Latin: "most abundant faith"

In which we interrupt your usual Pricegrove programming because Frank does not like it when his new sister is under fire from a bitter defense attorney.

Also known as "Vicious Cycle." This took way longer to complete than I thought, but it turns out when your workplace floods and you have to switch to virtual sessions, your energy can get sapped really quickly. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this episode and how I wanted to write it . . . it just had to get typed out. Still, I'm very pleased with the results. This was a very Sam-heavy episode, and I loved the episode so I wanted to keep it that way. Not too Pricegrove heavy, but hopefully no one is too opposed to our favorite guys wanting to protect our favorite girl.

***

"I don't know how much more I can say I like you," Frank quipped as he walked back from the bar to one of the tables in the back. "Top shelf tequila on the rocks and one big chunk of my paycheck gone."

Sam giggled as he placed her drink in front of her. "I thank you for your sacrifice, Frank, but I did offer to pay for the round. It was your break in the case that got us this conviction."

"I'm a gentleman," Frank shrugged, sliding into the booth across from her. "First round on me. Then maybe you can buy the top shelf whiskey I was eyeing when we got here."

"Deal," Sam agreed, picking up her glass and taking a sip. "The best detectives and prosecutors in Manhattan deserve the best drinks."

"You are doing wonders for my ego right now, Sam," Frank rolled his eyes fondly, taking a drink from his own glass.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "That's Nolan's job, not mine."

Frank's heart stuttered, and he choked on his next drink. "Excuse me?" he managed to croak, covering his mouth as he coughed.

"You know I've had a front row seat to basically every interaction you and Nolan have had since you joined the 2-7," Sam reminded him with a grin. "Kevin got a trainwreck every time, and Jalen worked . . . what, one or two major cases with you before the mass shooting? I've seen it all. Including that little moment the two of you had after you were on the stand with the Nichols case. You two went from going at each other's throats to baring them if it means defending the other. It's like some corny TV show or Hallmark movie."

Frank aimed his dirtiest glare at the woman. "I take back every compliment I've ever said about you."

Sam didn't even react to the glare. In fact, she laughed loudly as she took another drink. "Yeah, I bet you do."

She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge, and there was no way Frank could argue with that look. "That obvious, huh?" he sighed, eyeing his drink in distaste. He wasn't certain he wanted a repeat of that coughing fit.

All the teasing died in Sam's expression, and the woman leaned across the table. "Only to someone who knows both of you," she told him. "I know I haven't worked with Nolan as long as, say, Benson and Tutuola, but the only other person we have ever worked with is our boss. I know Nolan, and I like to think I know you decently well, too, Frank." She bit her lip, struggling not to smile. "And Nolan protested a bit too much when he said your bar crawl wasn't a date."

Frank snorted loudly, grinning into his whiskey. "I would have been happy to call it a date."

"Yes!" Sam grinned victoriously, dark eyes brightening to amber with her clear delight. "I knew it! The way you two absolutely crucified Niles Harper . . . I knew there was something happening!"

"I don't even know how to define what's happening, Sam," Frank shook his head, leaning in closer to her so they could speak in quieter tones. "And I won't even try without knowing if Nolan's on the same page . . . hell, if he's even on the same book as me. So please - "

"I won't say a word," Sam promised, laying a hand on top of Frank's and squeezing. "Nothing to say until you're on the same letter of a word."

Frank smiled in relief, turning his hand over to squeeze hers. "Thank you, Sam."

"You're very welcome," Sam beamed.

Frank's phone chirped at that moment, and with an irritated sigh, he withdrew his phone and hastily read the text from his partner. Before he even finished, he was reaching to finish the rest of his drink. "That's Jalen," he explained to Sam as he set down his glass and picked up his suit jacket from where he had shucked it onto the booth. "We got a case, I have to go."

"Go," Sam nodded, hastily standing as she tilted back her head and downed the rest of her tequila. "I'll let Nolan know when I get back to my place."

"Thanks," Frank nodded, hand hovering behind the small of her back as they left the bar, having paid for the round before he returned to the booth.

"I'll buy the round when we go out next time," Sam told him, accepting no argument as they exited into the cool New York night.

"Sounds good," Frank nodded, stepping to the edge of the sidewalk and raising his hand expectantly. Barely a second later, an unoccupied taxi pulled into the vacant spot, and Frank opened the back door for Sam to slide into the car. "See you in court, Sam."

Sam laughed, giving him a wave. "See you in court, Frank."

