelyn didn't want to see him.

"She's taking it hard," he replied honestly.

"That's understandable," Claire said.

"I'm going to go and see her now...let her know how the hearing went."

"Good. Please give her my best."

"I will."

Just over an hour later, he was standing once more outside Susan's apartment building buzzing the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Mrs Nicholls? It's Ben Stone." There was a pause at the other end of the line. "Please, I'd like to see Evelyn if I may."

"Mr Stone..." he winced slightly at the formality. "I told you last night that..."

"I know what you said," he interrupted. "But please, I have to see her."

Susan sighed heavily, but the security door also clicked and he pushed it open. She was waiting for him at the apartment door, her eyes heavy as though she had been crying or had little sleep. "I'm not sure why you keep persisting."

"Because I need to know that she's all right."

"She's not all right, that's the point!" Susan snapped. "Didn't you see her? Didn't you see what he's done to her?"

"Yes, I saw." To his relief, she stepped back and allowed him to enter, closing the door softly behind him. "Has she said anything?"

"She's barely said two words to me since the police brought her here. She only comes out of her bedroom to eat or use the bathroom. Her eye is...swollen and...and her neck...the bruising..." she ran her hand over her eyes. "I should have done something years ago! I should have...got her away from him somehow but...I didn't know, not really..." She sat down heavily on the couch.

Ben hovered in front of the fire place, "Can I see her?"

Susan met his gaze, "She won't see you."

"Has she said that?" She nodded. "She said that."

"It's one of the few things she did say. She didn't want to see you and...and something about a broken promise?"

He had known it was coming, but the knowledge did nothing to lessen the pain of actually hearing someone say it. It was what he had tortured himself with since it happened. The fact that he had told her he would protect her and then, when the time had actually come, been conspicuous by his absence. "I didn't mean to let her down," he said, his voice shaking.

Susan looked at him sympathetically. "Your relationship with my daughter...it's not strictly professional, is it?" He shook his head. "You seem like a very nice man. I'm sure...maybe, in time..."

"Maybe."

Susan paused and then got to her feet. "She said that if anyone from the office came by, I should give them this." Handing him a white envelope, she moved over to the window. "I think I can guess what it is."

Taking his glasses from his pocket, he slid a letter out and unfolded it.

Dear Mr Schiff,

Please accept my resignation from the post of Assistant District Attorney, New York County, effective immediately.

Please also accept my sincerest apologies for any embarrassment caused to the office by the events of Friday August 15 th .

I thank you for the opportunity provided to me and wish everyone in the office every success in the future.

Yours,

Evelyn Burns

XXXX

"What the hell is this?" Adam asked when Ben handed him the envelope. Without waiting for an answer, he slid the letter out, read it and then crumpled it up. "Well I'm not accepting this." Tossing it onto his desk, he sank into the chair. "How was she when you saw her?"

"I didn't see her," Ben replied miserably. "Her mother gave me the letter."

"She refused to see you?" Ben nodded. "Well I suppose I can't blame her. She's been through a terrible ordeal. No doubt, right now, she doesn't want to see anyone."

"So, what do we do?"

"Register her as being on sick leave. I'm sure she'll change her mind once she's had some time to recover and think about things." He shook his head. "I still can't believe that bastard was so brazen as to try and rape her in a public restroom."

Ben winced at the words. "He has bail conditions not to contact her but..."

"Tell the local precinct to do regular checks. He wouldn't be the first man to think he's above the law as far as that's concerned. She's staying with her mother?"

"For now."

"What a mess. Let's make sure she gets flowers from the office too."

Ben nodded, but he knew it was going to take a hell of a lot more than flowers.

XXXX

Evelyn stepped into the living room, blinking in the light streaming through the windows and wincing at the pain in her face and neck. Her mother had knocked on the door earlier and said she was just going out to get some groceries and did she need anything. She hadn't replied. She had heard Ben's voice earlier. He had been in the living room, talking to her mother. Part of her had wanted to go to him, feel his arms around her, his kiss on her forehead, his voice in her ear...but every time she thought of him, all she could hear was what he had said to her, right before dinner and all she could feel was Edward's hand around her throat.

The front door suddenly opened and then closed.

"You're up!" Susan exclaimed with faux cheerfulness. "Good, I thought you had decided to hibernate." She bustled past her into the kitchen. "I was going to make some lunch, are you hungry?" She shook her head. "Evelyn...you need to eat. You've barely touched anything since you came here. You must be starving."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Susan paused. "Ben was here."

"I know. I heard him."

"You could have at least come out and said hello."

"What am I, twelve?" she snapped. "I should come out of my room to say hello to every Tom Dick or Harry who decides to stop by? I told you I didn't want to see him."

"You didn't tell me that you were lovers."

"I...what?" she struggled for words. "I don't know what you mean."

"Darling...all I want is for you to be happy," Susan said. "Ben seems like a lovely man..."

She screwed her eyes up and shook her head, as if doing so could block out her mother's words. "I don't want to hear it."

"Evelyn..."

"I don't want to hear it! Did you give him the letter?"

"Yes."

"Fine," she turned and headed back for her room. "Please, don't mention him again." Before Susan could say anything more, she closed the door and crawled back into the bed. The tears came and she let them fall, but she stuffed the duvet into her mouth so that no-one would hear her.

Old habits died hard.

XXXX

Inevitably, work precluded Ben from dwelling on Evelyn. Or perhaps he was just a master at using it to deflect from his personal feelings. Whichever it was, the time slipped by as he immersed himself in Callie Watkins' medical records. She had had numerous trips to the emergency room in her short life, all with injuries which her mother had seemingly managed to explain away to doctors. The sheer negligence of it all astounded him. How could anyone, looking at these records, not see some sort of pattern of abusive behaviour? It was beyond comprehension.

When the phone rang, he was in the middle of reading the most recent report from four months earlier and he lifted the receiver distractedly. "Stone."

"Ben."

Her voice immediately drew him back. "Evelyn? Thank God. Are you all right?"

"Can we meet?" she asked.

"Of course. Where? When?"

"The diner across the street from the office. An hour?"

"Ok, but are you..." the line went dead and he slowly replaced the receiver. It had been her voice, but she had sounded so different...distant...and he was reminded of what her mother had said.

An hour later, when he walked into the diner, she was already sitting in a booth near the back, a cup of coffee in front of her. Even from the door, he could see the damage to her face. Her right eye was red and swollen, a gash underneath it, her neck once again covered with a scarf. She looked up and met his gaze but gave no indication of being pleased to see him. He made his way over and sat down opposite, refusing coffee when it was offered.

She said nothing.

"Thank you for seeing me," he said finally, the formality of the words surprising him. "I've called and visited..."

"I know," she replied harshly. "I want you to stop."

Ben paused. "Your mother gave me your letter..."

"Will you give it to Adam for me?"

"I did. He said he won't accept it."

She looked down into her cup. "More fool him."

"Evelyn..." he reached for her hand but she moved away, crushing him that little bit more. "Please don't do this."

"Don't do what, resign? What other choice do I have? I made a spectacle of myself on Friday night..."

"That was not your fault!"

"Wasn't it?" She met his gaze. "I should have known he would be there and when I knew for certain he was, I should have left."

"Evelyn..."

"And when he had me in that restroom I should have never..." she broke off. "Look what standing up to him got me."

"Sweetheart, please..."

"Don't call me that. I'm not your sweetheart. You..."

"Go on," he said, knowing what was coming and being prepared to take it. "Say it."

"You promised me." It came out as a whisper, her eyes filling with tears. "You promised me, Ben..."

"I know I did and...and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry..." she started to slide out of the booth. "Evelyn, please don't go..." he stood up, effectively blocking her path and, to his horror, she visibly recoiled from him. He stepped slightly to the side, letting her know she had an escape route if she wanted to take it. "Please...please, I love you..."

She shook her head and rubbed her face with her hand, "I can't hear it, Ben, I can't. We should never have gotten involved with each other...we should never have slept together...it was a huge mistake. Please just let me go." Pushing past him, she headed for the door and he waited...waited and watched her leave for a few seconds before pursuing her out into the humid afternoon air.

"Evelyn, wait! Please wait!"He reached out and took hold of her arm, only for her to swing around suddenly and slap him. He froze, as did she, a look of horror crossing her face, then she wrenched her arm out of his grip and took off running across the street.

September 1993

Two weeks later

"What do you mean I can't prosecute this case? She's my assistant!"

"Exactly. You're too emotionally involved."

"That's ridiculous."

"Really? So when Burns is on the stand, telling the jury that he never laid a hand on her, that every time he took her to bed she was a willing partner and that she's made up all these accusations to screw him over in their divorce, you're going to be able to sit there and listen and then impartially cross examine him?"

"Yes."

"And you'll be able to look her in the eye when she's on the stand telling the court everything he did to her?"

Ben paused. "Yes."

"Then you're a better man than me, my friend." Adam sighed. "It's not going to be an easy trial."

"You think I don't know that? He abused her for fifteen years and he kept on doing it even after she left him! Even right in front of all of us!"

"No."

"Adam..."

"McCoy is..."

"McCoy..." Ben snorted. "He's not the right man for this and you know it."

"Then who is, apart from you?" Adam looked at him. "No-one. Because you think that no-one can prosecute as well as you can."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"Well if you want something done right, you do it yourself," Ben said. "I'm not going to apologise for being confident in my own abilities."

Edward had been indicted three days earlier, arraigned on the new charges and re-bailed. Jack had conducted the Grand Jury and Claire had handled the arraignment, both against Ben's wishes. He had wanted to face Edward himself, but had been comforted at least by the thought of the trial to come. Now, even that was being taken away from him.

"So you're the only one who could get a conviction."

"I didn't say that. Adam..."

"No."

"Damn it!" he stood up quickly and kicked the chair, knocking it over onto its back. When he turned back to Adam, he saw the look of surprise on the other man's face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"Ben, you're only human and you're close to Evelyn, I understand that. But that little outburst alone should tell you that you're not the right person for this and, deep down, I think you know that." Ben said nothing. "When was the last time you spoke to her?"

He looked at the ground, still able to feel the sting of her attack. "Not since we met, briefly, at the diner."

"Well, I'm going to call her, personally, later this afternoon and talk to her. I think it's only fair that she hear what's going on from me." Adam paused. "Do you want me to give her a message?"

Ben shook his head. "No. No message."

XXXX

Jack leaned back in his chair and eyed his visitor critically. "So what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I want this done right. I want Evelyn to get the justice she deserves after everything she's been through. I want Edward Burns in jail."

"You trying to tell me how to do my job, Ben?"

Ben looked at the other man unsure, even after all the years they had worked together, whether he liked what he saw. "Of course not. I'm just..."

"You're taking this awful personally."

"You're damn right I'm taking it personally! How would you feel if all of this was happening to Claire?"

Jack paused, a knowing smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "I see."

"No, you don't. You don't see anything."

"I see a man trying desperately to protect the woman he's in love with."

"That's not..."

"Not what, the truth? Come on Ben, we're both men of the world."

Ben stared at him. "I'm nothing like you, Jack."

"Why? Because you can't admit your motives to yourself?" Jack stood up and came around his desk. "It's not a crime to fall in love with someone, even if that someone is your assistant." He paused. "How is she?"

He sank down heavily in the chair and shook his head. "I wouldn't know. For all that I love her...I don't think she loves me."

"I'm sorry."

"Which is why I want the bastard to rot in jail."

"Don't worry," Jack said. "He will."

Chapter Text

"I appreciate you calling me."

"Not at all. I wanted you to know that everyone is this office is thinking about you and that we're concerned about you. Especially Ben."

Ben...Evelyn closed her eyes and wrapped the cord of the phone around her fingers. Two weeks since she had last seen him and he had been on her mind every single day of them. The look on his face at the diner when he had begged her not to walk away...the shock when she had slapped him...she screwed her eyes shut, willing away the image. She knew, deep down, that he wasn't to blame for any of it and yet, like the gentleman he was, he had done as she had asked. He hadn't called or made any further attempt to see her, but she missed him like an ache that just won't go away, no matter what you do to try and anaesthetise yourself.

"You obviously know that Edward was arraigned again a few days ago," Adam's voice brought her back to the moment.

"Yes, I got the letter from the court." Twelve counts of assault in the second degree, four counts of attempted rape in the first degree and two counts of rape in the first degree, charges spanning from 1978 to the present day. When she had read the words, the sum total of her marriage, she had felt numb, almost as though it had happened to someone else, as though she were just the lawyer. It was how she had got through the Grand Jury questioning, by pretending it was happening to someone else. She and Jack and everyone in the room had all been actors, simply reciting words written by someone else about facts that never really happened. She had been glad it had been him and not Ben asking the questions. Somehow she didn't think she would have been able to do it in those circumstances and, she suspected, neither would he.

"There's no rush on you coming back to work," Adam continued. "If you don't feel ready..."

"No, I am," she interrupted. "Two weeks of staring at the four walls is enough to drive anyone crazy. I thought I would start back on Monday if that's all right?"

"Of course it is. We'll be glad to see you."

He rang off and Evelyn put the phone down slowly. Back to work meant back to Ben...seeing him every day...working with him...she rubbed her hands across her face. Perhaps having her resignation accepted really would have been the better option. How were they supposed to communicate about anything, least of all work, with everything that had happened hanging over them?

Her stomach growled and she suddenly realised that she hadn't eaten since that morning. Her appetite had fluctuated over the last few days. Some days she would stuff herself until she felt so full and bloated that she could barely move. Other days she barely managed a piece of dry toast. It had been one of the latter mornings, but now it felt like it could turn into one of the former afternoons. She lifted her bag from the couch, feeling comforted by its recent increased weight. There was no need to check if it was there, she knew it was. It had been since she had slipped it inside two days earlier, bought easily from someone that she had known from her days in defence. It made her feel better, knowing that it was there.

The afternoon was warm and bright, the city clinging on to the tail end of the summer weather. The forecasters were saying it could well last right into October and even beyond before the temperatures crashed in time for winter and Thanksgiving. The thought of the holiday lifted her mood slightly. Her cousin Sarah and her family were coming over from England, the first time they had all visited together in the last ten years. She was looking forward to seeing them and spending time with them all free from the spectre of Edward in the corner, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else than with her family.

"Evelyn!"

The sound of his voice froze her instantly in her tracks. It couldn't be...not again...slowly she turned and, there he was, across the street standing next to a parked car, looking as though he had every right in the world to be there. Her throat started to close up, her chest started to heave in panic and yet, she couldn't move, couldn't do anything as he crossed towards her.

"We need to talk."

"Get away from me," she said, but the words barely travelled.

"You know how ridiculous this all is," he continued, walking towards her. "There must be a way for us to sort this out between us without having to resort to my being continually arraigned on bogus charges."

"Get away from me!" the words came out louder this time, but he merely raised his eyebrows.

"Calm down."

"I swear to God Eddie if you touch me...!"

"What? You'll do what?" he goaded her. "You're in over your head, Evelyn, and you know it. Nobody is ever going to take you seriously. I mean, rape? We were married for Christ's sake and everyone knows that when a husband wants it...woah...woah! Hey!" He stepped back, his hands raised slightly. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

She didn't remember reaching into her bag and pulling out the gun. It just suddenly appeared in her hand, the barrel pointed towards him, shaking slightly in her grip. The hammer was cocked, her finger was on the trigger...all she had to do was squeeze it and...

"Jesus, don't! Evelyn! Evelyn, put it down!" Edward looked terrified, for the first time she had ever known him, and it made her feel good. Now she had the power of life and death. "Please put it down! You're not going to shoot me, you can't!" He stepped back. "Evelyn, if you do this, nobody at your office, not even Ben Stone will be able to help you!"

Ben...the very mention of his name brought her up sharply and, suddenly, she saw what she was doing. She was standing in the middle of New York City pointing an unlicensed firearm at her husband and seriously contemplating shooting him.

"Oh God..." she gasped, lowering it. "What am I doing? What am I doing...?" Before he could say anything, she turned and ran as fast as she could away from him, not bothering to check and see if he was following her. As she ran, the gun felt heavy in her hand and, rounding the corner, she tossed it down a stoop before waving her hand frantically at a passing vacant cab. It slid to a halt and she wrenched open the door. "One Hogan Place," she gasped. "As fast as you can."

XXXX

Ben sighed heavily. "Arthur, we went through all this the other week. Now this is the second time you've dragged me up here with the promise of a deposition only to leave me hanging!"

"You're still getting a deposition, Ben," Arthur Gold replied. "It might not be the one you want..."

"It should be the one your client wants. He made his deal based on what he was prepared to give us on the Lucchese family. If he wants to back out of that now then that deal is worthless!"

"He's not backing out. He's prepared to give you what he knows!"

"Which is apparently nothing and nowhere close to what you promised in my office!"

Gold smiled, "I don't recall promising you anything, Ben."

Ben shook his head and got to his feet. "I'm not playing this game with you any more, Arthur. Your client hasn't kept up his end of the bargain so I'm going back to my office and putting in an application to have his sentence vacated."

"You can't do that."

"I think you'll find I can," Ben replied, banging on the door to be allowed out. "You might want to consider your position carefully, Mr Lehrman. Your former colleagues failed in their appeal last week and if you want to join them for the rest of your life then you're going the right way about it." Before either Gold or Patrick Lehrman could say anything more, the door opened and he slid out, closing it behind him.

"You've got a phone call," the desk officer said, handing him the receiver as he signed himself out.

Ben took it from him, "Stone."

"Mr Stone, thank God!"

"Celia?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you but I...I had to call."

"What's the matter?"

"It's Mrs Burns," Celia said. "She came in about forty minutes ago and...well...she wasn't herself. In fact, she was hysterical. She said she needed to see you and when I told her you were at Rikers..."

Ben's heart thudded, "Is she still there?"

"No. I told her that she could wait and that you would soon be on your way back but she wouldn't listen! She just kept saying that she had to see you and then she left."

"Did she say where she was going?" he asked, feeling himself start to panic.

"No, but I just took a call from Dr Olivet's office and apparently she turned up there about ten minutes ago in no better a state that she was when she was here. I don't know if..."

Without letting her finish, Ben tossed the receiver back to the desk officer and raced for the door. Fortunately, the traffic was lighter than he had anticipated and, just under an hour later, he was taking the stairs two at a time in Elizabeth's building.

When he opened the door to the outer office, Evelyn was sitting on a couch in the far corner and, upon seeing him, launched herself across the room and into his arms. It felt good holding her again, even though she was trembling, and he squeezed her as hard as he dared, almost afraid that she would suddenly evaporate.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, her words tumbling out like a fountain spilling water, muffled as it was against his chest. "I'm sorry for what I said...I'm sorry for what I did...please...Ben...I didn't mean any of it..."

"It's all right," he told her, keeping his voice deliberately calm, though he wanted to shake her. "I'm here...it's all right..."

She pulled back, her face tearstained, her eyes wide. "He was outside my building and...and he came over and...and he wanted to talk but I was scared...I was so scared..."

"Ssshhh..."

"I didn't mean to pull out the gun, I swear. I only had it for peace of mind...I didn't mean to..."

"Gun?" Ben glanced sharply over her shoulder to where Elizabeth was standing.

"A thirty-eight," she said quietly.

"I wasn't going to shoot him, Ben, I wasn't..." Evelyn gasped. "I only wanted to scare him...I wasn't going to..." She dissolved into tears again and he crushed her to him, hating himself for having accepted what she had asked of him, for not insisting that she keep him close rather than shut him out. Perhaps he might have been able to prevent whatever she was going through now.

"Listen, listen to me..." he said. "It's all right. We're going to call Briscoe and Logan and they're going to pick Edward up for a bail violation..."

"No!" she pulled back again, clearly terrified. "No, if they do that Ben and he gets bailed..."

"He's already out on two bonds," he reassured her. "No judge in the county is going to let him out on a third, especially for a violation. He's going to Rikers."

"You don't know that!"

"I do know that!" he shook her gently. "Now you need to listen to me and believe what I'm telling you."

"But the gun wasn't licensed."

Ben stared at her, "What?"

"I just...I..."

"Evelyn, that's a felony!"

"I know..." she broke down again and all he could do was hold her. Elizabeth shifted in his line of vision and, when he looked over at her, she gestured for him to step inside her office.

"I'm just going to talk to Liz," he said, gently prising her away. "If you wait here, I won't be long." She gripped onto him, as though terrified to let him out of her sight. "It's all right," he said again and she sank back into the couch as he followed Elizabeth into her office and closed the door. "Thank you," he said when they were alone. "For taking care of her."

"She's my patient," Elizabeth replied. "If any of my patients turned up in that sort of state, of course I would take care of them, but what I want to know is what the hell you think you're doing."

He paused. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Ben, that woman threw herself at you when you came through that door as if you were long lost lovers not colleagues." She stopped and he watched as realisation dawned. "No..."

"Liz..."

"Ben, are you insane? Do you have any idea what she's been through?"

"Of course I have!"

"What she needs right now is stability and support not men seeing her as some sort of easy prey!"

Her words stunned him, given how long they had known each other. "Is that what you think?"

"Am I wrong?"

"You think that I'm taking advantage of her?"

"So I'm right."

He turned for the door, unwilling to hear anything further. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh don't I? I'm a psychiatrist, Ben, and what I see is a vulnerable woman who has been used and abused by a man for most of her adult life..."

"Not by me!"

"You're not helping her. She needs to be independent. She needs to learn to stand on her own two feet otherwise she is never going to be able to break free from this trauma. She doesn't need to be controlled by another man...and I don't mean control in a negative way," she pre-empted his objection. "But she came in here frantic because she hadn't been able to find you, because she was terrified of what Edward was going to do to her and what might happen to her because of the gun. The only reason I called your office and not an EMT was because of how desperate she was to see you."

"So what am I supposed to do?" he appealed to her. "Tell me what to do, Liz, because it seems as though everything I try to do for her is wrong."

"You need to be her friend, period."

Ben shook his head, "I tried that once and it didn't work."

"Ben..."

"I love her, Liz, ok? I love her and I'm not about to go back out there and tell her that I can only go as far as being her friend. I let her down as far as protecting her from Edward at the dinner...I'm not about to do it again."

Elizabeth stepped forward, "That's my point! It is not your job to protect her from Edward!"

"Then whose job is it?!" he demanded.

"She has to be able to develop her own coping strategies to deal with him and by manipulating a sexual relationship..."

"Manipulating?! You're making me sound as bad as he is!" He shook his head and opened the office door. "Why don't you come back to me once you've stepped off your high horse, Liz? I'm not the one who slept with a patient." She gaped at him, but before she could respond, he made his way back into the lobby where Evelyn leapt to her feet and held out his hand to her. "Come on, I'll take you home."

"No...I can't stay there, Ben, I can't..."

"Just to get some things," he reassured her, glancing back to where Elizabeth was standing, her expression etched with disapproval, "and then you're coming home with me."

XXXX

His apartment was pretty much exactly as she had expected. Tidy, masculine and yet the photographs of Peter and Pamela dotted around the living room gave it a homely feel that she really hadn't expected. As they had ridden over together in the cab, and she had been imagining what it might be like, she had thought she might find it clinical. In reality it was anything but. She put her bag down next to the coffee table and shrugged off her jacket. He took it from her without ceremony and hung it in the closet by the door while she cast her eyes around.

"There's...uh...clean sheets on the spare bed."

She turned to look at him, trying to read his expression, but the events of the day had caught up with her. Her head ached and her vision was slightly blurry so she couldn't tell whether he really wanted her to sleep there or not. "Thank you."

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Starving. I was on my way out to get something when..." she trailed off at the memory.

"Ok, I can make us something." He made his way into the kitchen and she followed, hovering in the doorway as he started pulling out pots and pans from the cupboards.

"Shouldn't you be at the office?"

He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Hardly any point in going back there now."

"But you must have been in the middle of something when you got the call to come to Olivet's."

"It can wait."

She watched as he busied himself, the typical divorced bachelor, able to fend for himself in any given situation, and wondered if she would ever feel so self-sufficient. "Can I help?"

He turned and smiled at her, "No, it's fine. Why don't you go and sit down?"

"I'd...rather stay here if that's all right with you."

"Of course."

She leaned against the door frame, saying nothing yet thinking everything. What was going to happen now? If she reported Edward for breaching his bail conditions he could simply turn around and have her charged with a Sullivan violation...a felony, as Ben had needlessly pointed out to her. Eighteen months in jail. "Do you think Adam will want me charged?"

Ben stopped and looked at her. "For what?"

"The gun."

"No."

"But..."

"He won't want you charged," he insisted. "I promise you that and, unlike previous promises I've made, I intend to keep this one."

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that he hadn't broken any promise to her, that the fault lay with her and Edward and no-one else, but the very thought of mentioning her husband's name made her shiver, so she said nothing.

XXXX

The evening passed pleasantly enough. After dinner they watched television, talked about work and generally relaxed in each other's company, but the elephant in the room was trumpeting noisily in the corner and, finally, she yawned for the hundredth time and said that she was going to go to bed. He stood when she did, bade her goodnight and accepted her kiss on his cheek before she made her way into the spare room, closed the door and undressed for bed. The bed itself was cool and inviting and sleep claimed her quickly, but it was anything but peaceful. Edward was there, his face close to hers, mocking her, laughing, his hands around her throat, on her face, her body, everywhere...he was dragging her down, hitting, kicking, all the time telling her that she was his and that he could whatever the hell he wanted to her...

