“And you have a defense, Ms. Ginsberg?”

“I do, Your Honor.”

“And that would be?”

“Mistaken identity.”

“Mistaken identity. Of course.” Judge Channing didn't look pleased. “Wayne!” he yelled to his deputy. “Get me some Alka Seltzer!”

“Be right back, Your Honor,” Wayne said, scurrying off. Braden and I each presented our witnesses. His side basically just said the same thing he had.

My side's testimony consisted of Ms. Rodriguez, affirming that she and my client were a very playful couple, and that he frequently grabbed her behind in public. Further, she was standing directly next to Ms. Parker on the very crowded bus. So crowded, that it would be difficult to tell one behind from another. She also pointed out that as soon as he had recognized his mistake, Mr. McBride had apologized profusely to Ms. Parker, but that Mr. Connolly had become quite hostile. In fact, Ms. Parker had seemed inclined to accept the apology, but Mr. Connolly would not let it go.

“And your argument is, Ms. Ginsberg?” the judge asked when all testimony was complete.

“That first and foremost my client lacked criminal intent, but that this case is also ridiculous. Seriously, Your Honor, is this a worthy investment of the resources of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and the time of the Court of Common Pleas of Philadelphia? My client grabbed the wrong behind on a crowded bus and apologized to owner of said behind. The DA's office wants to have him labeled as a sex offender! Although Mr. Connolly is angry, it doesn't even seem like Ms. Parker wants to prosecute this case.”

“Objection, Your Honor!” Braden said, flashing me a warning look.

“Sustained. However, and I can't believe I'm going to say this twice in the same day, I think Ms. Ginsberg has a point, Mr. Pierce. This was a quick grab as I understand it? Not a prolonged fondle? And he immediately apologized. His girlfriend isn't even mad at him. That should tell you something. Can't we just resolve this?”

“Judge!” Mr. Connolly jumped in. “He grabbed my girlfriend's ass! Wouldn't you be mad if some pervert did that to your girlfriend? ”

“Well… err, that's not relevant, Mr. Connolly,” the judge answered.

“How about you?!” He demanded, turning to Braden.

“Well, frankly…” he began, but stopped as soon as he saw my glare. “I'm not permitted to testify.”

“Any guy would be mad!” Mr. Connolly shouted. “You can't just go around grabbing women's asses on the bus!”

“It was a mistake and he apologized, Your Honor,” I repeated emphatically.

“Perhaps if Mr. McBride had also apologized to Mr. Connolly,” Braden suggested.

“To him?” I asked indignantly. “It was her a… behind and he apologized to her!”

“Mr. Connolly happens to have exclusive access to that behind,” Braden continued.

“Exclusive access?! What is she, an easement?”

“ENOUGH!” Judge Channing had finally reached his limit and slammed down his gavel. “Mr. Connolly, if Mr. McBride apologizes to you would you let it go?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just don't let it happen again!”

“Hey man, I'm really sorry! Hell, I would be mad if somebody grabbed her ass too,” he said gesturing toward Ms. Rodriguez.

“Yeah, okay,” Mr. Connolly answered as the four of them walked off.

“Case dismissed,” the judge said and banged his gavel again. That was the last case of the day and Braden and I both packed up our things to go.

“Perhaps we could have a little chat?” I asked with a smile.

“Sure.”

“How about my office this time? It’s closer,” I answered. Public defenders had an onsite office just like prosecutors did. It was the place that we used to interview clients and witnesses. Because it was the end of the day it was practically empty. I went straight to one of the interview rooms and shut the door behind me.

“A burrito as a deadly weapon? A mistaken fanny grabber as a sex offender?”

“There's a lot of pressure right now at my office to push things through. I threw out all of the higher charges on that case! It would have been resolved before trial.”

“I know, but these are people's lives, Braden! Those stupid schmucks had to miss work to come here. There are so many serious cases out there, involving seriously bad people. Why are you guys wasting time with this garbage?”