Frank shut the door and watched the cab peel out into traffic, and he headed for where he parked his unmarked cruiser, rapidly texting to let Jalen know he was on his way to the scene. It was a bit of a shame . . . he'd been looking forward to seeing what drink Sam would send his way.

***

He arrived on the scene at the same time as Jalen. "So much for a night out," he sighed, ducking under the crime tape and approaching the body under a white sheet.

"Date night?" Jalen raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Frank snorted. "Everyone seems to be asking me that these days." He stopped by one of their CSIs. "What have we got?"

She reached down and pulled back the sheet, revealing their victim. "The DOA, Perry Sutton, took two to the chest."

Jalen did a double take in surprise as Frank crouched down, looking over the dead man with blood trailing from his nose and mouth. "The fashion designer?"

"Yeah," the CSI nodded. "From what I'm told, he's a big deal."

"Never heard of him," Frank shook his head.

"Robbery?" Jalen suggested.

"Doesn't look that way," the CSI shook her head.

Frank rose to his full height again, looking around the sidewalk and street. "Casings?"

"No, nothing," the CSI said. "Perp either policed his brass or used a revolver."

Frank sighed, practically knowing this chain of events by heart. "Witnesses?"

"One," the CSI nodded, pointing down the street to where a man was gesticulating to a police officer.

Jalen nodded thoughtfully, then opened up his suit jacket to show Frank the inside. Frank raised an eyebrow at the logo inside - it had Sutton's name. "Oh," he smirked. "I guess that makes you the fashion police."

Jalen's visible exasperation almost made up for having to abandon his night out with Sam.

***

Frank: Question only you probably know the answer to.

Sam: Nolan isn't seeing anyone.

Frank: Not what I was aiming to ask but thanks for the heads-up.

Frank: Is Perry Sutton one of the designers Nolan gets his ridiculously expensive but good-looking suits from?

Sam: I think I've seen Sutton's name on some of his suit jackets.

Sam: Why do you ask?

Frank: So bad news about the victim Shaw and I are now investigating.

***

Some cases that crossed their desks angered Sam more than others. When a good Samaritan was killed while trying to do the right thing, it made her blood boil.

She could feel that start to occur as she stood in arraignment, she on the prosecution side and Nick Castillo appearing via video from his hospital bed. "Mr. Castillo," the judge looked at him. "Are you able to understand the nature of these proceedings?"

Castillo gave a thumbs-up in reply, and Counselor Lara Vega turned to the judge. "My client pleads not guilty to the charge of murder in the second degree. We ask that he remain in the hospital to receive treatment and then be allowed to return home to recover."

The judge faced Sam expectantly. "Ms. Maroun?"

"He can convalesce in Rikers," Sam responded. "People seek remand."

"The people's case is built on sand," Vega argued. "No eyewitnesses, no forensics, no gun, no stolen property, nothing."

"The bullet taken out of Mr. Castillo's leg puts him at the scene of the crime," Sam countered. "The defendant is a career criminal." She handed a tablet to one of the security guards, who in turn handed it to the judge. "107 arrests. Started at age 16, swiping packages off his neighbor's stoop. Graduated to shoplifting, then larceny and receiving stolen property. The list goes on and on."

"All misdemeanors," Vega shook her head as the judge scrolled through the list complied. "Most ended up getting dismissed. My client has no felony convictions and has never done time."

"He failed to appear in court 63 times," Sam scoffed. "Clearly, he's a flight risk."

The judge nodded, giving Castillo a stern look. "I'm adopting the prosecutor's recommendation and holding you without bail."

As the gavel hit and the monitor was disconnected, Sam reclaimed her tablet from the security officer. "Ms. Maroun," Vega walked over and held out a vanilla folder.

Sam raised an eyebrow as she took it. "What's this?"

"Pre-trial motion," she answered, watching smugly as Sam read the contents.

***

"The people have no case," Vega told Judge Bolden as the lawyers met in his office. "Their plan is, obviously, to prejudice the jury with evidence of my client's past transgressions, convict him of murder over a series of trivial misdemeanors."

Nolan shook his head, handing Bolden the same list Sam had shown in arraignment court. "107 arrests is more than a series. This guy should get the lifetime achievement award."

"You just made my point," Vega scoffed.

Nolan ignored her. "The jury has a right to know who the defendant is, that he is quite literally a career criminal. Demonstrates a pattern of increasingly aggressive and criminal conduct."