She must have been screaming, because all of a sudden she felt skin against her own, a real body, not a dream. She was in his arms and he was holding her and talking to her, words that she didn't understand but which somehow comforted her. As she held onto him, she felt herself being slowly pulled back from the nightmare, back into the real world and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw him and knew everything was going to be all right.

He didn't pull away when she kissed him, didn't protest when she pulled him down beside her, her hands going to his underpants at the same time as he slid her nightshirt over her head. She clutched him tightly as he gently pried her legs apart and then slid inside her, gasping against her mouth.

And as they moved together, she felt safe.

Chapter Text

It was the early autumn sunshine streaming through the window that eventually woke Ben the following morning. Evelyn was lying next to him, facing the far wall, her back pressed against his chest, her warmth flooding him. His mouth found its way to her neck and he kissed her there, softly, until she started to stir. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she murmured in response, rolling over onto her opposite side and pressing her face into his neck. "What time is it?"

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Seven-thirty."

"You better have a good reason for waking me up so early on a Saturday."

"Such as?"

"Such as wanting to make love to me again like you did last night." She pulled back and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "I'm only sorry you had to wake me from a nightmare to do it."

He kissed the tip of her nose, recalling how he had heard her screaming and found her flailing in the bed, attacking an unseen assailant. His original intention had simply been to comfort her, to let her know that she was safe and that Edward couldn't hurt her, but things had quickly taken a different turn and he had been somewhat surprised by his own hunger and need, not to mention hers. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, of course not." She stroked his face gently. "I feel safe when I'm with you."

He kissed her again and the sensation of her naked body against his only served to reignite the fire from the previous night. Twenty minutes later, sweaty and breathless, he rolled out of the bed and peered out of the window blind. "Looks like it's going to be a nice day."

"You better hope none of your neighbours are looking."

"We better hope they're deaf too." He turned back to look at her. "I'm going to call Jack."

She stared at him. "Why?"

"Because he's the lead prosecutor on the case and it's only fair that he knows what happened yesterday."

Evelyn sat up and drew the covers over herself. "What do you think he'll say?" Ben shrugged. "What would you say?"

"That you were stupid to be carrying around an unlicensed firearm, but..."

"But?"

"But that it was understandable that you would want protection given everything that's happened to you."

"Tell me honestly: do you think it's going to hurt the case?"

Ben sat down on the edge of the bed, "Do you think it's going to hurt the case?" She looked away, clearly not wanting to answer. "Think about it this way. If Edward wants to claim that you committed a felony by pointing that gun at him then he's going to have to be prepared to admit that he violated his bail order by approaching you. Do you think he's going to want to do that?"

"I don't know. I really don't. If he thought it might help him in the grand scheme of things..."

"Well, there have been no cops banging on the door yet so..."

"Yeah but they won't know that I'm here, will they? They could be breaking down the door to my apartment as we speak." She ran a hand through her hair. "I've just made this whole thing a million times worse, haven't I?"

He slid over to her and pushed her hair back from her face. "Whatever happens, you know I'm here for you, right?" She nodded mutely. "So, do you want to join me in the shower or would you prefer some privacy?"

She smiled ruefully, "Oh I'm all for helping save the planet."

XXXX

"I can't believe you could have been so stupid!" Jack raged, pacing in front of the couch two hours later. After perhaps the most pleasurable shower he had had in a long time, Ben had called him and quickly explained the situation, prompting an angry response and an assertion that he would be over as soon as possible. "You're an ADA for God's sake!"

"Go easy Jack," Ben said. "She was afraid of him. With, as it turns out, good reason!"

"So that justifies carrying around an illegal gun? You should have applied for a license properly if you felt you needed one, Evelyn!"

"And that would have taken how long, three months?" Evelyn said. "I needed something right away!"

"You should have spoken to the police!"

"And they would have done what? They couldn't give me an armed guard twenty four hours a day!"

Jack stopped pacing and glared at her. "Where did you even get the gun?"

"I bought it."

"From who?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does."

She paused. "From someone I represented a few years ago."

"And where is it now?"

"I threw it away."

"What?"

"I threw it away."

"Where?"

"Am I on trial or something?" she shot back.

"You very well might be! Now where did you throw it?!"

"Under a stoop around the corner from my building."

"Well that's just great," Jack said. "So now we have an unlicensed firearm with your prints on it lying somewhere on the Lower East Side! Do you have any idea what could happen if someone were to find it and then use it in, oh I don't know, a murder?!"

"What do you want me to do, go and find it?" She got to her feet. "I'm pretty sure I can remember which building it was, so I'll just go and look!"

"Evelyn..." Ben put his hand on her arm.

"No," she pulled away from him. "If he's so concerned about it, let me go and find it!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Jack said. "I'll call Briscoe and Logan and have them go and look for it if you can give them a rough idea of the location." He ran a hand through his hair. "Luckily, if Edward wanted to make anything of this he'd have to admit his own criminal behaviour so it seems unlikely that it's going to amount to anything."

"That's what I said," Ben added.

"Oh really," Jack turned to him. "You haven't exactly covered yourself in glory over this sorry affair either, Ben."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ben asked.

"You should have brought her into the office yesterday after this happened, not squirreled her away in your apartment where God knows what's been going on!"

Ben stared at him, the hypocrisy of the man leaving him breathless. "Whatever is happening between myself and Evelyn..."

"Oh spare me the end run counsellor," Jack interrupted. "You know as well as I do that whatever's going on here is highly likely to come out during the course of any trial!"

"And that's our problem, not yours!"

"Oh yeah, that's right. I'm only the guy doing the prosecuting. What does it have to do with me?!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Evelyn said, putting her hands over her ears. "This isn't solving anything!"

"No, you're right," Jack said. "So I'm going to leave now before I say something I regret but first thing Monday morning, I am going straight to Adam. That is, assuming you haven't been arrested before then." He stalked towards the front door, Ben in pursuit.

"Jack...if you're talking to Adam I'd appreciate it if you kept certain aspects of this to yourself."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that she's staying here."

Jack shook his head. "Still so concerned with that reputation of yours Ben?"

Ben fought down the urge to smack him one. "No, that's not it at all, but if he has to find out, it would be better coming from me directly, not you."

"Fine," Jack replied. "I'll keep your secret, but, like I said, if this goes to trial Ben, there's no way that you're going to be able to hide it." He left, slamming the door behind him.

Ben sighed and turned back to where Evelyn was standing by the couch. "So...what do you want to do?"

She held out her hand. "Can we go back to bed?"

XXXX

"I don't think it's going to be a problem."

"Well I'm glad you see it that way, Jack, because I happen to think that it's a big problem!"

Evelyn looked down at her hands as the conversation raged around her. Jack had told Adam what had occurred over the last few days and his first action that Monday morning, had been to call all three of them into his office for a full explanation. She wasn't sure if it was because she was the only female in the room, but she had never felt more like an errant schoolgirl, being blasted by the headmaster.

"And what do you have to say for yourself?"

Realising he was addressing her, she lifted her eyes again. "That I'm sorry."

"Sorry...well, that makes it all right then. Sorry clearly absolves you, me and this office from any responsibility."

"Adam, it was a mistake," Ben said. "She's been under a lot of pressure..."

"We're all under pressure. We don't all go around pointing weapons at people!" Evelyn bit her tongue in an effort to stop herself from telling him that he had absolutely no idea of the pressure she had been under. Somehow, she knew it wouldn't help her cause. "Did you know about it?"

"That she had purchased a gun? No."

"Ben knew nothing," she spoke up.

"And yet you saw fit to drag not only him, but Dr Olivet into your mess."

"I didn't know what else to do! After it happened I just..."

"You could have called Briscoe and Logan. You could have gone to the nearest police precinct. You could have gone back into your apartment and locked the doors!"

"Yes, you're right, I could have but I didn't!"

Adam turned back to Jack. "Did they find the gun?"

"Yes, thankfully, right where Evelyn said it would be."

"Well that's something at least." He paused. "By rights, I should suspend you pending a disciplinary hearing."

She laughed mirthlessly. After everything that had happened, it seemed like the least of her worries."Fine."

"Uh...I don't think that's necessary Adam, do you?" Ben jumped in. "If the gun's been recovered, then there's no harm done. Edward Burns is unlikely to make an issue of it when he was the instigator."

"No harm done," Adam echoed. "An assistant district attorney is confessing to a felony in my office and there's no harm done. A suspension should be the least of the consequences here!" There was an awkward silence. "I'd like to speak to Mrs Burns alone if I may, gentlemen."

Evelyn looked over at Ben, his expression a clear indication that he would rather stay. "I...uh..."

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"No sir."

"Good."

"It's fine," Evelyn said, in a tone that she hoped was appropriately neutral. He looked at her for a long moment before nodding and then leaving with Jack.

When they were alone, Adam took a seat in the armchair opposite her. "I have immense sympathy for what you've been through, I want you to know that. But that does not mean that I can condone your recent actions."

"I know," she said quietly. "And I am sorry."

"I accept that, but I have to think of this office...and the other people who work in it. Other people who are also affected by what you're involved in."

She met his gaze. "Other people? You mean Ben?"

Adam nodded. "You think I haven't seen it?"

"Seen what?"

"The way he looks at you. The way you look at him."

There was no trace of anger or recrimination on his face and yet she knew that his bringing it up was not because he wanted to congratulate them. "I..."

"Ben has been here for the best part of twenty years, longer than I have, pretty much since he left law school. He's the best litigator and, probably, the best man I've ever known and, I don't mind telling you, that nothing would make me happier than to see him settled in this office once my tenure here is up."

Evelyn looked at him, waiting for him to say more, wanting to plead ignorance and yet knowing that they were both very firmly on the same page. "So...what are you trying to say?" she asked softly.

"I'm saying that with public office comes great responsibility and scrutiny. If Ben ever wants to sit in my chair, then he needs to come to it clean...without blemish."

"He's already divorced..."

"That doesn't matter."

"But...I'm a blemish."

"Your situation, not you." Adam sighed. "I don't mean this unkindly, Evelyn, but..."

"But you would rather it ended," she finished for him.

He looked at her squarely. "Yes."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Relationships out with the office are one thing, not ideal but are capable of being overlooked. But an Executive Assistant District Attorney, having an affair with his assistant..."

"I'm separated, it's not an affair."

"You're splitting hairs. You're married to another man, not to mention the fact, that you're about to be the main witness in one of the biggest trials of the year. The publicity that this is going to generate is greater than you can imagine. Now Jack can do everything he can, but do you honestly believe that there isn't a chance this could all come out, forever immortalised in a trial transcript for any journalist to dig up five, ten years from now?"

"I don't see how it makes a difference whether we work together or not if it comes out," she replied, even though they both knew how hollow her statement was. Adam merely looked at her, obviously not wanting to explicitly fire her but hoping that she would choose to do the right thing. Her job versus her burgeoning relationship and Ben's future. It wasn't a difficult choice, not really. Slowly, she got to her feet and mustered the most pleasant expression that she could. "Thank you for the opportunity you gave me here, Mr Schiff, but I'd like to stand by the terms of the letter of resignation I sent to you two weeks ago.

Adam stood too. "With great regret, I accept." He held out his hand and she shook it solemnly. "I'm sure you won't have any difficulty finding alternative employment and you can rely on a glowing recommendation from this office."

"Thank you," she replied. "I'll clear my desk and just make sure that Ben's up to speed with everything I've been working on." Before he could say anything further, she left the office, blinking back the angry tears threatening to flow. Even now, Edward was still capable of screwing up her life.

When she got back to her desk, she quickly filled a box with her few limited personal possessions and then lifted the stack of files sitting in the corner. As she made her way towards Ben's office, she couldn't help but be reminded of that first day when she had been late and he had chewed her out. If only she'd known then what she knew now.

He was just finishing up a phone call when she walked in and when he put the receiver down, he sighed heavily. "Danielle Melnick's bringing Alice Watkins back in for a sit down. I want to put all the medical records to her and see what she has to say. Some of those injuries pre-date her relationship with Finch. I'm starting to think we really have got this case all wrong. Not to mention the fact..." he gestured to his notepad, "that Arthur Gold has been blowing up my call sheet all morning. What have you got there?"

"It's the open files I've been working on." He raised his eyebrows. "I suppose I need to pass them back to you just now so that...well...you can pass them on to your next assistant."

Ben got to his feet and pulled off his glasses. "He fired you?"

"No, of course not," she said, putting the files down on the table. "I resigned. It's for the best, Ben. I never really belonged here."

"That's not true and you know it!" He paused. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you. He must have said something."

"He didn't. Ben..." she put her hand on his arm as he made to move past her. "Don't do anything stupid. Let it go, it's all right."

"But..."

"It's a big city and I like to think I'm a good attorney...I shouldn't have any problem finding another job. Besides..." she slid her arms around his waist, not caring at that moment who might see but just needing to feel his warmth. "I still have you, right?"

He looked down at her, "Of course you do. You know I love you."

"And I love you, so that's all that matters." He stopped and kissed her gently. "I'm just going to take my stuff home and then, I don't know, start searching the situations vacant I guess."

"Here, I'll give you the key," he started rooting in his pocket.

"No, I mean my apartment," she said. "I can't stay with you, Ben."

"Evelyn..." he took hold of her arms, "I don't want you going back there on your own."

"I'll be fine," she reassured him. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for me over the last few days but...I need to stand on my own two feet."

Ben frowned, "Have you been talking to Olivet?"

Evelyn paused, "No, why?"

"Just something she said the other day when I picked you up from her office."

"She was probably right, whatever it was."

"No," he said, "she wasn't."

Curiosity made her want to ask more but, given she technically no longer worked there, she felt a need to leave before anyone started questioning her. A wicked thought suddenly entered her head and she smiled as she ran her fingers over the top of his desk. "You never did make love to me on this desk."

He moved closer to her, "There's still time."

She laughed and pushed him lightly away. "Easy counsellor, people will start talking. Anyway, why don't you come over to mine later? I can attempt to cook something, or I can rustle up a takeaway menu if needs be."

"Ok," he nodded, "as long as you're sure you're all right."

"I'm fine," she reached up and kissed his cheek quickly as his phone started ringing. "That's probably Arthur Gold so you'd better take it." She left the office, picked up the box from her desk and made her way to the elevators. As she did so, she passed Celia, who simply stared at her. "Goodbye Celia," she called as pleasantly as she could. "Don't be so hard on the next one." The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, grateful that it was empty.

When they closed again, she broke down.

Chapter Text

Three weeks later

"So I have some good news for you," Veronica said, leafing through the papers in front of her. "I spoke to Edward's attorney yesterday and he's prepared to make a payment to you now of sixty thousand dollars."

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. "That's it?"

"I know, it's not anywhere near what you should be receiving, but it's a start. Plus, given that we're now able to legally file for divorce given the new circumstances, we should hopefully be able to push things through a lot faster than we would have been able to before." She paused. "I only wish you had told me the whole story sooner."

"I know. I'm sorry." Evelyn leaned forward in her chair. "The last time I had a conversation with Eddie, a proper conversation that is, he claimed that all the money was tied up in these 'investments' that he'd made. So where has he suddenly found sixty grand?"

"According to Howard Loomis, it's money from your joint account, roughly thirty percent of the total amount. You'd be in line for around another thirty thousand from it, not to mention the sale of the apartment and the Sag Harbor house."

"And what did he say about those?"

"Not a lot," Veronica admitted. "Off the record, he seemed a little concerned."

"Concerned about what?"

"About Edward. He said that he seems very nervous and edgy at the moment."

"So he should," Evelyn sat back. "He's been indicted on charges that could see him spend the rest of his life in jail. Anyone would be nervous and edgy."

"No, Howard thinks it's more than that, but he doesn't know what. He said he thought Edward almost seemed...well...scared."

The revelation about her husband's involvement with the Lucchese family ran through her mind. Had it been true after all, or had it been an elaborate ruse to try and win her sympathy? After everything that had happened, she really didn't know anymore. All she did know was that the new double lock on her door and pending gun licence made her feel slightly better.

"Well, the money will be a help," she said. "My mother's been very generous but I can't keep having her top me up financially."

"I should have the money by the end of the week and I'll make sure you have a cheque as soon as the funds are cleared," Veronica assured her. "Meanwhile...how's the job hunting going?"

"I've got another interview after I leave here," Evelyn replied, "but in reality..."

"Well, if you know anything about tax law, we have an opening here."

"Sadly, what I know about tax law could be written on the back of a postage stamp, but thanks." She checked her watch. "I'd better go. I don't want to be late. I haven't exactly had a lot of choices when it's come to my new career."

"I'm sorry you had to leave the DA's office," Veronica stood up. "I thought you would do well there."

"So did I," Evelyn replied, lifting her handbag. "So did I."

XXXX

"Gordon, I'm giving your client an opportunity here, one that I don't think either of you should be so quick to turn down."

"You want him to plead to manslaughter and roll on the mother when he didn't even do anything!" Gordon Schell shook his head. "That's nonsense."

"No," Ben replied, "what's nonsense is the fact that your client stood by and watched while Callie Watkins mother abused her for over seven months and did nothing about it. He could have saved that child's life and he chose not to."

"He never laid a hand on the girl and you want him to go to jail for nine years?"

"If the jury don't believe his story, he'll be going to jail for a hell of a lot longer than that!"

It was day four of the Watkins murder trial and almost the end of the people's case. Much to Danielle Melnick's chagrin, Ben had added Alice Watkins to the indictment based on the medical evidence available, but as the case had progressed, it had become more obvious that Thomas Finch, though hardly innocent in the whole affair, had not struck the fatal blow to the little girl and Alice's facade as the grieving mother had started to crack.

Gordon sighed heavily. "Nine years though, Ben?"

"It's the best I can do, Gordon. Failing that, he takes his chances."

"Give me five minutes with him."

Gordon hurried away leaving Ben standing on the rotunda balcony looking down at all the people milling about. It had been a difficult trial, perhaps even more so for the fact that every time he looked at pictures of Callie Watkins, he saw Pamela when she was that age. Innocent, defenceless...it made him angry to think how any parent could treat their own flesh and blood so despicably.

"You're offering Finch a deal?" He turned back to see Danielle's glaring face behind him. "Are you out of your mind?"

"No, but your client is if she thinks she's winning any sympathy with the jury."

"Finch has a history of domestic abuse..."

"Which is not admissible here, as you yourself argued at pre-trial." Ben sighed. "Your client killed her daughter, Danielle. She beat her and she didn't care about the consequences."

"Then give her manslaughter one."

Ben shook his head. "Depraved indifference to human life is murder two."

"She takes the stand and she'll have the jury in tears."

"Not if Finch testifies against her and given that he's looking at twenty five years, I think he'll take the deal."

"I can't believe you're doing this," Danielle said angrily. "If you still had that woman as your assistant, instead of that idiot of a new guy, I doubt you would be going down this route."

Before he could reply, she stormed back into the courtroom and he couldn't help thinking that she was at least right on one point, and not the one about Evelyn.

"We'll take the deal," Gordon came back out of the room. "But I want it in writing before he testifies."

Ben nodded. "Your client's made a wise decision."

"Did he really have any other choice?"

"No, he really didn't."

XXXX

"Well, well, well...when I saw your name on the list of interviewees for today I thought there had to be some mistake and yet...here you are."

Evelyn got to her feet and tried to keep her face as pleasant as she possibly could. "Ms Green. I didn't know that you would be conducting the interviews today."

"One of the many problems facing our understaffed and underfunded public defenders office," Shambala said. "Would you like to come through?" Without waiting for a response, she turned and made her way through a set of swing doors, forcing Evelyn to jog to catch up with her.

The place was busy and crowded, even more so than the DA's office had ever been. Phones were ringing, people were shouting...it was nothing short of chaos and when they eventually arrived in, what she assumed, was Shambala's office, she found herself slightly taken aback at the mountains of files on the desk and floor, many threatening to spill their contents.

"As you can see, we're a busy office," Shambala moved some files from a chair and bade Evelyn to sit down. "So..." she sat down opposite the desk and fixed her with a knowing look. "Why do you want to work here?"

Evelyn knew that the right thing to say was that she wanted to strive for justice, help the poor and disenfranchised and make a difference in society, but something in the other woman's expression made her think that that was exactly what she expected her to say, so she decided to tell the truth instead. "Because I need a job."

Shambala raised her eyebrows, "Hardly the standard answer."

"I guess I'm not your standard interviewee."

"No..." she looked down at what Evelyn assumed was a copy of her CV. "Top of your class at Princeton, two years clerking for Judge Hammersmith, then onto Burns & Company before a short tenure at the DA's office. I would have thought you would have loftier ambitions than legal aid."

"Like I said, I need a job and...somehow...there doesn't seem to be a lot of firms hiring right now."

"Funny that. I saw three adverts for three fairly large private firms the other day."

"Well..." Evelyn took a breath, "maybe they're just not looking to hire me." It was an understatement if ever she had made one. Of all the firms she had written to seeking employment, only half had given her the courtesy of a reply. Of those, a third had given her an outright rejection and she was fairly convinced that the other two thirds had only called her for interview to gawk at her before politely declining. She knew she could hardly be surprised, after all, Edward's arrest had been big news in the legal community.

"We have a tough case load here, as you can see," Shambala said. "We don't get to pick and choose our clients, we take what comes along. We do night arraignment, holidays and we're encouraged to plead out as much as we can. If we do get to trial, we have little money for expensive experts. In short...things are very much not in our favour."

"I understand that."

The other woman's eyes flickered over her, "And I wouldn't expect any special favours from Ben Stone, regardless of the fact that you were his...assistant."

"I wouldn't expect any," Evelyn replied. "If anything, he'd probably be more likely not to do me any favours. Ben's big on perception and he would hate anyone to think he wasn't being fair to every defence attorney."

Shambala sat back in her chair. "Give me one good reason why I should hire you."

Evelyn got to her feet. "Hire me, or don't hire me Ms Green, I really don't care, but I'm not about to stand here and dance like a puppet for you. I'm not fresh out of law school. I've been an attorney since before you left high school so, you've had your little power trip and, on that note, I'll thank you for the interview and take my leave."

"Mrs Burns," Shambala stopped her as she reached for the door handle and she turned back, a neutral expression on her face. "When can you start?"

XXXX

"The public defenders' office?" Ben appeared in the kitchen doorway. "You're not serious."

"I'm completely serious, Ben. She offered me the job and I took it. I don't exactly have a lot of options right now. Even with the money I'm getting from Edward I still need an income." Evelyn put the cutlery down on the dining table. "Besides, I think it's a good move for me. I only ever worked defence at Eddie's company and it was all wealthy, private clients. This way, I'll get to see things in the raw."

"And that's what you want?"

"In an ideal world, maybe not, but this isn't an ideal world and beggars can't be choosers."

"I told you before that I would help you out if you needed it."

"And that was very sweet of you but I don't want you paying my way. I have to be able to do it myself. Anyway, I start tomorrow. Hitting the ground running, as they say."

"Well, if you're sure..." he said, in a tone that indicated that he was less than sure.

"I'm sure," she moved over to him and slid her arms around his waist. "Though Shambala did say that I shouldn't expect any special favours from you just because we used to work together."

"Oh did she now?" he looked down at her, "And what did you say to that?"

"I said that given you were so concerned with people's perception that it wouldn't be a problem. It won't be, will it?"

"Depends on what sort of favour you ask for. Legal or...uh...sexual."

She laughed and kissed him, "Well I certainly wasn't going to tell her that. Anyway, you took a plea in the Watkins case?"

Ben nodded, "Finch pled to manslaughter one and testified against Alice. Danielle did her best, but I have a feeling that the jury are going to convict tomorrow after closing arguments."

"And how are things going with Kevin?"

Ben made a face and turned back to the kitchen. "Don't talk to me about that man. I don't know where Adam found him but, quite frankly, he's incompetent."

"He's young. What is he, twenty five?"

"Twenty seven and, I swear, he doesn't know a felony from a misdemeanour."

Evelyn smiled to herself. Kevin Clifton had been working as Ben's new assistant for the best part of two weeks and he hadn't had a decent word to say about him in all that time. Her own ego wanted to believe that he was just missing her but, having seen a brief that he had written the previous week on a homicide case, she had to agree that he wasn't exactly Clarence Darrow. "I guess Adam's hoping that you'll take him under your wing, nurture him."

"Evelyn, I don't have time to nurture anyone," Ben replied. "I've got cases coming out of my ears. Once this trial is over, I've got two more sitting waiting, not to mention arraignments, pleas and I'm still fighting with Arthur Gold over Patrick Lehrman."

"I thought you filed an application to vacate his sentence?" she asked, carrying the plates through to the living room.

"I did but Gold opposed it and now we have a hearing on it next week." Ben shook his head. "Can we talk about something other than work?"

"Of course."

They ate in silence for a while before he spoke again. "I talked to Laura today. The kids are going to come down this weekend."

"That's good. It's been a while since you've seen them."

"Too long," he said. "I...uh...I was hoping that I could introduce you to them."

Evelyn paused and looked at him, "Do you think that's wise?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well..." she chose her words carefully. "We've only been together a few weeks and...it's not exactly common knowledge..."