“I don't like it either! I have to do my job, though, just like you have to do your job when you tell a jury that it's reasonable to believe that a normal person throws a wine and cheese party in his pants!”

I tried not to laugh. Really, I did. I fought it for as long as I could and then I finally gave up and dissolved into the kind of laughter that makes you double over and pee your pants — which thankfully, I didn't do. Braden started to laugh with me and the two of us could barely breathe after a couple of minutes.

“So if we were on a date,” I gasped, “and someone mistakenly grabbed my ass on a bus, would you prosecute him as a sex offender?”

“You really think,” he gasped, wiping his eyes, “that I would take you on a date on a bus?” He almost choked, he was laughing so hard, and I lost it all over again. It took at least five minutes for the two of us to really calm down. My stomach ached and tears were streaming down my face.

“That felt really good.” He smiled.

“Oh my God, yes! I needed to release some tension so badly!” I agreed. I saw his eyes darken and his gaze heat up and I breathed in deeply. That hot Braden sex look did me in every time. He smiled seductively and walked toward me slowly. “Braden, we're in a public place.” I laughed nervously as I backed up. “Where we work.” He kept coming and soon I felt the wall up against my back. “And I know that door doesn't lock,” I said in a shaky voice.

“Hmm,” he said, reaching around me and gently kneading my bottom. “So, would this be a quick grab or prolonged fondle I wonder?” he whispered. “And while we’re at it, do I have exclusive access to your ass, Gabrielle?” he asked as he lowered his mouth toward mine.

“Of course you…” I murmured just before he kissed me. The tension and the adrenaline had been building all week and like someone had opened a floodgate we just let ourselves go wild. He pinned me against the wall with his h*ps as I ground my own h*ps into him like a wanton hussy. Our tongues were engaged in a battle of a whole different kind now. I wrapped one leg around him to give me better friction and he reached for the hem of my skirt and began to push it up as I reached for his belt. I got it open quickly, even though I couldn’t see what I was doing and we were writhing around against each other. It was amazing how good my fine motor skills were when I was highly motivated. Holy shit, we were actually going to get seriously freaky right there and then. I would probably get aroused every time I looked at that wall. That could be awkward, considering that I came in here to negotiate plea bargains.

I was wearing thigh-high stockings and panties, (I don’t have the coordination to deal with pantyhose before I’ve had my morning coffee.) He pushed the edge of my panties aside and I felt his fingers slide in and begin stroking my clit. He broke the kiss, breathing hard.

“Jesus, Gabrielle. You’re so wet,” he said hoarsely. I slipped my hand into his trousers and under the waistband of his underwear.

“I believe that I have your attention too,” I said, now officially panting. I couldn’t see what was down there but I could certainly feel it. Trust me. It was hard to miss. No pun intended. I gripped him and slid my hand along his length from base to tip. It was quite a journey. He groaned and whispered in my ear.

“Oh that’s it, baby. I need to be inside you right now. I’m going to nail you right up against this f**king wall.” Suddenly someone knocked on the f**king door and we froze.

“Yes?” I called out, trying to make my voice sound normal.

“Gabrielle, they need you back at the main office.”

“Tell them I'll be right there,” I called out, praying that she wouldn’t open the door.

“Okay.” Footsteps disappeared down the hallway. We both let out a sigh of relief. After a few seconds of panting and letting my heart leave my throat and return to my chest cavity he stepped back.

“It’s for the best,” he said huskily. “I say I want to be able to take my time with you and then I shove you up against a wall in a public defender interview room after a fanny grabber case.”

“What, that's not romantic enough for you?” I laughed, still sounding kind of out of breath.

“Besides, we would have had to figure out something else anyway because I don’t have a condom with me. I'm not that well prepared for court,” he said sounding amused, as he refastened his belt.

