*It was late, but in New York that never mattered. There was always a party, a fight, an open bar, a sporting event, or hell, you could just ride public transportation around and annoy people. While other people left work at the end of the day and went home to pets, children, parents, or...damn. After you turned 18, the term boyfriend just failed to adequately represent the depth of relationships available between a man and woman. If you called somebody your lover, it implied all that sex was the crux of the relationship, and there was nothing else. Signficant other sounded awkward and wordy, and life parter was the domain of gay men and women everywhere. Calling someone your man or your woman implied a prehistoric mindset in which people were property to those who were able to sublimate them. Not that it mattered, all Angie had waiting for her was an empty apartment that was in desperate need of a good cleaning.

As a lawyer, words were her stock and trade. An empassioned speech could sway jurors where forensic evidence could not. A mother crying on the stand was as valuable a tool as an eyewitness if used correctly. However, the power of words could also be subverted. Killers got set free for a simple mistype on a 20-page legal document. Serpent-tongued lawyers twisted the letter of the law to thread the legal loophole needle so that rapists, child molesters, murders, arsonists, drug dealers, and other scum could run rampant. For every guilty man locked away, three ran free and everyone in prison claimed innocence. Who knew how many were telling the truth? With a heavy sigh, Angie poured some whiskey into her glass and sipped at it as she stared at a black and white photo.

In the photo, a woman. She had been choked to death, eyes bulging, mottled bruises around her neck. Mrs. Winifred DeMille. The poor elderly woman had the misfortune to witness a mob hit. It had taken six weeks of careful coaxing to get her to testify in court. Angie had promised she would be safe, but she wasn't. After Alberto "Books" Carloni got off on a technicality, he'd given Angie and Mrs. DeMille an evil, evil grin. Three days later, her corpse was found in her rent-controlled apartment, stinking to high heaven. Angie was tired, tired of being Don Quixote, tilting at the windmills of organized crime and the American legal system. Mrs. Winifred DeMille had been only one of those the law couldn't help. If New York City was supposed to be Gotham City, where the fuck was Batman?

She'd been so optimistic when she joined, and her colleagues just laughed. Their laughter was shocking and a little hurtful. Victories were never celebrated beyond a casual 'Good job'. She never understood why so many of them had liquor bottles in their desk drawers and vast seething wells of anger and self-pity. Now, finally, she understood. They had been broken, ground in the gears of the legal system as it squeezed all hope and optimism out, leaving only anger, self-pity, and regret. All she was missing was an ex-husband and alcoholism, and she would be indistinguishable from the other ADAs. She was a lot closer to alcoholism than ever getting married...*

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~Angie, you still here?~ *Standing in the doorway was another ADA, JD. He was young, a year out of law school with the same fresh-faced optimism and hope for the legal system that Angie herself had once enjoyed. JD still thought he made a diference, and Angie didn't have the heart to tell him he was fooling himself. Besides, he'd never believe her anyway. They never did.*

Yes, JD. I'm still here. Congratulations on winning the Thompson case.

*His blue eyes twinkled as he stood just a little straighter. He was proud of himself. Zeke Thompson had knifed his ex-girlfriend after they broke up and she told the cops about his ecstasy dealing. The girl would live, and Thompson was on his way to Riker's on attempted murder. Three eyewitnesses to the crime, the girl's DNA on the knife found in his apartment, testimony from the vic herself. It wasn't often a case came with all the ends tied so neatly.*

*JD gave her a wink.* ~C'mon Angie, let's go celebrate..*His charm worked quite well on the paralegals, file clerks, and even witnesses, but not Angie. He was a nice enough guy, though, when he didn't try so damn hard. She gestured to her desk and the paper strewn everywhere.*

Can't, JD. Too much work...

~Bullshit. It'll still be there tomorrow.~ *Walking into her office, he picked up Mrs. DeMille's picture from the desk, and sighed.* ~Still beating yourself up about Mrs. DeMille, I see? It's not your fault, Angie, and you know it.~

*Pressing her lips tightly in a line, she jerked the picture back from JD.* Whether or not it was my fault specifically doesn't help the fact that she's dead and Carloni's still out there. It doesn't help it at all. *She poured herself another shot of whiskey and downed it.* Go celebrate, JD. Enjoy the job while you can....*She didn't finish the sentence, but the unspoken truth hung in the air like a rank smell.*

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*Of course, JD didn't leave. Where a senior DA would hve nodded knowingly and left, he was still stubborn. He wanted to help her the same way he wanted to help right the wrongs happening on the street. Both were going to prove difficult.* JD, why did you become a lawyer?