"So?"

"So, don't you think we should wait a bit longer? You know, until things are a bit more...stable?"

Ben put his cutlery down and looked squarely at her, "You don't think we're stable?"

"That's not what I meant..."

"I'm serious about you and I thought you were serious about me."

"I am," she reached over and put her hand on his arm, "of course I am but..." she fought for the right explanation. "There's so much going on right now. I've got this new job, Jack wants to start trial prep next week and...it might just be better to wait a while, that's all. Besides, don't you think you should be focusing on building your relationship with them before you start introducing a new girlfriend? They might not take it well."

"But it's all right for Laura to introduce them to a new guy and practically move him in?"

"It's not a competition, Ben."

"I know that!" he snapped and she looked away. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you. It's just that...you're the best thing that has happened to me in a long time, regardless of what else is going on and...I guess I want them to know that."

"And I understand that," she replied, feeling a rush of love for him. "But I still think we should take it slowly as far as the kids are concerned. Look, Jack reckons that we're going to get a date for trial in November, unless Eddie takes a plea which I doubt. Hopefully it'll all be over by Thanksgiving and maybe we could do something about it then."

Ben nodded and, reaching over, pushed her hair behind her ear. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"I just hope you survive until November."

She frowned, "What does that mean?"

"I don't know...you and Shambala Green working together? Something tells me that one of you won't make it out alive."

XXXX

"Urgh, I'm bored and I'm starving. Dad, can't we go yet?" Pamela flopped herself down on the couch in dramatic fashion and sighed heavily. "You promised us ice cream."

"I just need five minutes to finish this," Ben replied distractedly from across the room where he had been going over a brief written by Kevin that was worse than anything he'd ever read in his life. "And watch your arm. You only got the cast off last week."

"But it's Saturday night and Mom said that you weren't supposed to work when we were here," Pamela protested, ignoring his last comment. "She said you were supposed to make it up to us."

Ben paused, "Make it up to you?"

"Pamela, shut up," Peter said from where he was lounging on the floor reading a magazine. "Mom didn't say that."

"Yes she did."

"No she didn't!"

"She did, Peter!"

"Ok, ok, enough!" Ben got to his feet. "You wanted to go to Aldo's, right?"

"Yes!" Pamela leapt up. "And I know exactly what I want when I get there!"

"Fine, then let's go. Peter, are you coming?"

He rolled his eyes, "Do I have to?"

"No, but you can't stay here by yourself so it's either ice cream or you sit outside the diner and watch your sister eat it, so what's it going to be?"

Peter threw down his magazine, "Fine, I'll come."

Twenty minutes later, they were ensconced in a booth at Aldo's Parlour around the corner from the apartment and, though he'd given the impression he didn't want to go with them, Ben couldn't help but notice that Peter was enthusiastically attacking his chocolate sundae. The frozen dessert appeared to have rendered both of his children speechless and, he had to admit, the silence wasn't entirely unwelcome. If anything, it made him reflect on what Pamela had said about Laura. It irked him to think that she had been making comments about his input as a father in front of them and it still smarted whenever he thought of what she had said to him that night at the hospital.

"I love ice cream," Pamela said happily, licking her spoon. "I wish I could have it every day."

"Then you'd end up fat," Peter commented. "Well, fatter than you already are that is."

Pamela looked affronted, "Dad!"

"Peter, apologise to your sister."

"Why? It's true."

"It was unkind," Ben said, "and it most certainly was not true." He smiled at his daughter just as the door of the parlour opened and a tinkle of familiar sounding laughter reached his ears. Following the noise, he saw Elizabeth and Mike step inside, holding hands, their bodies close together, her face upturned towards his as they shared a private joke. He hoped for a moment that they wouldn't see him, but as she turned to grab a menu, Elizabeth met his gaze and paused.

They hadn't spoken since that day at her office, although he knew from conversation with Claire that she was aware Evelyn had moved on. When he thought about their last conversation, it brought him no pleasure and he regretted what he had implied about her professional relationship with Mike, but now certainly wasn't the time to revisit it. She said something to Mike and he followed her gaze, only to smile and wave when he saw them. Despite Elizabeth looking as though she wanted to stop him, he ambled over to them.

"These your kids, counsellor?" he asked, good-naturedly.

"Uh, yes this is Peter and Pamela," Ben replied. "This is Mike. He's a police officer that I work with sometimes."

"Hello," Pamela said, eyeing him slightly suspiciously.

"Do you have a gun?" Peter asked.

"Uh..." Mike laughed, "Hello and, yes I do usually, but not tonight." Peter sagged, clearly disappointed by the answer. "That sundae looks amazing," he directed his comment to Pamela.

"It is," she nodded. "Amazing."

Ben looked past him to where Elizabeth was hovering slightly. "Liz."

"Ben." She looked slightly uncomfortable. "Not with Evelyn tonight?"

He wasn't sure if she had meant it as a dig or not, but he kept his expression as pleasant as possible under the circumstances. "No."

"Who's Evelyn?" Pamela asked, her eyes swivelling to him.

"She's a friend of mine," he replied carefully.

"A girlfriend?" Peter asked, perceptive as ever. "Do you have a girlfriend, Dad?"

"Uh...perhaps we should leave you to it," Mike said. "Enjoy your ice cream." He placed his hand on the small of Elizabeth's back and guided her back to the counter, Ben letting out a long breath as he did so.

"Dad." Peter was staring at him now. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Would that bother you?"

Peter shrugged, "Guess not."

"Is she your girlfriend?" Pamela asked, wide-eyed. "Evelyn?"

"She's a friend and she's a girl. A woman."

"So you have a woman friend."

Ben winced. It sounded even worse when put like that. "She's just a friend, Pamela. Let's leave it at that."

"Ok," she acquiesced easily and dug back into her ice cream. "Mom and Mark sleep in the same bed."

"Well, that's up to them," Ben said, glancing at Peter who was now deliberately not looking at him. Perhaps Evelyn had been right. Perhaps it would be too soon.

When they got back to the apartment, the kids switched on the television and lost themselves in some show that he had no interest in. Instead, he stretched the phone cord as far as it reached into the kitchen and dialled her number.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Hey," she said warmly. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," he replied. "Kids have had ice cream and they'll be going to bed soon, I hope. I just...wanted to hear your voice."

"Is that your woman friend, Dad?" Pamela shouted from the couch.

"Your woman friend?" Evelyn echoed.

Ben sighed, "It's a long story. A really long story."

Chapter Text

October 1993

Two weeks later

"Thanks for coming in," Jack said, pulling out a chair for her at the table. "I hope I haven't dragged you away from anything important."

"No, it's fine," Evelyn replied, sitting down. "Although I do have to be in court at two."

"It shouldn't take long." Jack sat down opposite her, Claire at his side. "I spoke with Adele Diamond earlier, Edward's attorney."

"And?"

"And he wants to come in for a talk."

Evelyn paused and looked between them both, "A talk about what?"

"We're not sure," Claire replied. "We think maybe he wants to discuss a plea."

"I can't imagine him wanting to do that. Are you sure it's not his attorney that's pushing it?"

"No," Jack shook his head. "If anything, she didn't sound too pleased about it. It all seems to be coming from him." He paused. "The reason I wanted you to come in was because I wanted to know how you would feel if we did agree on a plea bargain."

She looked down at the mahogany shined table top, the city skyline reflected in it, and thought about his question, the same one she had asked herself countless time since it had all begun. How would she feel? Not having to testify would be a good thing, but then no-one would really every know everything that had happened to her. Maybe that in itself was a good thing too, but in any plea bargain there had to be mutual consideration. What did he have? What could he possibly think was worth the DA's office dropping some of the charges?

"Evelyn?"

She looked up again. "Sorry, I just...I guess it would depend on the plea."

Jack nodded, "Well, you know what the charges are. He's facing a long time in prison if he's convicted, but even with a plea he's still going to be doing some serious time. At the moment, I'm not persuaded that we should be dropping any of the rape charges and that's twenty-five to life alone."

"At the moment," Evelyn echoed, "but you haven't heard what he has to say yet."

"That's true."

"Do you have any idea what it might be?" Claire asked.

Evelyn paused and then nodded, "The Lucchese family."

Jack frowned, "What about them?"

"Eddie told me that night at the 2-7 that the reason he couldn't give me any money in the divorce was because he had made investments in a restaurant fronted by the family. He said he had given them fifty thousand, then another hundred thousand and that they had holds over all the rest of his...our...money. He seemed agitated about it, but we never really got any further into it before he attacked me so..." she trailed off, remembering what Veronica had told her a few weeks earlier. "My divorce attorney told me that Eddie's divorce attorney had said he seemed scared, but he didn't know what of."

"He might want to name names," Jack mused.

"He should join the queue," Evelyn said. "Ben's been doing that dance with Arthur Gold over Patrick Lehrman for months now."

"The money laundering trial?" Evelyn nodded. "Has he given any names?"

"Not yet. There was a hearing a couple of weeks ago though. Ben filed a motion to vacate Lehrman's sentence given that he hadn't held up his end of the plea bargain. It was refused but I'm pretty sure he's going to appeal. You should talk to him."

"I will." He turned to Claire. "When did Diamond say she wanted to bring Edward in?"

"As soon as possible."

"Ok, set it up." Jack turned back to Evelyn. "Obviously, we won't be accepting any deal until we've spoken to you."

"I appreciate that," Evelyn glanced at her watch, seeking an excuse to get away. "I really have to go, I'm late already."

"Thanks for coming in." Jack stood up. "How is the new job going anyway?"

"Well..." she paused at the door, "it's never dull. I'll say that."

XXXX

The afternoon arraignment court was full to bursting when Evelyn arrived but, fortunately, her client Rodrigo Esparza was one of the first to be called. A thirty five year old Hispanic male, he had been caught red handed attempting a car-jacking with a nine millimetre, but had vociferously denied any wrongdoing during interview and was determined to plead not guilty. The hearing went quickly, he was granted bail of one hundred thousand dollars which, in all likelihood, he would never raise, and quickly despatched to the holding cells for the bus to Rikers. It was straightforward, what she had been hoping for, given that her mind was so far from the job she might as well not even have been there.

As she gathered up her file and thought fleetingly about all of the other ones sitting back on her new desk, she caught sight of Shambala hurrying into the room towards her and she had a sudden feeling she was about to brought back to the present with a bump.

"Thank God you're still here," she said, tossing another file at her. "I need you to cover this arraignment for me."

"What, now?"

"No, next Tuesday. Yes now! His name is Darnell Dorkins, he's up next. Plead him not guilty. I have to go. I've got an emergency hearing with Judge Stein. Thanks!"

"Shambala..." but she was gone, lost in the crowds, and the clerk was reading out the next docket.

"Docket number 6507, people versus Darnell Dorkins. Charges are murder in the second degree, assault in the first degree, robbery in the first degree."

A young black man was led up to the table and Judge Banks looked at him over his glasses. "Are you represented by counsel, young man?"

"Yes Your Honour," Evelyn said, hurrying up to stand beside him. "Apologies..." she glanced quickly through the file and found a copy of the charges and an indecipherable piece of paper scrawled with Shambala's handwriting.

"You ain't my lawyer," Darnell said, turning to her in disgust. "I had the black lady. Where's she at?"

"Ms Green had to attend another hearing..." Evelyn murmured. "But it's fine, I can represent you for this arraignment."

"I don't want no white bitch," Darnell said, "I want the black lady!"

"Can we get a plea?" Judge Banks asked, looking thoroughly bored.

"Not guilty!" Darnell shouted.

"People on bail."

"Uh...your Honour the...the people consider that...uh...Mr Dorkins should be...uh...held without...without bail given the...uh...serious nature of the crime..."

The nervous voice of the people's representative caused Evelyn to look up from where she had been trying to read Shambala's notes only for her gaze to rest upon a young man who could only be the infamous Kevin Clifton.

"Any other reason?"

"Uh...well..." he looked down at his own notes. "Mr...uh..Mr Dorkins has a long record of violence Your Honour and...uh..."

"Mrs Burns?" Judge Banks turned to her before Kevin had finished his sentence.

"My client is a young man with close ties to the community," she replied. "He may have a record but unless the people can show that he has failed to appear for any hearing in the past, then I don't see how remand is appropriate here."

"Mr Clifton?"

Kevin gawped at the judge and then at Evelyn before furiously flicking through his paperwork.

"I'm not going to remand Mr Dorkins based on the people's clear lack of information," Judge Banks said, "but clearly bail is an issue here."

"High bail would be a significant hardship, your Honour," Evelyn said.

"Never let it be said I'm not sympathetic to the economically disadvantaged. Bail is set at fifty thousand dollars, cash or bond. Next case!"

"I don't know you," Darnell said, as he was led towards the holding cell. "I want the black lady!"

"You're welcome," Evelyn replied under her breath as Kevin made to sidle past her. "Oh, Mr Clifton?" He turned to her, a surprised look on his face. "I'm Evelyn Burns with the PD's office. Can you make sure you send us over all the voluntary disclosure forms as soon as possible please?"

"Oh..uh...yes, voluntary disclosure forms...sure."

Boy, she thought to herself as he practically ran out of the courtroom. Ben wasn't kidding.

XXXX

She was aroused, he could tell that much. Her nipples were hard, she was groaning softly and there was a welcome slickness between her legs, but he had been working her far longer than it normally took to bring her to orgasm and there wasn't even so much as a flutter to indicate that she was anywhere close. He slid another finger inside her and kissed up her body but, if anything, her passion started to dissipate rather than increase and he finally had to admit that he might be defeated.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked softly. Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him with a look he would almost have described as fearful. "It doesn't seem as though you're enjoying it much."

"I..."

"It's all right," he slid his hand up her belly. "I don't mind." In reality, he did mind a little. It had been four days since they had last seen each other properly, let alone been to bed together, a distance borne out of long hours and exhaustion for both of them, and when she had arrived at his apartment that evening it had been all he could do to get through dinner without grabbing her. But he wasn't about to tell her that.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I want to. It's just..."

"Don't worry."

"You can still do it if you want," she widened her legs and put her hand on his back as though to guide him between them, but the very words, and her expression, were enough to physically deflate him.

"Is that what you used to say to Edward?" he said without thinking. Her face clouded over and she quickly drew her hand back, closed her legs and rolled onto her side away from him. "I'm sorry," he said, immediately flooded with guilt. "I didn't mean..."

"Why did you have to bring him up?" she asked. "Does he have to invade our bed as well as everything else in our lives?"

"I'm sorry," he said again, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her back against him, his mouth finding her neck. She didn't resist, but he felt her tense at his touch. "I shouldn't have mentioned it, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"To answer your question, no, I didn't. I didn't have to say anything. He didn't want my consent, remember?" He said nothing, simply waited for her to say whatever it was that had been playing on her mind that evening, for there had definitely been something. For all of his restrained desire, she had seemed preoccupied...distant...so unlike herself of late. He didn't have to wait too long. "I spoke to Jack today. He said that Eddie wanted to come in for a meeting."

It all started to make sense. "Jack thinks he wants to make a deal?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. I told him about Eddie's involvement with the Lucchese family. I said that was the only thing I could think of that he might have to barter with."

"And what did he say?"

"That he's not prepared to drop any of the rape charges at the moment..."

"But?"

She rolled over onto her back and looked up at him. "If it was you prosecuting and someone, not necessarily Eddie, said they would give you the Luccheses', would you really say no over some...domestic rape charge?"

"You forget I've already been there," he reminded her.

"I know, I told him about Gold." She paused. "You didn't answer my question."

He sighed, "Being able to pin something on the family...it's what every prosecutor wants and if there's a deal to be done and it spares you the pain of having to testify..."

"You think I couldn't do it?"

"No, I know you could do it...I just don't want you to have to."

"So...you think he should take whatever deal Eddie offers?"

Ben looked down at her, unsure exactly what it was she wanted him to say. Did she want him to say no, that Edward should have to stand trial on every charge and, hopefully, be convicted of everything that he did to her, or did she want him to say that he wouldn't want her to go through the agony of it and that something was better than nothing? "It's not fair to ask me that," he said, stroking her hair gently.

"Why not?" she persisted.

"Because I can't be objective, much as I'd like to think I could be. As a prosecutor, I want to publicly nail the bastard for all of it, but as the man that's in love with you...I want to protect you from all that a trial involves."

She reached up and touched his face gently, then raised herself up to kiss him once, twice, three times, each one growing in intensity until she rolled him over onto his back and climbed on top of him.

Almost to his embarrassment, he hardened again instantly, his hands going to her breasts even as he weakly protested. "Evelyn, we don't have to..."

"Sssshhh..." she lowered herself down, gasping as she encased him inside her, and reached for the headboard behind him. "I was pretty close before...I can get there...just let me..."

So he did and as they came, almost simultaneously, he couldn't help thinking it was the best damn orgasm of his life so far.

XXXX

Jesus...what the hell was in that sandwich?

Evelyn flushed the toilet again and sat on the floor until she felt the cold sweat start to evaporate and her vision to return to normal. The feeling of intense nausea had swept over as she had been riding the elevator to the sixth floor and it had only been through sheer good fortune that she had managed to make it to the restroom in time.

It was three days since Darnell had been arraigned and, after much cajoling of the DA's office, she had finally received the information from Kevin that she had been waiting for. She couldn't believe how easily she had fallen back into defence attorney mode and as soon as she had finished, she had called Ben and told him that they needed to meet.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the stall door and, like a newly born baby animal taking its first steps, stumbled over to the sink. Her reflection depicted a pale and blotchy face and she scrambled around in her bag for some concealer and blusher to make herself look more presentable before seeing him. The last thing she needed was for their first professional meeting as opposing counsel to be marred by him thinking something was wrong.

Finally satisfied, she opened the restroom door and made her way slowly along the corridor to his office, knocking when she reached it and waiting for him to grant her entry.

"You don't have to knock," he said good-naturedly when she opened the door.

"I figured it was best to start as we mean to go on," she replied.

He took off his glasses and peered at her, "Are you ok?"

Damn it. "Fine," she said, sitting down. "It's just been a busy morning. So...Mr Dorkins."

"Very business-like," he quipped.

She tried, and failed to smother a smile. "Mr Dorkins."

"Uh...Mr Dorkins, the Mr Dorkins who's looking at spending the better part of his life in jail, that Mr Dorkins."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I was looking over the discovery and..."

"And..."

"And the cops didn't have a warrant when they searched his mother's house for the gun."

Ben ambled over and perched himself on the edge of the table above her. "They didn't need a warrant. They had his mother's consent."

"Yes, but she doesn't own the property," Evelyn reached into her bag and pulled out a tenancy agreement. "The lease of the property is in my client's name because of his mother's bad credit. She couldn't consent to the search, he certainly wouldn't have if he'd been asked so...they should have had a warrant."

"Which they would have almost certainly got had they applied for one," Ben said, putting on his glasses again and looking at the document.

"But they didn't. So, the gun was illegally obtained and is, ergo, inadmissible."

"His prints were found on the gun..."

"No, a partial thumbprint was found on the handle, that's it."

"Still a print," he smiled boyishly at her.

"Still not enough," she replied.

"There is also CCTV from the store which shows..."

"Which shows someone dressed in black threatening the owner with a gun, hitting said owner with said gun and taking a sum of money." She sat back and crossed her legs. "Come on Ben, you can't even tell what race the person is, let alone that it's Mr Dorkins."

He cocked his head on one side, "You're incredibly sexy when you're arguing with me like this."

She smiled and got to her feet. "I hope you find these sexy too." Reaching into her case again, she pulled out two other bundles of papers. "Motion to suppress the gun and motion to dismiss. Judge Barry, ten am tomorrow morning."

"Hmm..." he tossed the motions onto the table and slid his hands onto her waist, pulling her between his legs. "Maybe you could go over the finer legal points of both these motions with me later tonight."

"Maybe I could, but we're rivals now, remember? Opposing counsel, adversaries and I wouldn't like to give away any of my secrets."

"And you think I'd be able to make you do that?" he pressed his face gently into her neck and softly kissed her.

She shuddered slightly at the sensation, feeling the familiar, welcome dampness between her thighs. "Oh I think I'd put up a good fight but...somehow I find it very hard to resist you." Poised to kiss him in response, the sound of a sharp knock at the door caused them to spring apart and Claire stepped in, looking apologetic.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said.

"It's fine," Ben said, walking around to his own side of the desk again. "Something you need?"

"Uh, someone actually," she looked at Evelyn. "Jack wondered if you would be free for a word."

The nausea suddenly returned and Evelyn found herself lightly holding on to the back of the chair for support. "Is it about Eddie?"

Claire nodded, "Yes. He came in yesterday and Jack wants to talk to you about what was discussed."

Her eyes swivelled to Ben, "Do you...do you have time...?"

"Of course," he said, coming back over to her and placing his hand lightly on her back. "Jack's office?"

"Yes."

"Ok."

Evelyn took a deep breath and allowed him to gently propel her out of his office and down the hall towards Jack's. She longed to be able to run back to the restroom and get back onto her knees, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other until they reached their destination. Whatever was causing her to feel this way, anxiety over the case or food poisoning, she was certainly never setting foot in that deli again.

Chapter Text

She could hear their voices swirling around her and yet it was all she could do to keep herself oriented to time and place. Elizabeth had told her at one of her sessions that if she ever felt panicked or anxious, she should focus on her breathing, in and out, in and out...hopefully the advice could work for nausea too.

"Two assaults?" Ben said incredulously. "That's all?"

Jack nodded. "The one at the 2-7 and the one at the Algonquin. He said he was willing to do four years and surrender his licence to practice law."

"I hope you told him where he could stick his offer."

"I did, within the norms of polite conversation."

"What did he say about the Luccheses'?"

"Nothing," Claire said. "He never brought them up."

The remark brought Evelyn up sharp, and she turned from where she had been standing near the door, her head clearing slightly as she started to focus. "So what did he have to trade if not them?"

"He gave us a bunch of names, people he knows who have done bad things and if we do a little investigating he can join the dots and get us some convictions..." Claire trailed off, clearly unconvinced. "He just about broke out in a cold sweat when we mentioned the Luccheses' though. So did his lawyer. I don't think she has a clue about any of that."

"I told him that if he wants to come back with a better offer, the door's open," Jack said. "But I don't think he will."

"How did he seem to you?" Ben asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, was he nervous, arrogant...?"

Jack paused, "In all honesty, he seemed pretty nervous. But when we told him that his offer was unacceptable...well...the word bitch was mentioned a few times."

"No doubt referring to me," Evelyn said softly. "In his mind, it will always...always be my fault somehow."

Jack stepped over to stand in front of her. "The calendar's been published for next month. We've drawn Judge Mooney and we're due to start November 18th."

Evelyn suddenly felt her heart start to pound and her throat go dry. "That's less than three weeks from now."

"I know." He paused. "You're absolutely sure you want to go through with this."

The question threw her slightly. "Aren't you?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, Evelyn. It's going to be a difficult trial both emotionally and in terms of the evidence. A lot of the charges are going to come down to his word against yours, especially the sexual ones..."

"You said you weren't willing to drop any of those charges."

"I'm not..."

"You don't think I can do it."

"We know you can do it, Evelyn," Claire reassured her. "We just don't want you to be under any illusions about how tough it's going to be."

Evelyn turned to look at her. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't wonder every day how I'm going to feel when I'm on the stand telling everyone what he did to me? You think I don't worry about what people are going to think when they hear it?"

"That should be the least of your concerns," Ben said gently.

"Should it?" she turned to him. "You'll be there, won't you? Are you ready to hear it all?"

"I'm ready to be there for you," he said, taking her hands in his. "That's all I care about."

She looked at him, so convinced, so earnest...and her heart overflowed with feelings for him, feelings that she had never once felt for Edward. She kept waiting for the bubble to burst, for him to realise that he actually didn't want her, that all of her baggage was just too much for him to carry along with his own. But it seemed so matter how hard she pushed, he didn't want to go away. What had she done to deserve him in her life?

"We still need a few more prep sessions," Jack broke into her thoughts. "Can you be available over the next week or so?"

"Of course," she nodded, her eyes still on Ben. "I'm ready."

XXXX

"You look like shit," Shambala commented when she got back to the office.

"Thanks," Evelyn hung her coat on the stand and tossed her briefcase onto her desk, knowing the other woman was right but not enjoying having it pointed out to her. When she had left the DA's office, she had taken herself for a coffee and a donut, hoping that it might alleviate how she was feeling. Whilst the nausea had quietened down upon the application of sugar, she still felt anxious about everything. "You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"How did it go?"

"He only offered to plead to two assault charges. Two assault charges...after everything that bastard has put me through..." she broke off at the look on the other woman's face. "Oh...sorry, you were talking about Darnell."

"Yes I was, but...if you need to talk about something else..."

"No, no it's fine," Evelyn said. Thinking constantly about Eddie and the trial was doing her no good whatsoever and even though they had been working together now for a number of weeks, she was still relatively unsure about her new colleague and whether she wanted her as a confidante. "Uh...I told Ben about the issue and he tried to argue that it was a good search but...I think Judge Barry will grant both motions tomorrow. If she does, Darnell's a lucky boy."

"Or an innocent boy."