“I’m on the pill,” I said and I saw him hesitate. “And I’m healthy,” I added. He still didn’t say anything. “Of course I would understand if you wanted some verification.”

“I trust you. If anything, I think I should show you verification that I’m healthy – which I am. I get tested regularly and I’ve always used a condom.” I nodded and then that sunk in.

“Always? As in you’ve never not used one?”

“Never,” he answered. “With my ex-girlfriends it was more about making sure that they never got pregnant. I figured that if I didn’t plan to marry them I should do my share to make sure that I never knocked them up.”

“Oh, well, I’m fine with that. It’s no problem.”

“Not so fast.” He started to pace. I think he did that when he was mulling something over. I was starting to get to know his body language well. “There’s no reason to think your pill wouldn’t be effective and I’m a twenty-seven-year-old attorney now, so even if it wasn’t I could handle it.”

I wasn’t sure that I knew what he meant by “handle it” but I had never forgotten to take it, even when I didn’t technically need it, since it made my monthly visitor so much easier, so I wasn’t worried about it not working. Finally he seemed to come to a conclusion. “I think that I would like to try just relying on that, your pill I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m okay with that. Thanks for trusting me. I trust you too. I’m afraid that we’ll have to continue this pre-sex talk at another time, though, because if I don’t get back to my office the entire city will come to a halt – at least that’s what they’ve trained me to believe.”

Thursday

Commonwealth v. Garcia

I could feel that my face was flushed and my pulse was racing. I knew that my eyes were bright and flashing with passion. I was so turned on I was almost shaking. I knew the look Braden was giving me, like blue heat, it was a look that said that he wanted me. Right here and right now. I stepped toward him and he stepped toward me… and then both of us realized that the other one wasn’t backing up and that we were now literally toe to toe and practically on top of each other. We both stepped back and started circling – actually circling – like boxers in the ring.

“The knife was found among Mr. Garcia’s possessions while he was sleeping in Fairmount Park. This case falls under the Open Fields Doctrine outlined in Oliver v. United States and the line of cases that interpret it.” Braden’s voice sounded low and tense.

“It was found in a paper bag that belonged to him. He had a Reasonable Expectation of Privacy in that bag. It’s controlled by Katz v. United States,” and the cases that interpret it,” I shot back at him.

“Okay! I’ve heard enough argument and I have your briefs on the issue.” Judge Channing looked vaguely uncomfortable. He was probably able to guess that there was more being suppressed here than evidence. “Let’s take a break. We’ll reconvene in fifteen minutes.” He banged his gavel and headed for his chambers. Braden raked his fingers through his hair and began to pace. I went to the defense table to catch my breath.

“I feel like I need a cigarette,” Adam said. He looked flushed.

“Yeah, that was like watching porn,” Jess added. Braden and Adam looked at her. “I imagine.”

“If you don’t bang her soon, you two are going to wind up in the Supreme Court,” Adam joked.

“Or in jail,” Jess added.

“Braden, do you want to discuss that…” I said a little desperately. We only had fifteen minutes but I really didn’t feel like it was a choice at that point.

Apparently, he didn’t either.

“Yes,” he said, before I even finished making something up for us to supposedly discuss. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out of the courtroom and headed for the DA’s interview rooms.

“My office is closer,” I said breathlessly.

“Our doors lock. I checked,” he said letting go of my hand as we almost sprinted down the hall. We made it to the DA’s office and burst into the waiting area… just to find all of the interview rooms occupied. Shit! Shit! Shit! We stood waiting impatiently as a MUZAC version of Karma Chameleon quietly played in the background. I checked my watch. We had twelve minutes. A door opened and a prosecutor and a public defender, still discussing something, began to vacate a room. I saw the fifty-something assistant district attorney who had prosecuted Mr. Harris, the shoplifter, stand and turn in that direction. Before he could take a step, Braden climbed over a coffee table and dove toward the door. The ADA and PD who were leaving gave him a startled look.