*They both answered in unison.* ~I wanted to help people.~ *JD looked surprised, and opened his mouth as if to speak, while Angie waved her hand.*

It's a standard answer. Same reason people say they want to be doctors. Truth is, most people don't think too much about why, it's just an impulse. Besides, if you're just doing it for the money, people don't normally admit that. So, I want you to think, really think, about why...

*JD sat down in the chair, a confused look on his face.* ~Why am I being questioned, Angie? I feel like I'm on the stand.~

*She stood up from the desk, leaning forward, resting her hands against its cluttered surface and looking down at JD.* Believe it or not, I'm doing you a favor...Now answer the question.

*Now JD looked a bit flustered. He was the one used to asking the questions, not answering them. He stared off into space considering the question as his fingers drummed against the armrest. He was nervous, Angie could tell. This meant one of two things: he never really thought about why he wanted to be a lawyer, or he didn't want anyone to know why.* Got an answer yet?

*He looked at her embarrassedly for a moment and sighed heavily.* ~No Angie, I don't. I guess I just wanted to help people.~

Then why be a lawyer, JD? Why not a doctor, or a social worker, or a missionary? There has to be a reason you chose lawyer over any other profession. *She stood up again, holding her hands out to her sides.* Just tell me what it is..*Angie could do this all night if need be. She wasn't tired. Inside, she wondered what her real motivation was for this..was she trying to prematurely break JD? Get him to leave before he became bitter? Or was she simply using him as a proxy to determine her own motivations for choosing law?*

*He paused, before looking up at her with an lopsided smile.* ~I wanted to put criminals away, Angie..~

Then why not be a cop? Then you'd get to carry a gun too... *Angie knew her voice was harsh and cold, but she was pissed. JD was getting pissed too, nd he stood up quickly, pushing the chair back in the process.* ~What the hell is with all the questions, Angie? Why the fuck did you become a lawyer? Huh?~

*Her eyes flashed, then narrowed. It felt as though her body had begun to vibrate from the tension she had kept suppressed so long. When she did speak, her tone was like ice.* I became a lawyer because I wanted to save the world, JD, or at least my little corner of it. I thought that by becoming a disciple of the law I could enact some change for the good here in New York. I didn't realize that the law itself was flawed, almost as much as those called upon to defend it. I didn't realize that it was so easy to make mistakes, when you were just trying to do the right thing whether you're a lawyer or a cop. I didn't realize there'd be judges so drunk with power that the application of law would change with their whims. I didn't realize that no matter how hard -I- tried, criminals would walk free, innocents would go to jail or be killed for just doing the right thing. I didn't realize that all my efforts would be like a drop of rain in a thunderstorm. That's why I -became- a lawyer. Why I remain one is a mystery...*Her speech finished, she turned her attention to the window and stared out into the brightly lit night as her cheeks grew wet with silent tears. JD's head dropped to his hands as he sat there, unsure of what to do.*

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*There was a thick silence in the air as they shared a room without speaking. According to the clock on the shelf, twenty minutes had passed before someone spoke.*

~So quit. If you hate the job, hate the legal system, hate the criminals, quit. You could set up a nice quiet private practice and help rich people settle divorces or get people out of speeding tickets. '1-800-Law-Help' with your picture. I bet you'd get a lot of clients.~

*Sucking in her breath sharply, Angie whirled about on her heel.* Fuck you, and get out of my office.

*JD only chuckled at her response, leaning back comfortably in the chair.* ~Now, now...such anger doesn't seem to suit your image of the miserable DA with the horrible job. It's as if I wounded your pride with my little crack, isn't it?~ *That damned smile was back, and for the first time, Angie wanted to slap it off his face.*

There's enough divorce attorneys and ambulance chasers out there, they don't need me. *Angie crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glare at him.*

~That's right..you wanted to 'make a difference.' You could be a lobbyist, get some of those shitty rules changed, help out other lawyers. They could drink in your name. Here's to Angie! they would say, clinking their Budweisers at the local bar..~

*Now it was Angie's turn to flop into her chair, rubbing her temples. She could feel a headache coming on, and this was JD's fault.* JD, just go...for the love of god, just leave me alone.

~Why, so you can go back to your pity party?~ *The smirk was gone, and he began to look concerned.* ~Angie, you're a good lawyer. A damn good lawyer. Part of the reason I came to the DA's office was because I wanted to work with the best, people like you. I know they say the best go into private practice, but they're just looking for fame and money, right?~ *He winked, and Angie found herself chuckling.*

Yeah, you're probably right, JD. Thanks...*Although she'd intended to give him a reality check, he ended up turning the tables on her. It was a good thing they were on the same side in the courtroom. Reaching into her desk, she pulled out another glass, set it down on the desk, and poured them both a shot.* To the Thompson case...you did a good job.

~Thanks Angie..~ *They clinked glasses, and drank..*