"Come on Shambala, you don't believe that any more than I do." She sat down at her desk and looked over her messages, but the words blurred in front of her as the room tilted with the return of the nausea. "Jesus...have you ever eaten anything from the deli on Columbus?"

"Sure, plenty times, why?"

"I don't know. I had a sandwich there earlier and I've been feeling sick as a dog ever since."

"Dodgy mayo?"

"Maybe..." she sat forward and put her head in her hands.

"On the other hand, maybe you're pregnant."

"Very funny."

"I'm a laugh a minute," Shambala quipped. "That is, when I'm not late for a hearing with Judge Bertram. I'd better run. Water and dry crackers, I'm telling you."

"Thanks for the tip," Evelyn replied as the door closed behind her. She rubbed her hands over her face, let out a long breath and sat back in her chair. Trust Shambala to come up with the most ridiculous reason for the onset of sudden nausea. It was a good thing she had kept the symptoms to herself earlier, lest everyone in the DA's office had jumped to the same conclusion. Lord, she could only have imagined Ben's face...

Opening her eyes, she reached into her desk for her diary, ostensibly to list the hearing set down for the following morning and to note November 18th as the first day of Eddie's trial, but as she leafed through the pages, something else caught her eye, or rather...the lack of something else did.

She flicked back, searching for it. She had always been meticulous in noting it. Twenty five years of attending a gynaecologist, four miscarriages and a history of heavy bleeds meant it had become like second nature. But as she looked back through September and August, she realised it was missing. The little red cross. The one she always noted on the first day of her period.

Ok...maybe you just forgot to note it down. There's been a lot going on, what with Eddie and Ben...and you were attacked, for God's sake. Stress can do funny things to a person's body too, you know that...don't panic.

"Don't panic..." she said the words out loud as though it would make a difference, but even as she tried to stay calm, she felt her chest tighten and her breathing grow shallow. Pregnant..she couldn't be. Her pill had been religiously swallowed daily since leaving Eddie and Ben had worn a condom most...well...some of the time. "Oh God..." she breathed. "How could you have been so stupid...?" Instantly, she was back there...back to the last time, the very last time when she had told him. The look on his face...the shouting...the anger...his hands on her shoulders pushing her...she closed her eyes again and when she opened them she could feel the smart of tears.

XXXX

"Is she strong enough, that's what I want to know?"

"Of course she's strong enough."

Adam shook his head, "You're biased."

Ben paused, unsure how to answer that point...unconvinced how much Adam really knew. "She's ready to do this, Adam."

"Yeah..." the other man leaned back in his chair. "It's not going to be easy for her."

"She knows that."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Is Jack going to call you as a witness?"

"For what happened at the Algonquin?" Adam nodded. "I don't know yet. Maybe. He certainly can't call himself."

"No..." Adam mused. "It'll certainly have a hell of an impact on the jury when they hear that the lead prosecutor punched the defendant in the face."

"He reacted as any of us would have in the circumstances," Ben said, still slightly aggrieved that he hadn't had the presence of mind to do what Jack had done himself. "He was defending her."

"I know that and you know that, but will a jury be able to see that?"

"Adam, by the time the case gets that far, they are going to hate Edward Burns just as much as we all do," Ben said. "Jack'll be a hero to them."

"Hmm..." Adam said. "I wish I shared your confidence."

XXXX

"...and what with the budget cuts again this year, we really need to take a closer look at all of the extra work we're doing. Now, I'm not saying we don't defend our clients to the best of our abilities, but what I am saying..."

Evelyn wasn't listening. She knew she wasn't. Derek Haston had been talking for the last twenty minutes about budget cuts and the effect on legal aid at the monthly meeting and, as a relatively new member of staff, she knew she should have been paying attention, taking in what he was saying, thinking for herself about how she could do her job effectively with less money, but her mind was so far from the subject. Instead, it was firmly focused on the home pregnancy test sitting in her desk drawer. The one she had run out to the nearest drugstore to buy. The one she had taken right before the meeting. The one with the two lines...

Across the table, she could see Shambala looking at her, a concerned expression on her face and she tried to look interested in what was being said, tried to push her own personal issues to the back of her mind, but it was impossible.

She was pregnant...with Ben's child. A man she knew well and yet didn't. A man she loved and who she knew loved her and yet...a baby? The very thought would have made her laugh if it wasn't so...what was she going to do? How could she tell him? What was she supposed to say? What would he say?

Around her, people started getting to their feet and she realised that the meeting had concluded. Getting to her feet, she tried to leave quickly, to get back to the safe solitude of her office, but she wasn't quick enough. Shambala fell into step beside her as they stepped out into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked. "Only you looked as though you were going to faint at various points during that meeting. I know Derek is, possibly, the most boring man on the earth but..."

"I'm fine," she replied. "It's just..."

"The dodgy mayo?"

"Something like that." They reached her office and Evelyn made to go inside and close the door, but the other woman was too quick for her and slid in behind her.

"It's not the sandwich, is it?" she asked, closing the door. "I was right earlier, wasn't I? You are pregnant."

Before she could stop herself, Evelyn collapsed into her chair and burst into tears. Life could be so unfair sometimes.

Shambala stepped around the pile of files on the floor and crouched in front of her. "Is it Ben's?"

"Of course it's Ben's!" Evelyn snapped, realising too late that rather than simply defend her fidelity she had, in fact, confirmed a rumour.

"Does he know?"

"No, I just took the test before the meeting."

Shambala let out a long breath and sat down on the floor at her feet. "How do you feel about it?"

"How do I feel...?" Evelyn shook her head at how simple, and yet complex, a question it was. "I've had...four miscarriages in fifteen years and...and I wanted every single one of those babies, despite who their father was."

"And do you want this one, knowing who its father is?"

"The chances of this pregnancy going full term..." She closed her eyes again, trying to block out the image of Eddie's angry face, aware she had avoided answering.

"Just because you had four miscarriages with him doesn't mean that this one won't work out. Do you have any idea how far along you are?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe eight weeks?"

"Then you still have a little bit of time to think about what you want to do." Shambala paused. "Do you think Ben would want it, if he knew?"

"Ben..." she put her head in her hands. "Ben has been...so good to me and now..." she rubbed her face. "He's older than me and he already has two kids, teenagers at that...is he really going to want to go back to dirty diapers and sleepless nights...?

"Well for one thing, he's as much to blame for this as you are and for another...don't you think you should give him the chance to make that choice for himself?"

"And what do I do, Shambala, if he makes the choice and tells me he doesn't want it?" Evelyn demanded. "What do I do? Do I get an abortion? Do I walk away from him? Or do I throw myself down the stairs like Eddie..." she broke off, unwilling to remember. "I'm supposed to be meeting him for dinner tonight. What the hell am I going to say?"

"Ok, well you have two choices," Shambala said. "You can either, call him now, tell him it's been a really long day and you just want to go home to bed alone, go home and think this all through or you can meet him, tell him and decide what to do together."

"Those are my only choices?"

"Evelyn, the longer you leave this the harder it is going to be. This isn't something you can carry around by yourself. Besides, you're going to have to change how you do things here and people are going to wonder why."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't go into holding cells either at the precinct or the court. Derek's going to have to be told and a full risk assessment needs to be done..."

"No! I can't say anything to Derek or anyone else yet...Shambala please, you can't say anything!"

"I'm not going to say a word," Shambala said, getting to her feet and moving back towards the door. "But you need to, and soon. I'm here for you Evelyn, but Ben's the person you need right now and you know that. He's the only one that can help you decide what to do."

"I know you're right," she said slowly, "I know you are, it's just..."

"I know," Shambala said. "Look, I know you were supposed to be seeing that new client in ten minutes, but I'll take him, ok? Give yourself some time to think."

"Thank you," Evelyn said, suddenly grateful. "I appreciate that, thank you."

"Well I kind of owe you for the Dorkins case," she said with a smile. "I'll see you later, ok?"

Evelyn nodded as the other woman left the room, took a deep breath, wiped her face and lifted the phone.

XXXX

When the phone rang, he was expecting it to be Danielle Melnick. Alice Watkins had filed a note of appeal against her conviction and life sentence and though Ben knew it had little merit, he was faced with the uphill task of preparing for it, something he could do without given his current heavy workload and useless assistant. So when he heard Evelyn's voice, it came as a welcome surprise in an otherwise gloomy day.

"Hey," she said, "what are you doing?"

"Oh, just going over the grounds for appeal in the Watkins' case," he replied. "Danielle's creative, I'll give you that."

"She must be insane to think she'll get anywhere with that."

"Insanity isn't one of her better qualities. What about you?"

"We just had our monthly pep talk from the boss. Nothing very peppy about it, mind you. More like a half hour of doom and gloom."

"Sounds fascinating."

"It was. Now I know where Shambala gets some of her sound bites from." Evelyn paused. "Listen, about tonight..."

"What about it?"

"I was hoping...would you mind if we took a rain check?"

Ben paused, "Everything ok?"

"Fine, it's just been a really long day and what with all that stuff about Eddie earlier...I could just use a bit of headspace. A hot bath, some wine, some terrible TV, that sort of thing."

"Sounds great," he replied. "You sure I can't come over and scrub your back?"

"Any other night, yes, but I could just use some alone time." She paused. "Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad? You need some space and I can absolutely understand and respect that. Besides, we've got a showdown in front of Judge Barry tomorrow morning and I reckon I'll need my beauty sleep for it."

"Thanks," she said, and he thought he detected a thickness of emotion in her voice. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes you will," he replied. "I love you."

She paused and when she spoke again, there was no denying it. "I love you too, Ben."

The phone went dead and he slowly replaced the receiver. Something wasn't quite right, he was sure of it, and if it was about Eddie, he could hardly blame her. Damn that man, he thought to himself. Damn him and everything he's done.

XXXX

For a while, being alone worked. She did what she had told him she would do. She had gone home, had a bath, drunk a half glass of wine, pulled on her nightclothes and settled down on the couch with a blanket to watch the news. Five minutes in and she had no clue what was pertinently affecting Americans that day. The words, the images...they just rolled over her. All she could think about was the baby inside her and the father that didn't know. She found her hand drifting every so often to her stomach still flat, or as flat as one's stomach can be at almost forty one. There was no outward sign...nothing. She could almost convince herself it had been a mistake, a false positive. Only a doctor could really tell her the truth. She shivered, though it was warm in her apartment the nightclothes and blanket were no substitute for another person's body. His body.

When he opened the door to her, he didn't seem surprised to see her. To her relief, he didn't ask her any questions. He simply kissed her, held her, took her to bed and made love to her, slowly and intensely, just as she knew she needed.

Everything else could wait.

Chapter Text

Ben reached Judge Barry's chambers early the next morning only to find Evelyn already there, leafing through her papers. When his alarm had woken him that morning, she had already been gone, her side of his bed empty and cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth they had shared the previous evening. He hadn't known what had been in her mind when she had turned up at his door dressed in a coat and her nightclothes, and she hadn't said much, but he had known what she needed and been happy to provide it.

When she heard him coming, she looked up and smiled in a way that made his heart turn over. "Morning."

"Morning," he replied, sitting down beside her. "You must have left at the crack of dawn this morning. It was a little disappointing waking up to an empty bed."

"Sorry, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep so I figured it would be easier if I just went home. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. I just might have enjoyed making love to you again, that's all." He reached out and touched a stray strand of her hair, unable to miss the paleness of her complexion, despite the slight blush at his words. "Are you ok?"

"Fine," she looked back down at the papers on her lap and he studied her profile. She really was beautiful, not to mention all of her other qualities; charm, wit, intelligence...how could Edward Burns have taken all that and not appreciated it? How could he have tried so hard to snuff out the light Ben knew was there and what had he, himself, done to be granted guardian of it? "I love you." She looked up and smiled again, holding his gaze as though trying to read his mind. "What?"

"Nothing," she reached over and put her hand over his. "I just..."

"Mr Stone? Mrs Burns?" Judge Barry suddenly appeared in the doorway, bringing any further conversation to an end. "Shall we get this over with?"

"I love you too," she whispered, getting to her feet, following the judge back into her chambers, taking one of the chairs opposite her desk and leaving him with the other. Judge Barry leaned forwards and regarded them both.

"Right then Mrs Burns. Let's hear your argument about this search."

Evelyn leaned forwards. "Your Honour, the police did not act within their appropriate boundaries when they searched my client's home. Elma Dorkins is not able to consent to any police search of the property because she is not the legal tenant, my client is."

"Your Honour, the officers acted in good faith," Ben countered. "They knew Mrs Dorkins lived there with her son, People v Jefferson."

"This is completely different," Evelyn said. "In Jefferson, the accused and his mother were joint tenants of the property therefore she did have the legal right to consent to a search. In this case, she did not as my client is the sole tenant."

"Had the police been aware of this they could have applied for a warrant and would have been easily granted one the same day. The gun would inevitably have been discovered."

"We'll never know that for sure. In any event, the police wanted to search my client's home on the uncorroborated word of a witness who refused to divulge his identity or connection to Mr Dorkins." Evelyn shook her head. "I'm not convinced that a warrant would have been so easily granted in those circumstances, despite Mr Stone's confidence."

"Your Honour..."

Judge Barry held up her hands. "Mr Stone, did the police make any reasonable enquiries to try and find out who the lawful tenant was?"

"They asked Mrs Dorkins who lived there and she told them that both she and her son did. There was no requirement for them to make any other checks before commencing the search."

"But she does not live there on a full time basis," Evelyn said. "Three nights a week Mrs Dorkins stays at her mother's apartment in Harlem to provide care to her which, even if the court overlooked the fact that she is not a named tenant, gave her even less of a right to consent as per the Supreme Court in Keeley."

"What?" Ben asked, stunned.

"You have proof of this?" Judge Barry asked.

"Yes Your Honour, sworn affidavits from both Mrs Dorkins and her own mother Mrs Shaw." Reaching into her briefcase, Evelyn pulled out copies of the documents and passed them over.

Ben stared at her. "You could have given me this before we came in here."

"Would it have changed your position?" she asked, deliberately not looking at him.

"I guess we'll never know."

"She's got a point, Ben," Judge Barry said, perusing the papers. "The police should have made further enquiries if they were unsure. If Mrs Dorkins is not on the tenancy agreement and doesn't even live there full time, then there is no way that she could legally agree to the search of the premises. The police should have sought a warrant. I'm afraid the search is inadmissible and the gun is out."

Ben shook his head, "But..."

"The people's case is predicated solely on the gun, Your Honour," Evelyn continued. "They have no clear CCTV, no identification from the victim, no forensic evidence..."

"I can see where you're going with this," Judge Barry sighed. "I'm sorry Ben, but I've no option but to grant the motion to dismiss."

"Your Honour..."

"If you come up with further evidence then you're free to re-indict. For now, Mr Dorkins is off the hook."

Evelyn got her feet, "Thank you Your Honour."

She was out the door almost before Ben had had time to gather his thoughts and though he knew it was the wrong thing to do, once outside he took hold of her arm, unable to believe what had just happened. "That was low," he snapped. "You could have told me about his mother not living there full time before the hearing. Instead you dropped me in it!"

"I did not drop you in it," she protested, shaking him off. "If your office had done better due diligence..."

"Your client committed that robbery! You know that and I know that!"

"Maybe he did but we both know that you need evidence to prove it!"

"Evelyn..."

She moved closer to him. "Ben, it's not personal."

He stepped back, not willing to entertain her. "Really? It feels pretty damn personal! You came to me last night and we made love and all the time you knew that you were going to throw me under the bus twelve hours later!"

She gaped at him. "That is not true!"

"So why did you come?" he demanded, thrusting his hands onto his hips. "You said you needed your own space and the next minute, you're at my door. Did you need me because of Eddie, or was it to try and stop yourself feeling guilty about this?"

"Is that what you really think?" He hesitated at the look of devastation on her face. "Jesus, Ben...you say you love me in one breath and then clearly demonstrate how low an opinion you have of me in another. If you can't separate the professional and the personal now that we're supposed to be together then that is not my fault."

He sighed, "Ok, look..."

"I've got work to do," she said coldly. "I'm sure you do too." Before he could say anything further, she turned on her heel and walked away.

XXXX

"When did you take the test?"

"Yesterday."

"And this will be your...fifth pregnancy?" Dr Goodman quickly scanned through her notes.

"Yes."

"And your last pregnancy was...?"

"February this year." Evelyn closed her eyes briefly at the memory and wondered if her records would show that, as well as the miscarriage, she had also had a fractured wrist, concussion and severe bruising.

"Ah yes, I see." He sat back in his chair and looked at her sympathetically. "With your history of recurrent miscarriage, I can imagine that you and your husband are concerned."

Husband? You mean the jerk that got me in this mess?

"Uh...well, yes," she said, still smarting over their earlier argument and his insinuation about her behaviour.

"Every pregnancy is different. Just because your previous pregnancies ended in miscarriage, does not necessarily mean that this one will, I want you to know that." She nodded. "When did you have your last period?"

"I think it was July, but..." she trailed off, feeling embarrassed at not knowing...feeling like a teenager who had gotten into trouble rather than a grown woman.

"Well the blood test will be able to confirm it and then we can get you booked in for a dating scan," Dr Goodman said. "Have you been experiencing many symptoms?"

"Nausea and...my breasts are tender." The latter hadn't really been something she'd even noticed until Ben had touched her the previous evening and the sensitivity had been almost off the scale. Just the thought of him now made her body react in a way that she didn't want it to.

"All classic signs," he smiled at her. "I'm afraid that, with this being Friday, we won't have your results until Monday. Do you think you can wait that long?"

A weekend...a whole weekend of not knowing for sure...

"Yes," she said, "that's no problem."

"Good. Well, let's get the blood drawn and get you back to work. Once we have the results, you and your husband can come in to see me and we can discuss all the worries you might have, how does that sound?"

Evelyn smiled wanly as she pulled up her sleeve. "That sounds great. Just...great."

XXXX

Despite feeling as though he may have made a huge mistake, Ben was still slightly irked when he got off the elevator back at the office, so the last person he really wanted to get into a discussion with was Celia. But as he approached her desk, she got to her feet, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Mr Stone," she said. "Your daughter is here."

Ben paused, "Pamela? She should be at school."

"Well, she isn't. She's in your office eating donuts and drinking soda. I thought it best to keep her there until you got back from your hearing." Her face was etched with disapproval, but if she was expecting him to agree with her clear assessment of his daughter's behaviour she was going to find herself disappointed.

"Thanks," he said, moving past her down the hall and opening to the door to his office to find Pamela in his chair, her feet up on the desk, slurping from a soda can, crumbs scattered across his blotter. "Well this is an unexpected surprise."

"Dad!" She got to her feet and hurried over to embrace him tightly, an action that caught him slightly off guard but which he nonetheless welcomed. "I thought you were never getting back. That old witch at the desk told me I had to stay here until you did."

"Uh, that old witch is my secretary," he replied, kissing the top of her head, "and I'm glad she did. What are you doing here?"

Pamela pulled back and grinned up at him, "I came to spend the weekend."

"I didn't know you were coming this weekend."

"Does it matter?"

"Well, it's only Friday."

"Exactly."

"You should be at school."

"It's the last day before the October vacation so I thought it would be ok," she said with a shrug."It wasn't like we were going to be doing much anyway. I like your office. It's big."

"Does your mother know that you're here?" He put his briefcase down on the desk and shrugged off his jacket, unwilling to allow her to change the subject so easily, despite his pleasure at seeing her.

"No."

"Pamela..."

"She would only have said no."

"To you riding the train all the way here by yourself? You're damn right she would have said no. I would have said no too!"

"You shouldn't swear, Dad," she rebuked him. "I'm thirteen, not nine. Anyway, it's almost the weekend. Is it really that much of a deal?"

"Yes young lady, it is. The school have probably called your mother to say that you didn't turn up today. She's most likely going frantic with worry." He lifted the phone and started to dial Laura's number.

"She won't be there," Pamela said quietly. "She and Mark are away for the weekend."

"So who's meant to be watching you?" he asked as the phone rang out in Hartford.

"Peter."

"She left Peter in charge?" Pamela nodded. "Well that's just great." He put the phone down and surveyed her. "Is he here too?"

"No, he went to school and he'll probably want to just spend the whole weekend over at Jake's playing video games. That's no fun for me. They don't let me play."

"I thought Jake had a sister?"

Pamela wandered over to the book case. "She's only ten. You have a lot of books."

"Did your mother leave a number where she could be reached?"

"Uh huh."

"Do you have it?"

"No, I left it on the counter. What's The Law Review?"

Ben sighed as she opened the front door of the cabinet and lifted out one of the weightiest tomes contained therein. He was sure someone had once said that being the parent of a teenager was supposed to be easier than being the parent of a newborn, but now he was beginning to wonder. Just as he was thinking what to do next, the phone on his desk rang and Pamela turned around sharply.

"Can I answer it?"

"No." He grabbed the receiver before she could. "Stone."

"Ben, it's Arthur. It's on."

Ben paused, "What's on?"

"Lehrman's deposition. He's finally agreed to give you what you want."

"Really? I figured seeing as you won the hearing last week that you would be taking this all the way."

"Quite frankly, I want this one off my desk," Gold said. "Can you be at Rikers at two this afternoon?"

Ben paused and looked over to where Pamela was casually looking through the files on his table. What the hell was he supposed to do with a thirteen year old? He could hardly take her with him. "Does it have to be today?"

"Ben, I'm surprised at you," Gold replied. "You've been pestering me about this for months and now you want to drag your heels?"

"If I recall correctly, it was your client who pulled the plug the last time we all traipsed up there." He snapped his fingers to get Pamela's attention as she was about to open a book of photographs and shook his head.

"If it's not today..."

"Fine," he said. "I'll see you at two." Putting the phone down, he sighed heavily again and glanced out the office window to where Celia was sitting at her desk. Something told him he was not about to make her Friday.

XXXX

As the elevator made its way to the sixth floor, Evelyn took a deep breath and shook her head at no-one in particular. After her doctor's appointment, she had gone back to her office and tried to do some work, planning for a trial she had coming up the following week, but her mind had been elsewhere. The baby, Ben, what had happened at the hearing...he had been wrong. She hadn't gone to him because of her guilt over what her argument was going to be because she had completely forgotten all about it until she had sat down outside the judge's chambers and gone over her notes. She had intended telling him in advance, but when he had sat down and complimented her so much, her mind had drifted elsewhere.

Anyway, you didn't need to tell him. Would he have told you if it had been the other way around?

As the elevator pinged, she sighed heavily knowing the answer was that he probably would have, which was really why she was there. To apologise and...maybe even to tell him her news...she was going to need him after all. Celia looked up as she approached and almost looked pleased to see her.

"Mrs Burns."

"Celia," she greeted the other woman civilly. "I'm looking for Ben, is he here?"

"No, he's at Rikers, but hopefully on his way back by now."

"Oh." She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. "Well, that's all right..."

"His daughter is here though."

Evelyn paused. "His daughter?"

Celia nodded. "She just showed up! Not a word of warning, nothing! And he expects me to watch her while he's out and about. I mean, it's not my job, is it? I've got typing and filing to do and..." She broke off as the phone on her desk rang and she turned to answer it.

Evelyn knew she should probably leave, but her curiosity at knowing Pamela was mere feet away was piqued so, as Celia babbled away over the phone, she made her way down the corridor and looked through his office window. The girl, whom she assumed was Pamela, was sitting in Ben's chair, her head bent over some books, writing furiously. Even from the angle afforded to her Evelyn could see the family resemblance. She had Ben's colouring and the look on her face was most definitely the same look he got when he was concentrating on something important. She felt a pull in her abdomen. Would her baby resemble its father that way?

As though she could tell she was being watched, Pamela suddenly lifted her head and met her gaze. Evelyn made to move back, but the younger girl jumped up and hurried over to the door, pulling it open and staring at her. "Who are you?"

"Uh..." she fought for the right answer. "I'm...Evelyn."

Pamela's face lit up. "You're Dad's woman friend!"

"Ah, well..." Pamela grabbed her hand and pulled her into the office. "I'm...I'm guessing that you must be Pamela."

"You're pretty," Pamela said.

"Oh...thank you," Evelyn replied, not feeling particularly pretty at that moment. "So are you."

Pamela made a face. "I wish Dad had some nicer pictures of me in here. I look terrible in all of them." She waved her hand towards the photographs behind Ben's desk. "And they're all old."

"Shouldn't you be at school?" Evelyn asked.

"You sound just like that old witch out there. I came to see Dad. I didn't realise that was a crime. Maybe he should put me in jail." Pamela regarded her carefully. "You don't live with Dad, do you?"

"Uh...no..."

"Mom lives with Mark. He's ok but..." she trailed off. "I don't think he likes me."

Beginning to feel slightly light headed, Evelyn pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down. "I'm sure that's not true."

"He never talks to me. He just ignores me most of the time." Pamela sat back down in her father's chair. "If they get married, I think I might run away."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," Evelyn said, loosening the buttons on her jacket.

"I could come and live with you and Dad!" Pamela exclaimed, her face lighting up at the thought. "It would be great!" She frowned suddenly. "Are you ok? Your face is really white."

"Mmmm..." Evelyn let out a slow breath. "Would you mind, fetching me some water?"

Pamela leapt up and hurried over to the decanter in the corner. She poured some of the liquid into one of the glasses and passed it to her. Evelyn sipped it gratefully, trying to quieten the buzzing noise that had started in her head at the same time that her vision had started to blur. She took a deep breath and when she looked up, saw Pamela staring at her.

"I'm ok," she said, unsure as to who she was really reassuring, and trying to think of a safe topic of conversation. "Thank you. Tell me, did you...did you get the train down here by yourself?"

"Yes and it was really fun! I went...Dad!" Pamela leapt up again and hurried over to the door. "I'm soooo happy you're back! I met Evelyn!"

Evelyn turned slightly to see Ben standing in the doorway, Pamela half hugging him whilst also looking back at her. It was uncanny seeing the two of them side by side. There was no doubting that she was his daughter.

"So I see," he said quietly.

"I should go," she said, getting slowly to her feet and praying that her legs would hold her. "I just came to...well...talk about the hearing this morning."

"I'm glad you did," he replied. "Pamela, honey, would you mind giving us a minute?"

"Oh but I want to stay!" she pouted.

"Just five minutes, that's all. Then, if you want, I could take you down to the courthouse. I've got some papers to file."

"Can I meet a judge?"

"Uh...well, maybe," he replied with a smile and started rooting in his pocket. "There's a vending machine down the hall. Why don't you go and get some candy or something."

"Dad, I'm not a kid," Pamela said, taking the change from him. "Can Evelyn spend the weekend with us?"

"Maybe. Now, scoot." He closed the door and turned back to look at her. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be," Evelyn replied. "She's lovely."

"Not all the time, I can assure you." He paused. "I'm...uh...I'm sorry about earlier."

"So am I."

"I know that you wouldn't..."

"No, I wouldn't. But I should have told you the moment I realised. I'm sorry I blew the case for you."

"You didn't blow it. The cops should have had a warrant. I'll take it up with them." He looked at her. "You look..."

"Like shit, I know," she looked at the ground. "I think I have, I don't know, a bug working on me or something. I'll be fine." Meeting his gaze again, she resolved that it wasn't the right moment to deliver news destined to change both their lives.

"I was going to say, beautiful."

Hormones surged inside her and she felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. "I should go. I've got so much to do before the end of the day."

"Will you come over for dinner tonight?" he asked, as she moved towards the door.

"I don't want to impose..."

"You're not. Besides, it was Pamela's idea, remember?" She nodded as he moved towards her and slid his hands onto her waist. "I hate fighting with you," he murmured.

"I do too," she replied, feeling every nerve in her body jangle. His hand was so close to her stomach. All she would need to do would be to put her hand over his, slide it down, look him in the eye and...he would know.

The door suddenly crashed open. "They only had dark chocolate Hershey bars, Dad!" Pamela complained loudly as they moved apart. "Who even eats those?"

Chapter Text

"Peter, I don't care what your mother said, you are not old enough to spend the entire weekend alone."

"Dad..." Peter moaned. "I'm going to be sixteen in March."

"And this is October, so you're only fifteen and the answer is still no." Ben sighed. "Now you can either stay with Jake and his parents, if they're ok with that, or you have to come down here."

"I can't stay with them. They're going to visit Jake's grandparents in Florida tomorrow."

"Then you have to come here. So, are you going to get the train or do I have to come get you?"

"This sucks!"

"I'm sure it does. Which is it?"

"Fine, I'll get the train."

"Good," Ben checked his watch. "There should be one leaving Hartford in half an hour so I will meet you at the station at...eight, ok?"

"Whatever," Peter sighed and then hung up the phone.

Ben replaced the receiver and turned back to where Evelyn and Pamela were flicking through the TV guide and arguing good-naturedly over what to watch. They appeared to have bonded in the short time they had known each other and, he had to admit, it helped having another adult on his side. "He'll be here in a couple of hours."

"Are you going to kick his butt?" Pamela asked, a grin spreading across her face.

"No, but I'd certainly like to have words with your mother, so I hope he brings the contact details for her. I don't know what she was thinking allowing the pair of you to stay home alone all weekend."

"It was Mark's idea, he persuaded her. He always persuades her."

"In relation to what?"

"Uh...maybe we should talk about something else just now," Evelyn said suddenly, raising her eyebrows at him. "I'm sure this is a conversation that the three of you can have later on when you're alone."

"You're not going, are you?" Pamela looked up, her expression worried. "I mean...you need to meet Peter."

"Well, of course I'd love to meet Peter. I just meant later tonight, that's all." She glanced at Ben. "Do you want to make something here for dinner or order in?"

"I want pizza!" Pamela declared.

"I think we should wait for your brother, don't you?" Ben replied.

"But I'm starving..." she moaned dramatically.

"There's chips in the cupboard if you really can't wait." Scrambling to her feet, Pamela dashed into the kitchen and Ben took her place beside Evelyn on the couch.

"Are you ok?" she asked, putting her hand on his arm.

"Something's not right," he said in a low voice. "This isn't like Laura at all. She would never just go off and leave them by themselves."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"I want to speak her as soon as Peter gets here with her number and ask her what the hell she's playing at!" The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, especially when she had the audacity to criticise him for his parenting skills. "I mean, you wouldn't just run off and leave a couple of teenagers to fend for themselves, would you?"

"No, but..."

"But what?"

"Maybe there's more to it than her just going off for a dirty weekend."

"Well if there is, I can't wait to hear it."

"I don't think it's a conversation you should have in front of them, Ben. It's not fair to drag them into it." She paused. "Maybe...maybe I could take them round to Aldo's or something and let you talk to Laura in private."

He looked at her, "Would you mind?"

"Of course not. Assuming they'd want ice-cream, that is."

"Did someone say ice-cream?" Pamela asked, wedging herself between them on the couch and tearing open a bag of chips.

"You'll soon discover, Evelyn," Ben said, stroking her hair, "that despite her skinny appearance, my daughter has the appetite of a footballer."

"Well..." Evelyn replied, sticking her hand into the bag with a smile. "I guess that makes two of us."

XXXX

"I don't even want pizza," Peter grumbled as he surveyed the boxes on the table. "Couldn't we get Chinese?"

"You weren't here when the decision was made," Ben replied. "So I'm afraid it's pizza, or nothing."

"Fine..." he lifted a slice of pepperoni and slumped his lanky frame back in his chair, nibbling at the edge as though to make a point. Every so often, he looked over at Evelyn, clearly intrigued by her presence, but not brave enough to initiate a conversation. She smiled at him and he looked away.

If she had thought Pamela resembled Ben then she had gotten something of a shock when he had returned to the apartment with his son. It was like looking at a younger version of him, only Peter's eyes were deep brown as opposed to Ben's clear blue. They had clearly been arguing on their way back from the station given the palpable tension that had entered the apartment with them, but seeing as she had managed to forge the beginnings of what appeared to be a good rapport with Pamela, she was reluctant not to extend it to Peter. After all, they would be her own child's half-siblings...

"Your dad tells me that you're really good at baseball," she said, hoping to break the slightly awkward silence.

"Yeah, like he'd know."

"Peter..."

"What?" Peter glared at him. "You haven't been to any of my games in months. I'm surprised you even remembered that I play."

"That's enough," Ben said. "I won't have you being rude to Evelyn."

"I wasn't being rude to her, I was being rude to you."

"Peter!"

"Ben, it's fine," Evelyn said. "If Peter doesn't want to talk about it, that's ok."

"I never said I didn't want to talk about it," he turned his gaze to her. "Do you like baseball?"

"Sure, my dad used to take me to games when I was a kid," she replied, smiling at the memory. "We used to make the whole day of it, hotdogs, soda, pretzels...the works. My mom used to complain that I was as high as a kite by the time we got home. We shared a lot of good times together at Citi Field."

Peter looked at her for a long moment. "Do you still go?"

"Uh...no, I haven't been in a long time."

"How long?"

"About...fifteen years."

"Why did you stop going?"

"Peter, maybe Evelyn doesn't want to talk about that," Ben interrupted, looking at her meaningfully.

"No, it's ok. Well...I got married and..." she paused, knowing that she couldn't really explain to a fifteen year old what her life with Edward had been like. Baseball games with her father hadn't exactly been how he considered she should have been spending her time once she was his wife. "My father died not long after and...well...it kind of lost its meaning for me." Peter was looking at her thoughtfully. "But I'd love to see you play sometime."

"You'd have to come to Hartford," he said.

"Well I'm sure we could do that sometime, right Ben?" she looked over at him as Peter's gaze also swung to his father.

"Of course," Ben said. "And you're right, Peter, I haven't made much of an effort to get to your games lately and, I'm sorry for that. I really am."

"That's...that's ok," Peter said, his tone indicating that he was surprised at the apology. "We've got a big game in two weeks time so...maybe you could come to that?" He looked back at Evelyn.

"Sounds like a plan," she smiled.

"Urgh...can we talk about something else other than baseball?" Pamela moaned. "I hate baseball."

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" Ben asked.

"She's only interested if the conversation involves food," Peter said, throwing a napkin at her. "All she ever thinks about is her stomach."

At the mention of food, Evelyn suddenly remembered her previous offer. "Well, speaking of food...I wondered if you guys wanted to go with me to Aldo's for ice-cream?"

"Yes!" Pamela cheered.

"Without Dad?" Peter asked.

"I...uh...I'd like to talk to your mother," Ben said. "If I can reach her at her hotel that is."

"And you don't want us to hear?"

He shrugged, "It's an adult conversation, Peter, and it would be better if you weren't here, yes."

"Ok," Peter got to his feet. "Evelyn, have you ever had the triple decker sundae?"

Evelyn felt her stomach growl just at the thought. Somehow, the recent nausea plaguing her had been replaced by a seemingly insatiable hunger and it had been all she could do not to eat too many slices of pizza. "No, but it sounds amazing."

"If you finish it, you get it for free!" he said, his eyes shining. "Can we try?"

"I thought you were meant to be an elite athlete," she teased.

"Well..." he smiled, so like his father, "it is Friday."

XXXX

"You're calling to lecture me on my parenting? Really, Ben? If I wasn't so fucking incensed I think I would laugh."

"You cannot just go swanning off whenever it pleases you and leave our children at home by themselves! They're too young!"

"They're teenagers, not infants!"

"Peter is only fifteen! He is not old enough to be left in charge of his sister! What if there had been an emergency? A fire or..."

"Now you're just being dramatic!" Laura snapped. "Peter is a very mature and responsible young man, Ben. If you spent any real time with him you would know that."

Ben paused, thinking about the conversation he had had with his son, both on the way back from the station and at the dinner table. If anything, it had only served to demonstrate to him how immature and vulnerable Peter still was. And then, of course, there was Pamela. "And what about our daughter? Cutting school...getting the train all the way down here by herself and showing up at my office..."

"A major inconvenience for you, I'm sure, given your busy schedule," Laura said sarcastically. "So, she's started acting out a bit. She's at that age. It's called being a teenager."

"So you have absolutely no concerns about her behaviour?" he asked incredulously.

"I will talk to Pamela about it on Sunday when they come home. Now, do we really need to do this? You've already made us late for our dinner reservation."

Ben shook his head, almost unable to believe her attitude. "This weekend away wouldn't happen to have been Mark's idea, would it?"

"What the hell does that have do with anything?" she asked coldly. "He's a good man and a good role model for the kids."

"And before he came along you would never have even thought about doing anything like this. The kids need a stable home, Laura, not a mother who puts her boyfriend before them."

"How dare you!" she spat. "I have raised those children for ten years with minimal input from you! Don't you turn around now and start telling me that I'm not putting them first! You put up absolutely no fight when it came to custody and the arrangement appears to have suited you quite well all this time!"

"Well maybe we should revisit it!"

"Revisit what?"

"The custody arrangement."

There was a long silence at the other end of the phone. "You're not serious."

"I'm deadly serious!"

"You want to uproot the kids from the only home they've known for the last ten years and bring them back to the city? Have them change schools at such a critical point in their education? Leave all their friends? Have Peter give up baseball?"

"If they would be safer and happier here, then yes!"

"And who's going to look after them while you work all the hours Gods sends? Evelyn?" It was Ben's turn to pause. "Oh yes, Pamela told me about her. It wasn't difficult to find out the rest. You think I don't read the New York papers? You think I don't know who she is? If you think for one minute that bringing a woman with that kind of baggage into our children's lives is in their best interests then you are completely deranged!"

Ben slammed the phone down before Laura could say anymore, or before he could say something that he would truly live to regret. It never ceased to amaze him that a woman, whom at one time he had been desperately in love with, could make him so incandescent with rage. Turning, he surveyed the mess in the living room. Pizza boxes and soda cans on the table, clothes tossed over chairs, bags littering the floor...so different from how orderly he usually kept the place, other than when the children came to visit which he now knew had been far too infrequently. What if they did come to live with him? Would they even want to? Would Evelyn want them to? He shook his head. Maybe it was a crazy idea. The last thing he was sure she needed right now was the potential responsibility of his children.

XXXX

"That's not true! Evelyn, make him stop!"

"It is true! She wet the bed until she was eight, the big baby!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!"

"Ok, ok, ok!" Evelyn held up her hands, trying not to laugh. "Enough with the toilet humour. Are you going to eat that sundae or not? Right now, I don't think you've got a hope in hell of ensuring we get to leave here without paying."

Peter grabbed his spoon and dug back into the triple decker he had insisted they buy. Layers of gooey chocolate and vanilla, bits of fudge, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, wafers...by rights it should have made her feel queasy but, instead, she found she was thoroughly enjoying it. If she wasn't careful, it wasn't only going to be baby weight she was going to gain.

"Peter, you take that side," Pamela dictated. "I'll take this side and Evelyn can go down the middle." For a moment, they ate in blissful silence, the chatter of other patrons floating around them, until Pamela licked her spoon and looked at her. "How did you meet my dad?"

"We worked together," Evelyn replied.

"You mean you don't anymore?"

"No, I work at the public defenders' office now."

"What's that?"

"It's where poor people get lawyers," Peter said simply. "That's right, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said. "We work for legal aid, which is what people accused of crimes are entitled to if they can't pay for their own lawyers."

"So you work against Dad?" Peter asked. Evelyn nodded. "But you used to work with him. Isn't that a little weird?"

"I guess so."

"Do you get to fight with him?" Pamela asked.

"Sometimes," Evelyn replied, thinking back to their argument earlier that day. "But it's not personal, it's just our jobs."

"Mom and Mark sleep in the same bed. Do you sleep in the same bed with Dad?"

"Pamela!" Peter scolded her. "You can't ask that!"

"Why not?" she replied innocently.

"It's personal!"

"It's fine," Evelyn said, amazed at how unfazed she felt by the question. "Sometimes. But your dad and I don't live together so it's different from your mom and Mark."

"Do you love him?"

"Your dad?" Pamela nodded, her spoon sticking halfway out of her mouth. "Yes, I do. Very much." Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Pamela happily dug into the sundae again and Evelyn felt her insides contract. She slipped her hand under the table and over her stomach, almost thinking for a moment that she could feel their baby's heartbeat.

XXXX

"You don't have to go," Ben said as they stood at the door. "I'm sure Peter wouldn't mind taking the couch."

Evelyn glanced over his shoulder to where the kids were sprawled over the couch watching The Simpsons. "It's not fair to ask him to do that. Besides, I know that look in your eye and I think I'd feel a little weirded out having sex with your kids in the next room."

"What do you think married couples do when they have kids?" he laughed, putting his arms around her and pulling her close. "Take a vow of celibacy?"

"They're not my kids and, whatever's going on with their mother right now, they need you to be there for them not...watch you with your hands all over me." As if to make the point, she moved away from him.

He sighed, feeling defeated. "Are we going to see you tomorrow?"

"I think you should ask them what they want to do, and if they want me to come along then I'm happy to. I don't want to force myself on them."

"You said you got on well at Aldo's," he said, confused. "And things have been good here."

"We did and they have," she agreed. "But let's not push it, ok?" Stepping forward, she brushed her lips lightly against his. "Give me a call in the morning."

"Ok," he said reluctantly. "You want me to come down and hail a cab for you?"

"I think I can manage," she smiled. "Night guys!"

"Night Evelyn!" Peter and Pamela chorused.

Ben stepped out into the hallway after her and closed the door. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked.

"Just...for being you, I guess." She blushed and he pulled her into his arms again. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, kissing him again and then pausing as if she wanted to say something more.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said finally. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

He waited until she had disappeared into the elevator before going back into the apartment and closing the door.

"Why didn't Evelyn want to stay?" Pamela asked when he came back over to the couch and sat down.

"Oh, she wanted to give us some time alone together, that's all."

"She didn't want us to hear you having sex," Peter said.

"Peter!"

Pamela giggled. "She told us that she loves you."

Ben looked at her closely, "And...is that ok with you?"

"Do you love her?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I do." Seemingly satisfied, Pamela turned back to the screen. When he looked over at Peter, his son was watching him, a strange expression on his face. "Is that ok with you, son?"

"Sure," Peter shrugged non-committally. "She seems cool."

"Cool..." he echoed. "I guess I'll take that."

Chapter Text

Evelyn woke early the following morning, before daylight had fully established itself. She lay in bed, watching the shadows on the ceiling decrease, her hand resting lightly on her stomach. The baby was all she could think about. Spending time with Ben...with his children...it had made everything seem all the more real and she couldn't help wondering if this baby would look as much like Ben as Peter and Pamela did. Would the baby share any characteristics with them, or would he or she look more like its mother?

She knew she had to tell him and yet...it seemed like the wrong time. Although things had gone well the previous night she knew that the peace was fragile. There were so many years of hurt and disappointment that the last thing any of them needed, least of all Ben, was the hand grenade of finding out she was pregnant. She knew she could keep the secret a little longer, after all it wasn't as if she was showing and any food related incidents she could simply pass off as a bug or a sudden onset of the munchies.

Then there was the trial...a mere three weeks away. A shudder went through her as she thought about how she would have to sit in the witness box, look at Jack, try to avoid looking at Edward and tell everyone the story of the last fifteen years. All of it. From the first time he had lifted his hand to her, to the moment she realised that he had control over almost every aspect of her life...to the last look on his face right before he threw her, and their baby, down the stairs.

She rolled over and pulled the duvet up around her neck. Since the afternoon at Dr Olivet's office, she hadn't returned for any more therapy, though the secretary had called her more than once to schedule appointments. She was embarrassed at what had happened that day, at her reaction, both to confronting Edward outside her building and when Ben had arrived. Elizabeth wasn't stupid, she would have been able to tell that there was something going on. She had told herself that she didn't need any more therapy, that she could handle everything on her own, but faced with adding impending motherhood to the mix, perhaps she should talk to someone.

What about your own mother?

It had been a few weeks since she had seen Susan, their contact limited to the occasional telephone conversation when she had a few moments to spare. It wasn't ideal and she knew it probably wasn't fair given that she had imposed on her for so long after leaving Edward, but she had grown so used to not having that close a relationship over the years that it just seemed natural to maintain a distance. But now...

Getting out of bed, she went through to the kitchen and made herself some coffee, enjoying the quiet solitude until the phone rang shrilly beside her, causing her to start slightly and slop some of the hot liquid over the edge of her cup and onto the counter top.

"Hello?" she said, lifting the receiver.

"Evelyn? It's Pamela! Are you coming over?"

She couldn't help smiling at the childish enthusiasm in Pamela's voice. Before she could answer, there was the sound of muffled discussion in the background then static, as though the phone were being fought over, and suddenly Ben's voice. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. What's going on over there?"

"I told Pamela she couldn't call you until later but she appears to have no concept of following a simple rule," he said. Pamela shouted something in the background. "All right!"

"Sounds like you have your hands full," she laughed.

"You could say that. I've never seen the pair of them so animated this early on a Saturday morning. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she said, knowing it was a gross understatement. "What have you got planned?"

"Well, Peter wants to go to the park and play catch, Pamela wants to go shopping...I'm trying to figure out the best way to keep them both happy. I don't suppose you want to come and help me?

"I'd love to," she replied genuinely, "but I really think I should go and see my mother this morning. It's been a while and I woke up feeling guilty about it. I could always meet you for lunch later?"

"Great. What about Tavern on the Green? About twelve?"

There was a cheer in the background behind him and Evelyn couldn't help but laugh again. "Sounds perfect. I'll see you there."

XXXX

"This is a pleasant surprise," Susan said as Evelyn sat down on the couch. "I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks. It almost reminded me of what it was like when you were with Edward."

She wasn't sure if it was meant as a criticism, but it stung in any event. "I know," Evelyn looked down. "I'm sorry. It's just been really crazy these last few weeks what with my new job and..."

"Your new relationship?"

"Something like that."

Susan sat back and surveyed her critically. "Is it serious?"

"Yes."

"Please be careful."

Evelyn frowned, "Why would you say that? You've met Ben, didn't you like him?"

"Yes, very much," Susan replied. "He was incredibly charming that evening he came here and when he visited after you were...attacked...he seemed very concerned for you..."

"But?"

"But, I always found Edward equally charming and attentive and look how that turned out."

Evelyn felt indignation rise within her on Ben's behalf, even though she knew her mother's statement wasn't out of line. "Ben is nothing like Eddie."

Susan smiled sadly, "I suppose I'll have to take your word for that."

"Mom..."

"Evelyn, I don't want to see you get hurt again, physically or emotionally. You've only been separated, what, eight months? You're still married. You were married for fifteen years...why are you so keen to jump headlong into a relationship with someone else? Don't you think you should spend some time on your own? Figure out who you are again?" She sighed. "At least get this dreadful court case over and done with."

Evelyn paused. "It's...it's not really as simple as that."

"Why not?"

"I'm pregnant."

There was a stunned silence as Susan took in the news. Her expression shifted from shock to concern...to something almost akin to sadness. "And it's Ben's?"

"Well it certainly isn't Eddie's. Not this time."

"Oh Evelyn..." she sat forward and clasped her hands together. "How did he take the news?"

"I haven't told him yet. I only found out the other day and I'm still waiting for the doctor to confirm it, but..." she trailed off, knowing that the blood test was a mere formality now.

"Good, then you still have some options."

Evelyn met her gaze. "Options?"

"Yes. I mean, this is 1993 for God's sake. Things happen. You don't have to keep it if you don't want to and...well...you don't have to tell him if you don't want to."

"You think I should have an abortion?"

"I think..." Susan got to her feet and came across to sit beside her. "I think you need to consider very carefully whether this is something you feel you can go through. You've had such a difficult time with pregnancies in the past and..."

"I know that, but the doctor said that that was no indication..."

"Not to mention the fact that, well, Ben is older and he already has children, doesn't he? Older children?"

"Teenagers, yes."

"Is it really fair to ask a man at that stage of his life to start all over again?"

Although she was merely voicing all of the issues that she had been wrestling with herself, and had confided in Shambala about, hearing someone else say them, made her feel a sense of anger. As though her child wasn't important. "So, just because he already has kids, I should get rid of this one?"

"That's not what I'm saying..."

"It sounds like it!" Evelyn got to her feet and moved over to the window, being careful not to look too intently at the drop to the street below. "I could do this on my own, if I had to."

"Could you? Could you really?" Susan sighed. "Darling, you're not getting any younger yourself..."

"Thanks a lot!"

"I'm just trying to...I'm your mother. If I don't say these things to you then who will? If you tell Ben, what will he say?"

"I don't know. I want to believe that he would be happy."

"But you're not sure, are you?"

She paused. "No."

"Then doesn't that tell you something?"

XXXX

"Where is she?" Pamela craned her neck to look towards the door of the restaurant for the umpteenth time. "You said twelve and it's...almost ten after."

"She's probably caught in traffic," Ben said, perusing the menu. "It takes time to get around this city."

"I know that Dad," she rolled her eyes. "But I wanted to show her my sneakers." As if for emphasis, she kicked the bag at her feet under the table.

"As if she's going to care about your sneakers," Peter said.

"I think she will."

"Don't fight you two..." Ben said. "I'm sure she won't be long. Besides, don't you like spending time with your old man?"

"I guess," Peter said. He was trying hard to appear as though he didn't care, but Ben knew he had enjoyed their morning throwing the ball while Pamela kept score or pretended to run bases. For all her moaning the previous evening about how much she hated baseball, she appeared to have a pretty good idea of the rules of play.

"There she is!" Pamela shrieked and started waving wildly as Evelyn threaded her way through the tables towards them. "We thought you were never coming!"

"I'm sorry," Evelyn said, shaking off her coat and sliding into the booth beside Ben. "I spent far longer at my mom's than I intended to and then the traffic getting down here was awful."

"I told you so," Ben said pointedly to his daughter.

"Ok, you were right," she acquiesced before starting to scrabble under the table. "Evelyn, what do you think of my new sneakers?" Pulling them out of the box, she dumped them one after the other on the table, causing the cutlery to rattle.

"Wow, they look great," Evelyn said. "Did you buy them yourself or did you persuade your dad to put his hand in his pocket?"

"We went Dutch, right Pam?" Ben said.

"Yes, but I paid more. Well, almost more. I mean, a little bit more..."

"Shut up..." Peter moaned.

"You shut up!"

As they squabbled good-naturedly, Ben slid his hand onto Evelyn's leg and leaned into her. "You look great."

"Thanks," she replied.

"How was your mom?"

"Fine. She sends you her best wishes."

"That was nice."

"Yeah." She made a show of looking at the menu, but he couldn't help but feel that something seemed slightly off.

"Did you have a fight?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know, you just seem a little..."

"I'm fine," she said, meeting his gaze. "Really. We had a nice chat. It was good to see her. Everything's fine."

"Ok," he acquiesced, though he didn't quite believe her, as the waiter appeared to take their orders and then Peter and Pamela starting telling stories about their school and friends. Every so often he glanced over at Evelyn, who was nodding and expressing surprise and laughing at all the right moments. To anyone else, it would have seemed like a perfectly normal, family lunch and yet, he knew her well enough to know that there was definitely something bothering her.

"Yes!" Pamela exclaimed as their food arrived and a steaming plate of macaroni cheese was placed in front of her. Peter seemed equally happy with his burger and Ben had to admit that his own looked pretty good too. But Evelyn had ordered spaghetti and the moment the plate appeared, it was almost as if he could see her turning green.

She hid it well. Her hand went momentarily to her mouth, which she then proceeded to turn into a scratch of her upper lip. Then she lifted her fork and started pushing the food around the plate. Pamela and Peter were still chattering away and occasionally he contributed, but he noticed that she took her time before lifting a forkful of food to her mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her chew slowly then take a long drink of soda before twirling the spires almost pointlessly around her fork again.

"Aren't you hungry?" Pamela asked suddenly.

"You know, my mom gave me a danish earlier and it's filled me up more than I thought it would," Evelyn replied with a slight laugh.

"If you're not going to eat it, I will."

"Pamela..." Ben said.

"No, it's fine," Evelyn said, gesturing to the plate. "Any help would be gratefully appreciated." She took another small bite while Pamela stuck her fork in.

"Do you want some of my macaroni?" Pamela asked, pushing her plate towards Evelyn, who physically recoiled.

"Ah...no, no it's ok," she replied. "Actually, would you guys mind excusing me for a moment?" Before any of them could reply, she got out of her seat and headed at speed towards the restroom.

"Mmmmm..." Pamela said appreciatively. "I should have ordered the spaghetti. It's so good!"

"Is she ok?" Peter asked suddenly.

Ben looked over at him, trying to keep his expression as neutral and reassuring as possible. "Yes, she's fine. I guess she's just not hungry."

XXXX

It was after eleven by the time the movie had finished and Evelyn could feel her eyelids starting to droop. Around her, Peter and Pamela were arguing over whether or not it had been a good choice of movie or not, Peter saying it had been and Pamela disagreeing, mainly because it had been his choice. Eventually, they both bad her and Ben goodnight and disappeared into their respective rooms, a low hum coming from Peter's, indicating he had turned on his radio.

"Ten minutes Peter and then I want that off!" Ben called, receiving a loud grunt in response. He sank down into the couch next to her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry you're having to deal with all this."

"All what?" she asked, snuggling closer to him and breathing in his scent. "I've had a pretty good weekend so far."

"Really?"

"Really," she replied honestly. "They're great kids. You don't give them enough credit."

Ben sighed, "Maybe not. I worry about them though. More than I thought I did."

"I know. I guess it's only natural."

"I worry about you too."

Evelyn pulled back and craned her neck to look up at him. "Me, why?"

"I don't know...you haven't looked well the last few days and then this afternoon at lunch..."

"I told you, it's just a bug."

"Is it?" He held her gaze and as she stared into his eyes, she wondered if he had guessed the truth. "Are you sure it isn't something else?"

"Like...what?" she asked quietly.

"Like the case," he replied. "It's only three weeks away and I can tell you're worried about it."

"Oh..." she sagged slightly. "That."

"I wish I could do something to make you feel better about it," he pulled her close again. "I hate the thought that it's making you sick like that."

She paused, knowing that this was the moment that she should tell him. Just say it. Just say Ben, I'm pregnant. Three little words. Just say it! "I...I don't think it's the case, although I am worried about it. It's..." The phone suddenly shrilled loudly on the sideboard, causing her to jump.

"Who's calling at this hour?" Ben asked, untangling himself from her, standing up and walking over to retrieve it. "Hello?" She waited, hoping it was a crank call or a wrong number, so as not to disrupt her train of thought. If she was going to do it, it had to be now. "Lunchtime? I thought you would just want me to put them on the train as usual." She turned to look over the back of the couch and saw his expression marred with irritation. "There is no need for you...Laura...Laura, I've already said..." He held the phone away from his ear and then hung the receiver up. "She hung up on me."

"Laura?"

He nodded. "She's coming to collect the kids, in person, at lunchtime tomorrow. She wants to talk."

"About what?"

"Well, she wasn't specific but I'm guessing about what I said to her last night about possibly revisiting our custody arrangement."

Evelyn paused as the implication of his words sank in. "You...want the kids to come and live with you?"

Ben sighed, "I don't know...it just came out when we were arguing. I told her that I thought she should put the kids before herself, she told me that she had looked after them all this time and that I had done pretty well out of the arrangement and I said that maybe we should look at it again." He came back over to the couch and sat back down. "Truth is, I don't know if it was a stupid suggestion or not. What do you think?"

"Me?"

"Yeah," he looked at her. "I mean, if they did come and live here, well, it would impact on you as well as me."

"I..." she fought wildly for an appropriate answer. Yes, I think it's great you want them to come and stay with you and of course I'll be there...no, I think it's a terrible idea...what about our child...? "I think it's a decision only you can make...and the kids of course. I mean, they're old enough to say what they want, right?"

"I guess..." he mused. "I don't know, maybe they would hate the idea." He slid his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "Besides, I'm not sure I know how to be a full time father anymore."

She didn't say anything...couldn't say anything. Had the phone rung two minutes later they would have been having an entirely different conversation. If Pamela and Peter did come to stay it would change everything between them. Two teenagers and a newborn baby? Maybe her mother had been right. Maybe it wouldn't be fair to ask him to start all over again, especially under those circumstances, and maybe he wouldn't even want to. They sat together until the noise stopped in Peter's room and the hands of the clock on the wall slipped to midnight. The apartment was quiet, save for the low hum of the television and their own breathing. She knew she should go and yet, despite everything, she felt warm and safe next to him. Her and her baby.

Ben stroked her hair gently. "Do you want to stay?"

His words were laden with meaning, his tone rich and inviting. She pulled herself up and over onto his lap, her knees either side of his pelvis, and lifted her sweater off over her head. His hands went to her waist and she felt him stiffen under her. "Yes," she said, bending forward to kiss him. "And make it good."

Chapter Text

When Evelyn came out of the bathroom the following morning, she found herself pausing to take in the scene before her. Pamela and Peter were dragging themselves to the table in their pyjamas, arguing over which of them needed the most sleep, whilst Ben was busy trying to serve breakfast to everyone's specifications and bat away the complaints over there being no white bread and why couldn't Pamela have coffee. As she stood watching the rough and tumble of family life, she suddenly realised that this could be her life. Not every other month or even every other weekend, but every day if Ben made good on his threat and it dawned on her that in every conversation she had had, both with her mother and Shambala and, indeed with herself over the future, she had been focused on what Ben would want...what Ben would say...how Ben would react to having another child at this time of his life. She had barely given any thought as to what she wanted. She wanted the baby, his baby, but wanting it and having it meant becoming part of something far bigger than just the three of them and she wasn't quite sure if she was ready for it.

"Evelyn..." Pamela whined when she saw her, "Why can't I have coffee?"

"Because your father said no," she replied, shaking herself slightly and walking over to join them at the table. "You've got years ahead of you to drink bad coffee, believe me."

"Uh...I'll have you know my coffee is not bad," Ben said, waving the pot at her. "But, despite that, the answer is still no."

"So what are we doing today?" Peter asked once they were all seated to eat. "Maybe the park again?"

Evelyn looked over and caught Ben's eye, realising that he hadn't yet told them about Laura's plans. "Well..." he said slowly. "Your mother called late last night and...uh...she's coming to collect you at lunchtime, so I'm afraid there won't be much time to do anything."

Both children stopped what they were doing, Peter with his toast halfway to his mouth, Pamela with her spoon raised over her cereal, and stared at him, their expressions verging on horrified. Evelyn frowned. Hardly the typical reaction of teenagers told they were simply going home, she would have thought, but then, aside from herself, what experience of teenagers did she really have? And what did she really know about the Stone childrens' home life anyway? In any event, at the moment, it really was nothing to do with her, so she concentrated on the cereal in her bowl and kept quiet.

"But why? Why can't we just get the train home?" Pamela asked when she had recovered herself. "Why is she coming here?"

"I don't know," Ben said. "I guess she's missed you. That's not a bad thing, is it?"

"Is he coming?"

"He who?"

"Mark," Peter supplied darkly.

"I've no idea."

"It's not fair," Pamela looked over at Evelyn, seeking support. "You'll still be here when she comes, won't you?"

Evelyn paused and looked up. Though she couldn't help but be curious about Laura, a woman she had only seen in one picture tucked at the back in Ben's office, she knew that it was probably best she make herself scarce, not least of all to give herself some more time to think. "Oh...no, I'll be away by then."

"Why?" Pamela wailed, dropping her spoon onto her plate with a clatter.

"Don't you want to meet our mom?" Peter asked, the slight edge that had been initially evident in his voice upon his arrival on Friday, returning.

"Of course I do, eventually," she replied as diplomatically as she could. "But I think it's best that it's just the four of you this time." Glancing over, she caught Ben's eye and knew that he was thinking along the same lines. "Besides, I've got a trial starting tomorrow and I need some time to go over all the evidence."

"Is it a murder?" Peter asked.

"No, a robbery," she replied, hiding a smile as he visibly wilted with disappointment.

"I don't see why we have to go home at all," Pamela said, viciously stabbing at a piece of toast with a butter knife. "It's not as if we've got school tomorrow. Can't we stay a few more days?"

"No," Ben said.

"Please..."

"Evelyn and I have to work. There would be no-one to take care of you."

"We're not kids, we can take care of ourselves," Peter said.

"We're not having this argument again," Ben said lightly. "Anyway, we said we'd come up for your game in two weeks time and we will."

"Really?" Peter asked, his gaze switching hopefully between them.

"Yes," Evelyn agreed. On that point at least she was sure. "We wouldn't miss it." Seemingly satisfied, he dug back into his bowl, though Pamela still looked unhappy. When breakfast was finished, the two of them disappeared to get dressed and she started helping Ben clear up the dishes, stopping only when he pulled her into him for a long kiss that whilst reminded her of the enforced, silent passion on the couch the night before, almost succeeded in making her drop the plates onto the floor. "What was that for?" she asked when they broke apart.

"For knowing the right things to say," he replied. "I want you to meet Laura too but..."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I'm sure you have a lot to talk about."

"I guess we do..." he released her and leaned back against the counter. "I know she's not going to be happy, judging by how she was with me on the phone last night."

"They're your children, Ben. You need to do what you think is best."

"Sometimes it's hard to know what is best," he mused.

"I know," she said, lifting a cloth to wipe the table and realising that anything further she could say would simply ring hollow. In reality, she knew nothing. "I know."

XXXX

The buzzer rang at twelve-thirty on the dot.

Evelyn had left an hour or so earlier, despite Peter and Pamela's best efforts to encourage her to stay. Although he knew it wasn't the right time for an introduction, Ben couldn't help but miss her comforting presence. If he was going to peruse the notion of having the children come and live with him, he would need her backing and it was clear from even the short time they had all spent together that both of them liked her. Neither of the children made any move to answer the door so Ben went over and lifted the receiver. "Hello?"

"It's me," Laura said, her tone inexplicably pleasant. "Is it ok to come up?"

"Sure," he pressed the button and heard the security door click, then opened the apartment door and waited for her to come out of the elevator. When she did, she smiled broadly at him, an action that threw him completely, given that he had been ready to fight with her.

"You look well," she complimented him as she reached the door, going so far as to offer her cheek for a kiss.

"So do you," he replied, unable to help noticing that she did, in fact, look good. She'd cut and coloured her hair since he had last seen her and the white pants and striped navel top she was wearing showed off all of her best features, but though at one time he might have reacted, he couldn't help but think that her show of sexual femininity was calculatingly deliberate. "Come in."

"Thanks," she moved past him into the apartment, her gaze flitting around as though searching for something. Or someone. "Well, you two look happy to see me." Peter and Pamela were sat on the couch, wearing expressions that could only be described as mournful and showing no signs of being pleased to see their mother. "I take it you've had a good weekend?"

"Why couldn't we just get the train home?" Pamela asked, avoiding the question.

"Because we decided to come and get you," Laura replied lightly, in a tone that Ben recognised as indicating that the subject, whilst closed for the moment, would very soon be reopened.

"But..."

"If you've got all your things then why don't you take them down to the car? Mark's down there waiting."

The brusqueness of her tone and the mention of Mark's name seemed to send both children into slow motion and Ben watched as they dragged themselves off of the couch and made a big pretence of lifting their bags and moving towards the door, almost as if they were waiting for him to grant some form of reprieve. Pamela hugged him tightly, Peter slightly less so, and then they trudged out of the apartment.

Once they were gone, Laura turned to look at him, tossing her hair as she did so. "I wasn't sure if I'd find you alone."

"Meaning what?" he asked, though he had a fair idea.

"I wasn't sure if she would be here."

"By she I take it you mean Evelyn?"

"Is there more than one?"

He elected not to engage her. "She went home a few hours ago."

"Oh, so she spent the night then."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well you've only known her, what, a few months?"

"Five months," he replied shortly.

"Oh well..." she laughed. "A long time then."

"You said you wanted to talk," he said, diverting the conversation back to its intended purpose. "So talk."

She raised her eyebrows. "There's no need to be like that, Ben. Is it completely out of line for me to show an interest in who you're dating? Surely if my children are going to be around a person then it's not unreasonable for me to know something about her." She turned and casually strolled along the back of the couch, running her hand along the top as she did so. "Can I take it that it's...serious?"

"Yes, it is."

Laura nodded, "I suppose I should be happy for you. After all, you seem to have spent most of the last ten years buried in your work. Much like you did when we were married." She paused. "Does Evelyn know what you're like?"

Ben sighed, "Laura..."

"Does she know that she'll never see you for weeks on end? That you'll forget to call and say that you're going to be late? That the DA's office will always be more important than her...?"

"That's enough."

"No it isn't, Ben. It isn't nearly enough!" She snapped. "Do you have any idea how much you've hurt me? How much you've hurt the kids...?"

"Laura..." he interrupted her, somewhat amazed that she was bringing up the same bones of contention from somewhere circa 1983. "We have been divorced for ten years..."

"And do you really think it doesn't still hurt?!" She moved towards him, her eyes suddenly awash with unshed tears. "Do you really think that I don't still wonder why you picked your work over me...over us? I loved you, Ben and I know you loved me and yet...when the going got tough you just threw in the towel!"

"I threw in the towel? You're the one who walked out!"

"And you didn't stop me! Why didn't you come running after me? Why didn't you promise me that we could make it work? Why didn't you drag me home again? Why did you stop loving me?!"

She was standing mere feet away from him now, her fists balled at her sides, completely altered from the woman who had walked through the door not five minutes earlier, the first tears slipping down her cheeks and Ben found himself...utterly blindsided. In all of their arguments, both pre and post separation, she had displayed nothing but anger...hatred almost. She had railed at him, at his selfishness, his ego, his apparent belief that serving justice was more important than family, she had called him every name under the sun but not once...not once...had she cried.

"I...uh..." he fought hard for the right thing to say, adrift at her shift in tactic. "I didn't stop loving you, Laura, you should know that. I thought that we were happy until the day you told me that you were leaving and taking the children with you. I didn't have the chance to stop loving you."

She moved closer to him again and he could see that she was trembling. "Do you still love me, Ben?"

He had never been very good at hiding his true emotions and he could tell by the look on her face that that hadn't changed. Lord only knew he didn't want to hurt her anymore than she perceived she had already been hurt, but he also knew he couldn't lie. "You're the mother of my children," he said after a long pause. "I will always love you because of them and because of what we once had but..." Before he could finish his sentence, she rushed towards him, a sob escaping from her lips and, for the briefest of seconds, he thought she was going to strike him. But instead, her arms went around his neck and she pressed herself against him at the same time as her mouth crashed against his.

The Ben of five years ago...hell, probably even the Ben of one year ago...would have responded in the way she clearly wanted him to. They had so much shared history after all and if he closed his eyes he could still remember the college girl he had first seen on that September morning with the pencil behind her ear...but the present Ben, the Ben that was in love with one woman and one woman only, couldn't. "Laura..." he pulled back, holding her at arms length. "Don't do this."

She stared at him, her cheeks streaked with tears, her eyes wide as though she couldn't quite believe what was happening herself. Then she wrenched her arm out of his grip and stepped back, wiping her hand viciously across her face. When she next spoke, her voice was low and full of the familiar anger he had grown used to over the years. "You are not taking my children away from me."

"I want what's best for them..."

"You don't know what's best for them, Ben. You have no fucking idea! You barely even know who they are!"

"I know them well enough to know that something isn't right when our thirteen year old daughter takes it upon herself to cut school and come all the way down here on her own! Not to mention the fact that neither of them clearly want to go home with you and your latest bit of rough!"

"Well I didn't realise that you were a fucking psychiatrist on top of being a fucking know-it-all lawyer!" Laura spat. "You don't know what their lives are like because you haven't shown the slightest bit of interest in them for years. Now, all of a sudden, you take up with some whore and you want to be father of the fucking year!"

He bit his tongue, hard, against the reaction that he knew she wanted and rewarded her with a muted one instead. "If you're jealous, that is not my problem."

She laughed loudly. "Jealous? Give me a fucking break, Ben. Compared to Mark you were, what I can only describe as, an extremely unsatisfying fuck. I don't know how I survived seven minutes of marriage to you let alone seven years." Tossing her hair again, she moved past him to the door. "Try and take my children if you want, but you won't succeed. I'll see you and that bitch in hell before I see my children living with either of you."

He shrugged, "Well I guess I'll see you in court."

"Yes," she said, looking him up and down distastefully. "I guess you will."

XXXX

"She kissed you?"

"Yes, she kissed me." He leaned forwards as though to emphasise the point. "I didn't kiss her, I didn't want her to kiss me and the second she did I pushed her away. I need you to believe that."

Evelyn pulled her cardigan tighter around her body. She felt slightly chilled at the revelation of what had gone on between Ben and Laura that afternoon, but symbolically, it also felt as though she was protecting herself and her baby. When he had turned up at her door, earnestly declaring he had something important to tell her, she had had no clue what he was going to say and the truth had genuinely shocked her, despite knowing deep down he would never do anything to hurt her. "I do believe that. I just...what was she hoping to achieve?"

Ben shook his head, "I don't know...she's crazy. It was like talking to two different people! One minute she's coming onto me, the next she's acting as though I'm the devil's spawn. She certainly isn't the woman I married, that's for sure."

"She's the mother of your children."

"That doesn't mean anything."

Evelyn paused at the casual way he dismissed her words, "Doesn't it?"

"Not any more, not for a long time. A few years ago...if she had given any indication she wanted to reconcile..." he shrugged, "maybe I might have considered it but now...now there's no way.

All these years she's paraded a succession of men through her life, and the kids' lives, while I've worked my ass off and practically lived the life of a monk. Now, all of a sudden, she can see that I'm moving on and she can't take it. Not to mention the fact that she's obviously terrified that I'm going to take the kids away from her. Why else would she throw herself at me?"

"You don't give yourself enough credit," Evelyn joked lamely.

"Yeah, well...I like to think you're biased."

"And are you?"

"What?"

"Going to take the kids."

"They're not happy. Even you could see that, right?"

Evelyn sighed, "I don't know, Ben..."

"Did you think their reaction to hearing she was coming to get them was normal? You should have seen their faces when she walked in." He got to his feet and thrust his hands in his pockets. "I don't know if it's her or Mark or both of them. If she hadn't acted so crazy we might have been able to sit down and have a rational conversation about it. Now...now all I reckon I can do is ask them both if they want to come and live here and, if they do...do whatever I need to do to get the order reopened in court."

"And if they don't?"

"I don't even want to think about that right now."

"Do you want some tea?" Evelyn got to her feet, her mind whirring, and walked into the kitchen. He seemed to have it all figured out. If Pamela and Peter wanted to move back to New York, he was going to make it happen and yet...she had knowledge of something that could change everything. Keeping it from him any longer suddenly seemed so very wrong.

"I need to know that you support me in this," Ben said, coming up behind her as she filled the kettle.

"They're your children..." she said quietly, immediately feeling his arms go around her and gently pull her round to face him. "It's not really anything to do with me..."

"You keep saying that they're my children..."

"They are."

"But how can you say that this decision has nothing to do with you? It has everything to do with you. I love you, Evelyn...you mean everything to me. Don't you know that? I want a life with you. I want to be with you." He took a breath. "When all this is over and done with and you're free of Edward...I want to marry you."

If ever words could have a physical reaction on a person, his did. Her heart started to thud, her throat suddenly went dry and she felt a stab deep inside her womb. "What...?"

He cupped her face in his hands, "I know that it sounds crazy and that you're not even divorced yet but...I don't want to think about my future without you in it. I don't want to wake up and not have you lying beside me. I don't want to grow old and not have you grow old with me. I know that an overworked guy in his fifties with a seemingly crazy ex-wife and two teenagers probably isn't what you had in mind..."

"Ben..."

"And I know that if the kids decide they do want to come and live here with me, then it'll impact on our relationship more than I have any right to ask it to, but..."

"I'm pregnant."

She heard herself say the words, the ones she had been longing to say to him since she had seen the positive test result and yet been too afraid to utter, and she waited for the reaction she had hoped for. She waited for the look of joy to cross his face, for him to laugh and lift her up in his arms and tell her that it was the best news he had heard in years. She waited for him to kiss her and tell her that he loved her and that he would look after both of them. She waited for everything that she had never received from Edward any one of the four times she had told him he was going to be a father.

She waited.

Ben stared at her, as though he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly and his hands dropped from her face. "You're...uh...you're pregnant?" She nodded. "How...uh...when...?"

"How is probably pretty obvious," she replied. "As for when...I need to wait until tomorrow for the blood test results and then they'll send me for a scan but...but I'm guessing it happened sometime in early August."

His eyes widened, "So you're...almost three months pregnant?"

"No, I don't think as far along as that. Maybe about two months, give or take..." she trailed off as it became more and more clear that she wasn't going to get the reaction she had longed for and could only be grateful that she wasn't near a flight of stairs. "I'm...I'm sorry."

He was looking at her, but not looking at her, more looking through her, his mind clearly gone from the present moment. She knew her expectations were unfair, after all he had only known for a matter of seconds whereas she had carried the knowledge for days so she waited, waited as he slowly came back to her, as his eyes refocused, as he swallowed hard and pulled her gently into his arms again.

"No," he said, burying his face in her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't take better care of you."

Confused, she pulled back. "I don't..."

"You've been through so much," he said, his face pained. "I shouldn't have...I should have been more careful...I shouldn't have...wanted you so badly..."

"Ben, we're both adults...we're both responsible."

"I'm the man," he said stridently. "I should have..."

"That's a very sweet if somewhat old fashioned notion," she smiled tentatively.

"You've been to the doctor?" She nodded. "What did he say, I mean, about...what's happened before?"

"He said there was no reason why this pregnancy shouldn't be successful just because the others weren't."

"So he didn't say...he didn't say that you shouldn't have it?"

"No." She paused. "Unless...you don't want me to have it?"

"No! I would never..." he looked at her earnestly. "Do you want to have it?"

She slid her arms around his waist, finally allowing herself to say what she felt. "Yes. I love it already, more than you could know, and I love you completely. I want us to do this together, but...if you feel that you can't...then I know I can do it on my own."

He pulled her close to him again and let out a long breath. "As if I could let you do that. I just...God, I don't want anything to happen to you because of...because of me."

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. "Think of it this way," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "If I did fall pregnant in early August, then...then this baby survived through what Edward tried to do to me at the hotel that night. That's got to mean something, right?"

"Yes," he said, squeezing her gently but firmly. "It means I hate him even more."

Chapter Text

November 1993

Twelve days later

"Ms Green..." Ben took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I am not unsympathetic to the plight of women in violent and abusive relationships..."

"Really? You could have fooled me."

"...but your client did not kill her husband during a physical assault upon her person. She waited until he was asleep and then stabbed him four times in the chest! That is not self-defence!"

"She was beaten and abused by him for their entire marriage!" Shambala exclaimed. "Is it any wonder that she snapped?"

"She should have gone to the police!"

"He was a police officer, a decorated one at that! What sort of protection do you really think they would have given her?"

"That is not..."

"Haven't you heard of battered women's syndrome, Stone? Where a woman starts to believe that the abuse is her fault...that she can't get away from it..."

"I grant you that it is a symptom but it is not a justifiable excuse for murder!" He sighed. "Now, given her circumstances, I might be persuaded towards dealing her down to manslaughter one..."

"Forget it!" Shambala said. "The jury are going to take one look at her, hear her story and give her a pat on the back, not jail time."

"And that would be sending entirely the wrong message to the women of this city! Your partner abuses you, so it's all right to pick up a weapon and kill him whenever you feel like it?!"

"Right...and if Evelyn decided to put an end to that bastard of a husband of hers, you'd be the first one lined up with the handcuffs, would you?"

"We are not talking about Evelyn."

"No? Maybe we should be."

Ben's eyes flitted across the table to where Kevin was sitting watching them argue as though watching a tennis match. There had been a slight improvement in his capability over the preceding few weeks, Ben had to admit, but only slightly. Adam was pressurising him to agree to continue with him as his assistant and though he had acquiesced in the short term, he certainly wasn't ready or willing to allow the younger man into any of his personal confidences. Shambala followed his gaze and clearly realised his dilemma.

"Manslaughter two. She does a year and gets psychiatric treatment."

Ben shook his head. "Manslaughter one, she does eight and a third to fifteen."

"Well..." she lifted her briefcase from the table. "If you're going to maintain that piggish, prosecutorial position, I guess I'll be seeing you in court."

"I guess you will," Ben replied. "I'll...uh...walk you to the elevator."

"How chivalrous."

Kevin got to his feet. "Do you want me to...?"

"No, it's fine," Ben replied. "Don't you have arraignments in an hour anyway?"

"Oh...yes, of course...arraignments."

"Where did they find him?" Shambala asked as she and Ben left his office and headed along the hallway.

"I have no idea, but I wish they'd put him back again," Ben replied. "I...uh...got the feeling there was something you wanted to say to me back there, unrelated to this case."

Shambala stopped and turned to look at him. "I know it's not really any of my business, but our offices are next door to each other and I see her every day, probably more often than you do."

"And?"

"And she's worried."

Ben sighed. "I know that the case is bothering her, she'd be a strange person if it wasn't, and I am trying to do everything that I can to support her..."

"I'm not talking about the case," she interrupted. "I'm talking about the baby."

The baby.

Even mentioning it gave him a funny feeling inside. The day after Evelyn had told him, the blood test had simply confirmed what they had both already known and a scan, four days later, had clarified that conception had, in fact, happened more or less the first time that they had been intimate. Before Edward had attacked her. When the sonographer had confirmed the dates, she had squeezed his hand silently and though he should have felt happy and, to some extent had, his overwhelming feeling had been one of anger. Rage. Even greater than he had felt before. When he allowed himself to dwell on the fact that Edward had not only tried to hurt Evelyn that night, but his child too...it suddenly made him all too sympathetic towards people who would kill in the name of their loved ones.

But her health concerned him too, more than he had been prepared to admit to her those nights he had lain beside her in the dark, unable to sleep. "She's being cared for by the best doctors and I'm trying to get her to take things easy within the limits of what she'll allow me to suggest..."

"I don't think even the best doctors in the world can help when you're terrified that your pregnancy is going to ruin the father's chances of building a relationship with his existing children."

Ben paused, thrown slightly. "I don't understand."

"Come on, Ben," Shambala pushed the down button for the elevator. "Evelyn told me that you're considering trying to get custody of your kids which, I might add is very admirable for a man in your position, but she's terrified that when they find out they're getting a new baby brother or sister they'll turn against you. She doesn't want to be responsible for that."

"She told you this?"

"She doesn't have many friends, does she?" He shook his head. "Sometimes, there are just things that you can't tell the people you're meant to be the closest to. You need to talk to her." The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside. "Oh, and congratulations," she smiled. "I think new fatherhood is going to suit you."

XXXX

"You're going to be fine."

"I wish I shared your confidence."

"Evelyn, all you have to do on Monday is get up on the stand and tell the truth. Tell the jury what your life was like with him. Tell them what he did to you. I'll do the rest."

She sighed and looked down at the scrawled drawings on her legal pad, the result of a restless and confused mind. "I know. It's just...different when you're on this side of the witness box I guess."

"I know."

"I was kind of hoping that Eddie might have suggested a last minute plea deal, you know, something we could all have agreed on...put this whole thing to bed without a trial."

"I'm not prepared to deal him down to two assaults, regardless of how you feel," Jack said. "It wouldn't be right or fair to you and it certainly wouldn't give you the closure you need."

"I'm not sure anything is going to give me the closure I need," she said quietly.

He sighed. "Look, if you want to do more prep sessions this weekend, I'm happy to oblige, but I really don't think..."

"No," she interrupted. "No, I think it's best left until the real thing now. Besides, we're going up to Hartford this weekend to Ben's son's baseball game."

"Well that should be a good distraction for you."

"Yeah," she replied, absent-mindedly. Distraction was certainly one word for it, but bearing in mind what had happened the last time Laura and Ben had been together, she wasn't exactly looking forward to it. Though her sickness appeared to have passed, she didn't quite think she was up for a physical fight, which she knew she would be unable to shy away from if Laura tried anything. She wasn't sure if it was hormones or simply a growing attachment, but the thought of any other woman making any other kind of play for Ben only served to incite her instincts. "Anyway, I should go. I'm supposed to be covering arraignments this afternoon."

"Well, you've got my home number. If anything crops up over the weekend, feel free to give me a call."

"I will, thanks Jack." She replaced the receiver and let out a long breath. Two days. Two days until she would be on the stand. Until they would be on the stand. Her hand flitted down to her stomach, the image of the tiny life inside her burned into her memory. She would be twelve weeks pregnant in a matter of days. Further on than she had ever been before.

It had to be a good sign.

By the time she reached the courthouse for afternoon arraignments, the place was packed and her client's name was far down the list so she took a seat in the public benches to watch and wait. Nobody was keen to be there on a Friday afternoon, least of all Judge Stein, who was granting bail or not and banging her gavel for the next case practically before any defence attorney could utter a word. One after another, defendants were processed and in the post-lunch slump, she could feel her eyes starting to droop, until a hand landed on her shoulder and she looked up to see Claire smiling down at her.

"Hi."

"Hey," she got to her feet. "You lucked out this afternoon too, huh?"

"Yeah, but I've only two cases and they should both be remands so, technically, I should be in and out," Claire replied, checking her papers. "You don't have Belcher or Powell, do you?"

"Powell's mine," Evelyn replied. "I'll tell you now, the murder charge is inflated."

"Jack doesn't seem to think so."

"It's man one at the most."

"I'll let you and Jack argue over it once he's arraigned." She paused. "How are you feeling, you know, about next week?"

"Ok," Evelyn replied. "I talked to Jack about it earlier. I guess all I can do is just...go for it."

"It'll be over before you know it."

"I hope so."

At that point, the Powell case was called and she and Claire slid into professional mode, arguing back and forth about the merits of remand over high bail. The state eventually won and as Mr Powell was led away to await the bus to Rikers, she caught Claire's arm. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," Claire said, following her outside. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, it's just..." she paused, wondering if she should tell her, wondering indeed what the point was, and then deciding that it just might be nice to have someone else, someone she might consider a friend, aware of her news. "I didn't say anything to Jack earlier and maybe I should have."

"Something about the case?" Claire asked, her expression concerned.

"No...well...no, not directly," Evelyn said. "I mean, it shouldn't have any bearing on anything but, well, I'm pregnant."

The other woman's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "Wow...that's, uh, unexpected! I take it. it's good news...?"

"Yes," Evelyn said quickly, "yes it's good news. Unexpected, like you said, but good."

"I'm so happy for you," Claire hugged her briefly. "And Ben must be...surprised?"

"Surprised is probably the least of his reactions. Shocked, concerned..."

"I wouldn't have expected anything less from him," Claire said warmly. "He might try his best to keep it on the down low but, he really does love you, you know."

"I know," she replied, a warm feeling spreading inside just at the thought of him. "Anyway, I thought I'd better tell you. Feel free to tell Jack, it doesn't have to be a secret."

"I will and congratulations," Claire hugged her again. "When the trial's over, we should all go out for dinner to celebrate."

"I'd like that," Evelyn replied. "I'd like that a lot."

XXXX

"I hear you're taking Evelyn to Connecticut this weekend."

Ben looked up in surprise, "How did you hear that?"

"I hear everything," Adam said with a knowing smile. "You don't think I just sit in this office reading the papers, do you? Be good for you both to spend some time with your kids."

"Yeah..." he nodded. "I'm actually looking forward to watching Peter play tomorrow. It's been too long...and that's been my fault."

"Well, you can make up for it now. Funny, isn't it?"

"What?"

"The effect a good woman can have on a man."

"I didn't think you approved."

"I didn't. Not when she worked here. Now she's a public defender, you can do what you like, within reason." He sank down behind his desk. "Is she ready for Monday?"

Ben paused, "I think so. She hasn't said too much about it, but I know it's on her mind."

"She's a strong girl. Takes guts to do what she's done already. She'll do fine."

"Adam, she's pregnant." The older man raised his eyebrows in surprise and Ben nodded. "Yes, it's mine."

"Well I didn't think it was going to be the husband's." He paused. "When is she due?"

"April."

"You're a fast worker." Ben felt himself redden slightly. Adam was the closest he felt he had to a father and, like a father, he was eminently capable of making him feel like an errant teenager at times. "How do you feel about it?"

"Honestly? Terrified."

"It hasn't been that long, surely?"

"Thirteen years since I've had a newborn, not to mention the fact that, well, for most of the last ten I've not exactly been, what you might call, a hands on father." He paused, his regret seeming all the more poignant now in the face of what was to come. "I hope I can do better this time around."

"The minute they put that baby in your arms, you'll be fine," Adam said encouragingly.

"I worry about her health," Ben confided. "She's forty, with four previous miscarriages and that...that's not something I can really do anything to help her with."

Adam stood up and came around his desk. "She had four miscarriages because she was living with a piece of crap like Burns. It's different now." He dropped his hand onto Ben's shoulder in a show of congratulations. "You'll both do fine, my boy, just fine."

XXXX

"How was your day?"

"Fine," Evelyn replied, as they sat in traffic to get onto the interstate north. "Busy. I've been trying to get as much off my desk as possible for next week. I obviously don't know exactly how long I'm going to be on the stand but Jack thinks it could be at least two days, depending on how much Eddie's lawyer wants to grill me." She shivered slightly at the thought and hoped he had missed it.

Ben reached over and took her hand. "You'll do fine."

"I know." She paused. "Listen, you don't have to be there. I know it'll be hard listening to the evidence and you're a busy man..."

"I'm going to be there."

"Ben..."

"I'm going to be there," he insisted. "I can handle it if you can."

She looked out of the window. "When I go over it in my head, and even when we went over in it prep, I think that I'm going to be able to just answer dispassionately and...to the point. But when it comes down to it and Jack asks me specific things about what happened when I miscarried..." She felt him squeeze her hand tighter. "I guess being pregnant now just makes it seem worse. When I think back to how he threw me..."

"Don't think about it."

"But I have to. I'll be asked questions about it and I have to be able to tell the jury that the reason I finally decided to leave was because when I told him I was pregnant the last time, he threw me down the stairs." She glanced over and saw his jaw clenched in silent anger. "You'll need to listen to that."

"If you're worried about me hearing anything it should be what he did to you at the dinner," he said tightly, moving his hand down over her belly. "If I'd known then what I know now..."

"Probably best not to finish that thought," she said, lifting his hand and kissing it. "Besides, we're not going to mention the baby this weekend, are we?"

He looked over and met her gaze. "No. I guess we should keep it quiet for now."

She nodded and turned back to look out at the darkness. It would be the first time they had been to Peter's game. The first time Ben had been in a long time. The first time they would be on Laura's territory. The secret was best kept for the time being.

It was after eight by the time they reached the hotel and after checking in and grabbing a quick dinner on site, she felt relieved to pull on a pair of old pyjamas and climb into the big bed to watch television. Despite still being in the early stages, her clothes already seemed to be tightening and she longed for evenings after work when she could wear her most unflatteringly comfortable garments.

"Dirty weekend away and not even a sexy negligee?" Ben joked when he came out of the bathroom, dressed only in his underpants.

She laughed, "I'd hardly call a weekend with your ex and the kids watching baseball 'dirty'."

"Maybe not," he said, sliding onto the bed beside her and nuzzling into her neck."Doesn't mean that I don't sometimes fantasise about you wearing kinky underwear. Maybe something red...or black..."

"You buy me some and I'll wear it. But maybe best wait until after the baby comes, unless you have some kind of fetish for heavily pregnant women and crotchless panties, that is."

He laughed, kissed her and then pulled himself up on one elbow, his hand wandering down her stomach. "Trust me, after the baby comes, sexy underwear is going to be the last thing on either of our minds."

She smiled and reached up to touch his chin. "Sometimes I forget you've done this before. The dirty diapers, the sleepless nights..."

"And I can't wait to do it all again with you."

Even if it was only partially true, and she couldn't quite tell, her heart overflowed with love for him just for saying it and Claire's words from that afternoon came flooding back to her.

He really does love you, you know.

"I don't want you to worry about the kids," he said suddenly, pulling her back to reality.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't want you to be concerned about what they're going to say about the baby."

She paused as he voiced her greatest fear and tried to laugh it off. "I'm not worried. Honestly, I'm not."

"You're a terrible liar," he said, stroking her hair gently. "Shambala said..."

"Shambala?" She sat up quickly, "When were you talking to her?"

"She came to my office today for a meeting..."

"And what did she say?" she demanded angrily.

"She just said that you were worried about the kids reaction, that's all."

"I told her that in confidence! She had no right..."

"Hey, hey, hey..." he encouraged her down onto her back. "Don't be mad at her. She only mentioned it because she's concerned about you. She's your friend."

"Some friend," Evelyn grumbled, though she knew deep down he was right. "I only meant...I mean..."

"It's all right."

"But I don't want you to think that I don't want to support you or that I don't want the kids to come and live with you."

"I know. We'll work something out. You and the baby mean everything to me..."

"But Peter and Pamela..."

"Don't worry," he kissed her gently. "I promise you, it's all going to be ok. Right now, I just want you to relax." As he spoke, he slid his hand up under her top and gently ran his fingers over her breasts. Her nipples jumped to attention and she felt a stirring deep in her abdomen at his touch. Sex had very much taken a back seat in recent days partly, but not entirely, due to Ben being terrified to do anything in case he hurt her, and on the one occasion that they had been intimate, he had had to stop almost before they started because his mind had seemingly just shut down.

This time, however, she could sense a renewed confidence in him and she moved herself closer to him, wriggling her top up over her head and gasping as his mouth replaced his hand which, in turn, found its way to the sagging waistband of her sweatpants and pulled them gently downwards. His fingers skimmed across her knickers and she felt her body jerk slightly. His lips moved up from her breasts, across her collar bone and into her neck before finding her mouth and kissing her deeply as she slid her hands down his back, divesting him of his underpants and finding him hard and ready between them.

As he made to open her legs and slip between her thighs, she placed her hand on his chest, gently pushing him away from her. His eyes registered confusion until she encouraged him to roll over onto his back and slid her way down his body until her head was level with his pelvis. Looking up, she smiled and pushed every negative thought she had from her mind.

"Counsellor, I think it's time that you relaxed..."

Chapter Text

The following morning brought blue skies and a crisp wind so Ben was grateful that he had in fact packed one of the warm, thick sweaters his mother always insisted sending him for his birthday 'for those cold New York winters.' The way she talked about it, it was as if she lived in Miami, not Michigan where the winters were as bad if not worse. In any event, he knew it would be freezing at the park so he had to be grateful to her for something.

"Are you ready?" He turned to see Evelyn standing in the bathroom doorway, equally wrapped up in fleece lined pants and a wool sweater, her hair tumbling down her shoulders, lit like fire from behind by the sun. "Do you think I should put my hair up or just leave it?"

He walked over to her and pulled her gently into him, the sensation of her tresses tickling his stomach the previous evening seared into his memory. "I think it looks great just as it is. You sure you're going to be warm enough? I don't want you and the baby to catch cold."

"I've got my jacket," she smiled indulgently, "and as for the baby, I don't think you can catch cold when you're still inside your mother's belly." He reached down and stroked her gently. "You can't see anything yet, can you?"

"No," he replied honestly. "But we know it's there."

"Well, if anyone does say anything I guess I can just say that I'm getting fat." She pulled back. "We should go. We don't want to miss the first pitch."

The park was only ten minutes away and, as he drove, Ben couldn't help but be apprehensive about the morning ahead. He knew Peter and Pamela would be pleased to see them, or at least he hoped they would, but he was less sure about Laura. Would she ignore them and shoot hate filled glances from the bleachers? Would she be pleasant? Would she make any reference to what had happened in his apartment and, if she did, what should he say? There were so many variables running around in his head that he missed Evelyn's question the first time she asked it.

"Ben?"

"Sorry sweetheart, what was that?"

"I was just asking what case it was Shambala came to talk to you about yesterday."

"Oh...uh..." he paused, not really wanting to get into the details with her for obvious reasons. "Just a homicide."

She didn't say anything for a long moment. "Nicola Foster?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Did she try to get you to take man two?" He nodded. "And you told her you'd only go as low as man one, right?"

"You obviously know me too well," he joked, but glancing over saw that her expression was serious. "Evelyn, she killed her husband while he was in bed asleep. However you want to dress it up, and dress it up she did, it was murder."

"I know."

"I understand what the woman has been through and while I'm sure Shambala can pull at a lot of heartstrings with her story, it doesn't change the law."

"I know," she repeated. "It's funny, though, isn't it?"

"What is?" he asked, unable to find any humour in the Foster case.

"If I had killed Eddie back in March rather than leaving him, we would have met under very different circumstances. You'd be cross-examining me in a courtroom instead of sleeping with me and getting me pregnant."

Although her tone was light, he could read the deeper meaning underneath. "I think they frown upon prosecutors who fall in love with defendants," he chose to say.

"Yeah," she mused, turning to look out of the window. "I suppose they do."

Before he could say anything else, they were turning into the parking lot, already thronged with other vehicles, and in the distance he could see a rabble of teenagers, some dressed in the blue and white uniforms of Peter's team and the others in red and black. The supporters were milling their way onto opposing bleachers and even though it was busy, when he stepped out of the car, he caught sight of Laura and Pamela standing a few feet away.

"I was just thinking," Evelyn said, as she came around the car towards him. "Peter's going to be sixteen soon, right?"

"Yes, in March."

"Do you think he'll keep playing once he's too old for Little League?"

"I don't know," he took her hand and squeezed it, hoping they weren't going to return to the previous conversation. "Maybe he'll decide he wants to take it up professionally."

"All that interest in guns and murders had me thinking he might want to be a lawyer...or a cop."

"Well if it's a choice between the two, I hope he picks the law," Ben said honestly as they made their way towards the field. "I don't think I'd like the idea of him patrolling the streets with a gun. Too much can happen, as we both know." At that moment, Pamela turned and caught sight of them, her face lighting up, and she hurried towards them.

"You guys are here!" she exclaimed, throwing herself first at her father and then at Evelyn.

"Did you think we wouldn't be?" Ben asked, surprised and gratified by her affection.

She shrugged. "Peter thought you might have changed your mind."

"I talked to him two days ago. He knew we were coming." Despite all the years that he knew he had let his kids down, it still hurt to think that either of them thought he didn't care. "Where is he anyway? Already out with the team?"

"Yeah, come on!" Pamela grabbed his hand. "I know where the best seats are."

As they approached where Laura was waiting, she turned to look at him, her expression cool. There was no hint of the frenzied emotion displayed on the last occasion and, for that at least, he was grateful. "Hello Ben," she said calmly. "I'm glad you made it."

"I never intended not to make it," he replied, equally as calmly.

"Hmmm..." she swivelled her gaze to Evelyn. "You must be Evelyn."

"And you must be Laura," Evelyn replied pleasantly, holding out her hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

Laura's eyes flitted to Ben and then back again before she returned the gesture. "Pamela's told me a lot about you."

"Come on!" Pamela said, pulling at Ben's arm. "We'll miss the start!"

"No Mark?" Ben asked casually as they made their way towards the bleachers.

"No," Laura replied. "He had to work. Excuse me, I'll just be a moment." She disappeared into the crowd as Pamela finally located the seats she wanted and insisted that they sit down.

It was a good vantage point, he had to admit, and though the kids seemed interchangeable in their uniforms, he picked Peter out straight away. He was at least a whole head taller than many of the others, lean and gangly, though with a speed the likes of which he had never seen in a teenager before. As the game progressed, Peter scored more home runs than anyone and his batting was pretty spectacular too.

"I think he'd be wasted in the law," Evelyn commented at one point. "He should definitely try and turn pro."

"You think he's good?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"Don't you?"

"Well, yes, but I thought I was maybe just being biased because he's my son."

"Be biased all you like," she said, slipping her hand into his. "But he's definitely got a talent."

Laura never rejoined them and Peter's team eventually won by a comfortable margin. As they all congratulated each other on the field, he looked up, saw them and waved happily. Ben waved back, a lump forming in his throat. It was the first time in a long time that Peter had seemed happy to see him.

"What did you think?" Peter asked, when they had made their way back down to the field. "I knew we were going to win."

"You were incredible!" Ben enthused. "I never knew you could run like that."

"That's because you haven't seen me play for ages. I've come on a lot in the last year, or so Coach says."

"Your coach is right." He paused. "I'm really proud of you, son."

Peter's cheeks reddened slightly, even more so than they already had in the wind. "Thanks."

"Aren't you proud of me too?" Pamela piped up.

"Of course," he turned to her and ruffled her hair. "I couldn't be prouder of both of you."

"Do you think I'm good?" Peter asked, turning his attention to Evelyn.

"I agree with your dad," she replied. "Not to mention, I think you might have helped reignite my love for the game with that performance. We'll need to go see the Mets next time you come to visit." Peter smiled broadly and blushed again.

"Good game," Laura said, appearing beside them.

"Thanks," Peter replied, his tone slightly muted. "Is it ok if I go for pizza with Jake and the others?"

"Yes, but aren't you going to ask your father and Evelyn if they want to have dinner with us later?"

"Yes!" Pamela jumped up. "Yes, please have dinner with us!"

The thought of dinner at Laura's house filled him with dread and as he was about to decline, she smiled, almost as if she had read his mind. "We always go to Trader Joe's the night of Peter's games. It would be nice if you would join us." He paused. "But if you have other plans..."

"No, I mean we're driving back to the city tonight..."

"It won't be late," Peter said enthusiastically.

Ben looked at Evelyn who merely nodded as Pamela whooped and leapt in the air. "We'd love to."

"Wonderful," Laura said, though her tone didn't quite match the words. "Six o'clock?"

"Fine." They parted amicably and Ben took hold of Evelyn's hand again as they made their way back to the car. "Well that was a turn up for the books. If we have dinner together tonight this will be the longest time that Laura and I have been in each other's company for, I don't know, years."

"It's a good sign," she squeezed his hand. "The kids seem so happy that you're here too."

"That we're here."

"Oh no, it's your time and approval they want, Ben, not mine."

"Well, speaking of time..." he looked at his watch. "What are we going to do in Hartford for the next...oh...five hours?"

"I can think of one thing," she replied with a smile.

"Really..." he slid his arm around her waist. "What might that be?"

"Well..." she wriggled her eyebrows. "I've always wanted to see Mark Twain's house."

XXXX

Trader Joe's was crowded and Evelyn couldn't help but feel relieved. The loud music and chatter almost made the whole situation somewhat less awkward, though she couldn't fail to notice the long look Mark gave her as she sat down beside him. The introduction had been perfunctory, him showing little emotion at her greeting, but Peter and Pamela chattered away about the game and what else they had done that day, Ben told them about Mark Twain's house and at least seemed pleased that most of their conversation appeared to be directed at him. When Evelyn looked up from her menu, however, Laura was staring at her across the table.

"Evelyn, don't have the spaghetti," Pamela declared suddenly, pulling her back into the moment.

"What?"

"Don't have the spaghetti," she repeated. "You don't want to be sick again."

Glancing at Ben, she fought to keep her expression neutral. "No, you're right. That was weird that day, huh? I was thinking I might have the waffles, what do you think?"

"Oh they're so good!" Peter piped up. "You have to have them with bacon and syrup too. In fact, I think I'm going to have that."

"I thought you wanted a burger?" Ben said.

"I did, but I think now I want waffles."

The chatter rolled away from her and after everyone appeared to have decided what they were going to order Peter started talking about school, a topic that caught Ben's attention. Evelyn listened, and offered comment when required, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched and every time she lifted her eyes, Laura was still staring at her.

"What is it you do, Mark?" she asked, shifting her gaze to the man at her side who, thus far, had kept fairly quiet.

"Construction," he replied. "I own my own company."

"And you had to work on a Saturday? I thought being your own boss would mean you would have other people to do that for you."

"Yeah well...I'm not a big baseball fan. Football's more my game."

"I didn't think Connecticut had an NFL team?"

"It doesn't," he said. "But I'm originally from Winthrop, so I support the Patriots."

The waitress appeared at that point so further conversation was lost in a flurry of orders and, by the time she was finished, Evelyn found she had a desperate need to pee. "Excuse me," she said, pushing her chair back from the table. "Call of nature."

The restroom was surprisingly quiet, the heavy door immediately blocking out the noise from the main restaurant and she found herself letting out a long breath of relief as well as an impressive stream of urine. It was funny how pregnancy could affect so many things, particularly one's toilet habits. She suddenly wondered if she would be given comfort breaks whilst on the stand.

Finally flushing, she opened the stall door and hurried over to wash her hands.

"You're not what I expected."

"Jesus!" she jumped at the sound of Laura's voice behind her and, turning, saw the other woman standing just inside the door watching her. "You scared me." No apology was offered so Evelyn girded her loins for the inevitable. "What did you expect?"

Laura shrugged, "I'm not sure, though I suppose you're the quintessential younger model."

Evelyn laughed in spite of herself. "I'm forty, not twenty-five and you've been divorced a long time so you can hardly claim that he's traded you in." The other woman held her gaze. "Look, I don't want things to be awkward between us, for the kids' sakes."

"Oh, so you do care about my children?"

"Yes, I do," she replied honestly. "They're great kids and I'm looking forward to getting to know them better."

Laura's eyes narrowed. "So you agree with Ben that they should come and live with him?"

"It's not up to me," Evelyn said. "But if that was what they wanted..."

"He doesn't know what they want," Laura interrupted, moving closer to her. "That's half the problem. He thinks he does. He thinks that just because you all spent one good weekend together without fighting that he should turn their worlds upside down."

"That's not what he thinks at all..."

"Really? You've known him for, what, all of five months and you're an expert? I've known him for more than twenty years. Back in the days when he wore tweed suits and had a hell of a lot more hair."

Unsure whether or not Laura was trying to use humour to get her onside, and desperate to maintain loyalty to Ben, Evelyn dried her hands on a paper towel and tossed it into the trashcan near the door. "I'm not going to get into this with you, Laura. It's between you and Ben, not me."

"I don't want him, if that's what you think."

"Forgive me if your actions a few weeks ago make me doubt that somewhat."

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Evelyn froze. The words were said quietly, without malice or anger, but rather almost with regret and for a moment, she considered denying the whole thing.

"I'm not blind."

"Blind?"

"The way he's been looking at you. The way he touches you. Oh I know some people might say it's just because you're at the start of your relationship and it's still the honeymoon period where you spend most of your time fucking but..." she nodded, "I can tell. I can remember what it was like. He looked at me that way when I was expecting Peter." Her eyes flickered up and down. "You're not showing yet so I'm guessing about...three months?" Evelyn said nothing. "I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for."

"I think I do," she replied as robustly as she could.

Laura smiled sadly. "Well, let's hope that five years from now you're not looking back on your life thinking 'what the hell happened' as a tiny amount of child support trickles into your bank account each month." She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. "I take it Peter and Pamela don't know. Well, of course they don't. My daughter wouldn't have been able to keep something like that secret. Don't worry, I won't say anything."

"I'd rather you didn't," Evelyn said carefully. "We both would."

"Yes, I can imagine Ben would want to keep it quiet for now. The kids might not be as keen as he thinks to stay with him if they knew they were being replaced."

Evelyn fought to stop herself from rising to the bait and telling Laura exactly what she thought of her, but she knew they had both most likely been absent from the table for too long and she was keen to get back to an ally. "If you'll excuse me," she said, making to open the door, but Laura grabbed her arm before she could complete the manoeuvre and swung her round sharply. History, and a keen sense of possessiveness over the life now inside her, almost made Evelyn lash out in response, but she simply took a breath. "Take your hands off me." Laura released her instantly and she pulled open the door and made her way back through the crowds to the table where Ben and the children were in the middle of a lively debate. Mark was nowhere to be seen.

"Evelyn, was Mom in the restroom with you?" Pamela asked innocently as she sat back down.

"Yes," she said, pulling her napkin onto her lap as the waitress appeared with the plates. "She's just coming." As the food was put down in front of them, Laura reappeared and slid back into her seat, Mark not far behind, neither of them venturing to look at her. She started slightly as Ben's hand slid onto her knee and he gave her a reassuring smile, which she returned as best she could before turning to focus on her meal.

XXXX

"Well what did she say to you?" Ben asked as they made their way back to the city.

There had been an unmistakable air of tension once Evelyn and Laura had returned to the table, but good sense had prevented him from making comment and the children had chattered endlessly, seemingly oblivious to it all. They had both been upset when it had come time for him and Evelyn to leave and, for the first time in a long time, Peter had embraced him quite tightly. Even now, he could still feel his son's arms around him.

"What you might expect," Evelyn replied with a sigh. "That you don't know what the kids want and...well..."

"And well what?"

"She knows about the baby."

"You told her?"

"Of course I didn't tell her!" she exclaimed. "She guessed. Something about the way you were looking at me apparently reminded her so much of how you used to look at her when she was expecting Peter." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I half expected the restroom to collapse around us as she collected her Emmy award for best actress."

"I'm sorry," he reached for her hand. "I'm grateful that you came."

"Oh, I wouldn't have missed it. Laura and Mark aside, it was great spending time with the kids. It seems as though things are getting better between you each time you see them."

"True..."

"Have you thought about when you're going to ask them?"

He paused. Two weeks earlier, if things had been progressing as well as they seemed to be now, he would have jumped at the chance to ask Peter and Pamela to come and live with him, but now...now he had to admit that the baby had changed everything.

"Ben?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, glancing over his shoulder to switch lanes. "Maybe I should leave it a bit longer."

"You're not changing your mind, are you?"

"What if I was?"

"Ben...I thought you were convinced that they were unhappy, that they'd be better off with you?"

"I was."

"And now you don't think that?"

"Evelyn, like it or not, the fact that we're having a child together changes things. I mean...when we live together we'll be struggling for room as it is and...well...maybe it wouldn't be fair to ask the kids to come and live with a newborn." She didn't reply and he glanced over to see her shadowed profile as she stared out of the windscreen. "You don't agree?"

"I think you've changed your mind pretty easily."

"I haven't changed my mind," he argued. "I'm just still thinking about it, that's all."

"Just because we're having a baby doesn't mean that you can suddenly forget about Peter and Pamela," she said quietly.

"That is not what I'm doing!" he retorted angrily. "I am trying to think about their feelings in all of this! You don't think it's going to be a shock for them to find out about the baby?"

"I think it's going to be more of a shock when their mother tells them that you were so keen to have them come and live with you right up until you got your new girlfriend knocked up."

"Is that how you see it?" he asked, stunned at her apparent crassness.

"It's how they might see it," she replied. "They might think that you're replacing them with the new baby and that you really don't care about them after all."

"That's not true!"

"I know that." She paused. "If you want my opinion, I think you should tell them about the baby at the same time as you ask them if they want to come and stay with you. Make it clear that you want them to be part of that, part of this new family. This is not a do-over, Ben. You can't right all the wrongs of your relationship with them through this baby."

He opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again. Part of him did consider it a second chance, a chance to do everything differently, a chance to be there for her and their baby in a way that he had to admit he never really had been for Laura once the kids came along. But in taking that chance, he knew that he couldn't erase Peter and Pamela, nor would he ever want to. She was right. He had to find a way to include them. Besides, deep down he was still convinced that they weren't happy at home.

"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he asked, turning onto her block.

"Of course," she looked over at him. "Don't you want to?"

"Yes, but not if we're going to argue."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm not trying to interfere or tell you what to do. At the risk of repeating myself...they're your children."

"And they will be your stepchildren once we're married," he replied, pulling into the kerb and turning off the engine. "Not to mention our baby's half-siblings." She smiled. "Are you mad at me?"

"About the kids? No, of course not."

"What about the Foster case?" He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. "What you said earlier wasn't lost on me you know."

"Yeah..." she sighed, "but you were right. The law is the law and she didn't act in self-defence. If I'd killed Eddie in his sleep, I'd expect you to prosecute me to the hilt too."

"But of course sleeping with you and getting you pregnant is so much more fun, right?" he joked.

"Oh definitely," she replied, opening the door and stepping out. "And, from what I've read, the second trimester is the time when the woman is meant to feel at her best."

"Meaning what?" he asked, putting his arm around her as they walked towards her building.

"Meaning you'd better take all the sex you can get in the next three months because after that, there isn't going to be any." She kissed his cheek. "Or so I've read."

"I think you're doing too much reading," he kissed the top of her head. "I've read that it's not good for you."

"Sex?"

"Reading."

Later, when he would be asked for a description, he would only remember the raincoat and the hat. And the fact that it was a man that stepped out from between two cars as they approached the steps, effectively blocking their path.

"Excuse us," he said, making to step around, but the man moved with them, reaching into his pocket as he did so and smoothly pulling out something that shone in the streetlight and, to his eye, could only be a gun. He heard Evelyn take a sharp intake of breath and stiffen beside him and he automatically reached into his pocket for his wallet, when a sudden blow from behind sent him crashing to the ground and he met the cold concrete face on, striking his head and scuffing his hands.

"Ben!" He heard Evelyn scream."Oh my God! Please...please, I'll give you what you want...my purse...please..."

He fought to get himself to his knees, his head ringing with pain.

"Oh God no...please...!" Her tone became more panicked. "Please don't...please, my baby, please not my baby...!"

A gun went off and he heard the sound of running feet as he finally lifted his head in time to see Evelyn stagger, reach out for the wall of the building and then slide to the ground.

XXXX

After the initial adrenaline rush had worn off, the shock set in. She found herself trembling uncontrollably, her knees shaking, almost unable to bear the weight of her body. She found the wall with her hand and pressed against it in the vain hope that its very being would stop her from falling. But it didn't. The rushing noise in her ears grew louder, her vision started to cloud and before she could utter a word, felt herself slide towards the floor.

He was there immediately, in front of her, his mouth forming words that she couldn't hear. He was trying to help her to her feet, but her body was protesting with every attempt, her limbs so heavy. She tried to explain, tried to convey that it wasn't her fault that she couldn't stand, but the connection between her brain and her mouth appeared to be lost, severed as a result of the preceding few moments and a dull ache started in her stomach.

His hands were on either side of her face, holding her head steady, forcing her to look at him and yet she felt her eyelids droop with the seeming desperate need for sleep. He was shaking her, gently but firmly, but all she wanted to do was close her eyes and rest.

It was good to sleep.

Chapter Text

It was like something out of a dream.

Or a nightmare.

By the time he reached her, her eyes were already rolling back in her head and her coat was saturated with blood. When he pulled it open, hoping to find a wound he could try to stem, he was simply met with more and more blood, more than he'd ever thought could flow from a person in such a short space of time. He called her name, shook her, tried to lift her...but her limp body was too heavy and the pain in his head made him feel woozy.

He didn't know who had called it in, but moments later he heard sirens, faint at first and then growing louder, until suddenly two EMTs were gently prising him away from her and a uniformed cop was leading him over to sit on the stoop.

"No, I want to stay with her," he heard himself say weakly. "Please, let me stay with her."

The officer was asking him questions: could he remember what happened...could he describe the shooter...?

"A man...he had a coat and a hat..." That was all. All he could think of. Why was that all?

The officer couldn't have been more than twenty five and suddenly, Evelyn's words about Peter perhaps joining the force came back to him, as did his response.

"Too much can happen as we both know..."

One of the EMTs appeared beside the officer. "We need to get her to hospital now."

"I'm going with her," he said, getting to his feet and staggering slightly as he walked to the ambulance, the officer holding onto his arm and helping him climb aboard. She was on the gurney, pale...lifeless, the blood dripping over the metal edges and pooling on the floor underneath. He didn't know what to do. So he sat watching her, his eyes never leaving her face, as they sped through the streets, weaving through traffic until they arrived at the hospital and he was helped down by one of the nurses who had rushed to greet them.

"Sir, if you'd come with me..." she said, gently taking his arm and trying to lead him.

"No, I want to go with her," he protested, trying to follow the gurney as it sped away. "Please..."

"Sir, you need to be examined," she insisted. "You've taken a nasty blow to the head."

"I'm fine. I'm fine, please..." For all he knew he could have wrenched his arm out of her grip and taken off down the hall, he found himself complying and allowing her to lead him into a room and over to a bed. A light was shone in his eyes...someone was asking him questions...his name, his age, if he could remember what happened...but it felt as though he was falling down a black hole. The voices grew quieter, the light started to fade and before he could stop himself, he leaned over the side of the bed and vomited on the floor.

XXXX

"Ben?"

He started suddenly at both the sound of his own name and the weight of a hand gently resting on his shoulder and he looked up into the concerned face of Lennie Briscoe. Immediately, he felt his chest thud. Homicide cops...

"She's dead."

Lennie frowned, "What?"

"Evelyn...she's dead. That's...that's what you came to tell me."

"No," he replied quickly. "No, I just spoke to the doctor and they're still working on her. Here, come on, it can't be too comfortable down there." Lennie held out his hand and Ben suddenly realised that he had been sitting on the floor next to the bed, thankfully now cleared of his earlier expectorate. Accepting the offer, he slowly got to his feet and sank onto the bed, his head starting to pound again with the movement. "Are you all right?"

"It's...it's just a bump," he replied, his fingers going to the egg shaped lump on his forehead and then to the tender spot on the back of his neck, wincing as a jolt of pain shot through him.

"What have they said?" Mike asked, appearing from behind his partner.

"They...uh...they looked in my eyes and said it was probably nothing to worry about but they want me to go for a CT just to rule out any internal bleeding..." he trailed off, his mind's eye instantly revisiting the sight of her bloodied body. "Did they tell you anything...how she is...?"

"No," Lennie said quietly. "Just that they were still working on her."

"Working on her..." Ben closed his eyes. He'd seen enough bad medical dramas on TV to know what that meant.

"Look, do you think you're up to answering a few questions?" Mike asked, taking out his notebook. "We know you spoke to the officer on the scene, but maybe you might remember something more now?"

He opened his eyes again. In all honestly, he couldn't remember talking to the officer at the time. But he remembered everything else. How could he ever forget?

"We were walking to her building from the car. We were talking and then...this man stepped out into our path."

"Did he come from the building or the road?"

"The road."

"And had you seen him before he stepped in front of you? Maybe, when you initially got out of the car?" Ben shook his head. "Can you describe him?"

"Male, white...he had on a...a long coat and a hat..."

"What kind of hat?" Lennie asked. "A woollen hat? Bowler hat?"

"No, like...like a deerstalker, I think," Ben replied. "I don't know, I didn't pay much attention...and then he pulled out the gun. I thought he was going to mug us..."

"A mugger in a long coat and a deerstalker?" Mike asked.

"That's what I thought, ok?" Ben snapped. "I thought he was going to mug us, so I was reaching for my wallet when someone hit me from behind and I...I fell forwards onto the ground. That's when I hit my head."

"Had you seen a second guy before that?"

"No."

"After you were knocked down," Lennie said. "Did you hear if he said anything?"

"Oh my God! Please...please, I'll give you what you want...my purse...please..."

He shook his head. "No, all I could hear was...was Evelyn...screaming..."

"Oh God no...please...! Please don't...please, my baby, please not my baby...!"

"Then a shot." He put his head in his hands, desperate to block it out but knowing that he never would be able to.

"Ok..." Lennie said, touching his shoulder again. "That's fine for now. We've got officers out canvassing the building and the street to see if anyone else saw or heard anything. Is there anyone we can call for you?"

"No," Ben lifted his head again. "But...Evelyn's mother...she'll need to be told."

"It's already being taken care of. Two uniforms are going to bring her down here." Lennie paused. "Are you sure there's no-one we can call?"

He didn't say anything. Was there anyone to call? Laura...the kids...Adam...Jack...all of them needed to know and yet paled into insignificance when the one person he wanted to see, wanted to speak to...what if he never got to speak to her again?

"No," he said finally. "There's no-one."

XXXX

It was an hour or so later when Susan arrived, clearly distressed and desperate for news of her daughter. Ben had had his CT, been given the all clear and politely been requested to move to the waiting area due to the fact that the staff obviously needed the bed. Clutching the prescription for heavy duty painkillers that he had been given, he was sitting in a small enclave of chairs, away from the immediate hustle and bustle, when she came in.

"Ben!" she gasped, upon seeing him. "My God, what happened? Is she alright? Have you seen her?" He tried as best he could to answer her questions. She was shot...I don't know...no...and he hoped that she would sit down and join him in silent contemplation, but instead she circled the area, wringing her hands and declaring over and over again that she couldn't believe what was happening. "After everything she's been through," she said. "How is this possible, how?"

He didn't say anything. What could he say? It was possible. It had happened.

"The baby..." she said suddenly, turning to him. "Have they said anything about the baby?"

He shook his head mutely. The baby. He didn't want to think about the baby. It was too dangerous a territory right now.

"Who did this?!" Susan declared angrily. "Who would want to hurt her like this?"

"It was a mugger," he heard himself say. "There was nothing we could do."

"A mugger?" she looked at him. "Why would...? I always told her that if anyone ever threatened her for her purse she should just hand it over. I don't understand...I just don't understand..."

"Neither do I," he said. "Neither do I."

XXXX

He had lost track of the time.

Walking to the door of the ER and back again had only shown him that it was still dark outside. There didn't appear to be any clocks anywhere and his watch had stopped. He knew it must be Sunday, the early hours perhaps. Only a few short hours ago they had been in Hartford. Everything had been fine. Now...

When he got back to the waiting area, Susan was sitting cradling a plastic cup of bad coffee and rocking gently back and forwards. As he watched her, he suddenly realised that Evelyn was her daughter. Not that he obviously hadn't known it before, but suddenly he looked at her as a parent. A parent desperately waiting for news of their child and he was reminded of the terrible drive he had made to Hartford after Pamela's accident when he hadn't known how she was or even if she was alive. If he were in Susan's shoes now...if it had been one of the children that had been shot...how would he have borne it?

"Mr Stone? Mrs Nicholls?" He started as a doctor suddenly approached them and Susan leapt to her feet. "I'm Dr Jackson. I'm one of the residents treating Evelyn."

"How is she?" Ben asked, in no frame of mind for introductions.

"Would you like to come with me?" he gestured to a door a few feet behind them and then opened it to reveal a small, private waiting room with a coffee table and large armchairs. "Please sit down." Susan sat, but Ben remained standing. "I'm pleased to say that we've managed to stabilise Evelyn's blood pressure by giving her fluids and several blood transfusions."

"Several?" Susan echoed.

"She lost a significant amount of blood, almost half her total volume," he said and Ben shuddered slightly at the memory. "That's why it's taken so long for us to be able to get her pressure up to within as normal a range as we can expect right now. We've also successfully removed the bullet so the plan is to get her up to intensive care within the next hour and monitor her closely for the next few days."

"Is she conscious?" Susan asked.

"No, not yet and it's likely she won't be for some time. She's still considered critical." Dr Jackson paused. "I don't want you to be under any false illusions about her condition."

"You mean...she could still die?"

He nodded. "I...understand that Evelyn's married, is that correct?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ben asked.

"Well...I think it would be prudent if her husband were here. There are certain things that need to be discussed..."

"He doesn't need to be here."

"I appreciate that you might feel that way, however given the circumstances I really do think it would be better if he were here..."

"He's currently on bail bond not to approach her and he's due to stand trial tomorrow for beating and raping her so, believe me sir, it really wouldn't be better if he were here," Ben said sharply, trying to keep his temper. "I'm..." he took a breath. "I'm the father of the baby."

Dr Jackson nodded slowly. "I understand." He paused. "In some respects, Evelyn was lucky. There was only one shot and the bullet passed cleanly through her abdomen and embedded itself in her uterine wall. It was intact when we removed it so there are no fragments to be concerned about, but I'm afraid that because of the trajectory of the bullet, and the significant blood loss sustained, we were unable to save the baby."

He had known it was coming, almost right from the second that she had cried out for the gunman not to hurt her baby. He had tried to tell himself that it might be ok...that it was a good hospital, with skilled doctors and that maybe there was a chance...but deep down he had known.

"I'm very sorry."

"Will she be able to...I mean, could she get pregnant again?" Susan asked, her voice thick with emotion.

"Right now our main focus is on getting her through the next few days, " Dr Jackson said. "Whilst I'm not a gynaecological specialist, there was no damage to her uterus other than from the entry and, from what I could see, her ovaries and tubes were all still intact. There's no immediate reason to think that subsequent pregnancies wouldn't be possible." He rummaged in his pocket as a sudden bleeping noise started. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to go to another patient but as soon as Evelyn's upstairs I'll get a nurse to take you to her. And, if you have any other questions, I'll be around later on." With a final smile and nod, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Susan turned to look at him, her face streaked with tears. "Ben...I'm so sorry."

He wanted to cry, knew that he should cry. His child was gone...their child was gone. And yet he felt devoid of tears, devoid of everything. He felt her hand on his arm, knew that she was expecting more from him, and yet all her could do was nod.

XXXX

The sky had started to lighten when he ventured to the vending machine with the change he had found in his pocket. He didn't feel like eating, but there was no way of knowing how much longer it was going to be before he could see Evelyn and his head was starting to hurt again. As he slipped the money into the slot, he heard his name being called and turned to see Jack and Claire hurrying towards him, both looking stunned.

"What the hell happened?" Jack asked as they reached him. "Is she ok?"

"They're moving her to intensive care," he replied flatly. "They've removed the bullet and transfused her and they want to monitor her now..." No matter how many times he said it in his head, it still caused him physical pain to say the words out loud, regardless of whether or not he could shed tears. "She...uh...she lost the baby."

"Oh God..." Claire clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh Ben..."

"I'm...sorry," Jack said, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Claire only told me about the baby on Friday." He paused. "The police said it was a mugging?" Ben nodded slowly. "Are you all right?"

It almost seemed like a farcical question. He had a bump on the head, Evelyn had been shot in the gut. Where was the comparison? "I'm fine," he replied.

"I'm going to wake up Judge Callaghan's clerk and tell him we need a continuance tomorrow. There's no way she can testify now."

"Well that'll please Diamond," Claire said, "not to mention Edward."

Ben froze suddenly at her words. It would please Edward. It certainly would please Edward. It would delay him from the inevitable conviction and prison sentence and if she were ultimately to die...Mike's words, the ones that had so irritated him at the time, suddenly came back to him like a train rushing through a tunnel.

"A mugger in a long coat and a deerstalker?"

"He wasn't a mugger."

"Who wasn't?" Jack asked.

"The man that shot her...he wasn't a mugger. Of course. It was Burns...that...that son-of-a-bitch!"

"Woah, woah, calm down..." Jack said, reaching out to take his arm. "I don't understand what you're saying..."

"Who benefits out of all of this?" Ben asked wildly. "He does! Evelyn gets shot right before the trial starts and she can't testify! If she dies, she never testifies! Nothing about what he did to her ever comes out and he gets to keep all of his money! That...that bastard!"

"You think he ordered a hit?" Claire asked. "He's a Brooklyn lawyer, not a mobster."

"He might just be a lawyer," Jack mused, "but who's he in business with? Mobsters. The Lucchese family."

"Jack..." Ben grabbed his jacket. "You have to have him arrested. You have to have him arrested and arraigned and locked up in Rikers. He did this to her and he has to pay for it...he has to..."

"Ok," Jack said, "take it easy..."

"You do it now. Do it now!" He was losing control and he knew it, but he didn't care. Edward. Edward had done this. Edward had tried to kill her, perhaps had killed her...had killed the baby...their baby...he didn't know what he was saying anymore, all he knew was that he was shouting something at Jack who was trying to calm him and then...then he was in Claire's arms and she was holding him, holding him tightly the way he wanted Evelyn to...and he was crying.

XXXX

It was morning, properly morning.

It was quiet in intensive care, almost as though there was an unwritten rule to walk and talk softly lest anyone be wakened from their unnatural sleep. The only real noise was the whirr of machines and the occasional bleeping. It had taken longer than anticipated for them to be allowed to see Evelyn. Dr Jackson had come back to tell them that they had just moved her when her pressure had crashed again and they needed to re-stabilise her.

He felt like a shell, a husk, not a whole person. He didn't know how long he had stood, weeping on Claire's shoulder but afterwards they had accompanied him back to the room where Susan was still waiting and talked in hushed tones in the corner while he had sat, drained, wishing with all his heart that he had done something long before it had gotten to this.

The nurse led them into a room containing four beds, all with the curtains drawn, and walked over to a bed at the far end. She gently pulled the curtain back and he got his first glimpse of Evelyn. There wasn't a scratch on her. Nothing to indicate the trauma that she had been through except, of course, for the tube down her throat, the wires, the machines...he watched as Susan rushed forward to the bedside, a cry escaping her throat at the sight of her daughter. She collapsed in the chair beside the bed, took Evelyn's hand in hers and held it up to her face.

"Oh my baby..." she sobbed. "My poor baby..."

He felt rooted to the spot and it was only when the nurse touched his arm gently and gestured that he moved round to the opposite side of the bed and sat down. They wouldn't be allowed to stay long, ten minutes at most the doctor had said. Reaching for her hand, he felt surprised at how warm she felt. For some reason, he had thought she would be cold, but touching her now felt like touching her as he always had and he half expected her to open her eyes, sit up and ask what all the fuss was about.

Six months. Six months since the afternoon she had accosted him on the street outside the courthouse. Six months since he had chewed her out for being late that first morning. Six months since his perception of her had been completely turned on its head. Six months since she had come into his life and now...now she could be leaving it again.

Susan looked up and met his gaze. "They're going to catch whoever did this. They're going to catch them and put them away, aren't they?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, I will."

He was going to see Edward Burns in prison.

He was going to see Edward Burns in Hell.

THE END