Bolden grimaced as he reviewed the list. "This is revolting, but I find the probative value of Mr. Castillo's prior criminal actions to be outweighed by the prejudicial effect it'll have on the jury. So I'm granting the defendant's application to exclude. No mention of his record in your opening statement."

Nolan sighed and nodded, taking back the tablet and not gracing a smug Vega with a glance as he and Sam departed the chambers. "Want me to draft an appeal?" Sam asked as they left the courthouse.

Nolan shook his head. "Judge didn't abuse his discretion, and our case is still solid."

Sam hummed. "Well, I'm not so sure about that. No eyewitnesses, no video that can explain how the crime was committed, and no murder weapon. And now, we can't even let the jury know that Castillo is a career criminal." She sighed, running ideas through her head. "Maybe we should offer a deal to the discount store guy, Eddie Wells?"

"We have what we have, Sam," Nolan shook his head. "We just need to lay out the evidence in a simple, logical way. The pharmacy manager, the pharmacy surveillance video, the witness who heard the two men arguing in the street, ballistics. The case isn't perfect, but it's clear. Nick Castillo killed Perry Sutton."

***

Cases that weren't perfect but rather clear were some of the most annoying ones in Frank's mind. When evidence painted a clear picture of the crime committed, that made his and Jalen's jobs easy. But when some key elements were unable to be found, that turned the heat on for the prosecutors. In some cases, those elements could be investigated by the police, and if that clinched the verdict for Nolan and Sam, all the better in Frank's mind.

So he sat towards the back of the courtroom and prepared for anything as Nolan clicked on the surveillance footage from the pharmacy, Nick Castillo's face clear as day as he cleared out the shelves. "The defendant went into the pharmacy and emptied a shelf of toothpaste and mouthwash into a duffel bag," he told the jury. "When confronted, he struck the store manager. A concerned citizen, Perry Sutton, witnessed the theft and assault and decided to get involved." A click of a button, and the video footage disappeared. "He followed the defendant out of the store. Once outside, Mr. Sutton told the defendant to return what he stole. A witness heard him yell, 'Give it back!' The defendant responded by pulling out a gun."

"Objection!" Frank did a double take as Vega's exclamation, and he saw Sam stare in shock as the defense attorney rose to her feet. "It's hearsay, and he's mischaracterizing the facts."

Frank looked at Nolan incredulously, and the EADA blinked, obviously thrown by the words. "An objection to my opening?" he looked at Bolden in disbelief. "What the hell is going on?"

"Ms. Vega, hold your objections until the people have finished," Bolden ordered.

Vega slowly sat again, and Nolan shook his head, visibly pulling himself together to continue. "Um . . . Mr. Sutton tried to protect himself, grabbed the gun. A struggle ensued, during which the defendant was shot in the leg. He then regained control of the gun and shot and killed Perry Sutton."

"Objection!" Vega called again. "Move for a mistrial."

Sam looked ready to smack Vega so she returned to her seat. If that happened, Frank was going to make sure the security guards didn't arrest her. He was ready to sit the woman down himself, after all. "I told you to save your objections until Mr. Price was finished," Bolden scowled.

"I have to protect my client, Your Honor," Vega argued. "The people's theory is based on pure fiction. And by spinning this tale based on pure speculation and racial innuendo, Mr. Price is doing irreparable harm to our case."

Frank had to bite his tongue to stifle a scoff that would have been very audible in the room. "I am simply telling the jury what we will prove during trial," Nolan began.

"Perry Sutton was the one carrying a gun, not Mr. Castillo," Vega spoke over him. "He attacked Mr. Castillo, not the other way around."

Sam twisted in her seat to give Frank an incredulous look, which the detective gave a head shake in return. He couldn't believe this was happening, either. "That is for the jury to decide based on the facts," Nolan declared firmly, standing his ground.

"I agree," Bolden agreed. "Your objection is overruled, and your motion for a mistrial is denied. And if you interrupt Mr. Price's opening one more time, I will hold you in contempt. Understood?"

Vega gave a small smile and nodded as she sat. Nolan sighed as he rolled his shoulders, gearing up to finish his statement, leaving Sam and Frank to continue closely watching Vega for any other signs of interruption.

***

Frank had visited the courthouse many times since he and Nolan had forged their friendship and partnership, and he had already been there enough times to know his way around the ADAs' offices because of giving testimonies to Sam.

Still, this was the first time he had been pulled into Jack's office with the prosecutors, and he looked around appraisingly while smirking as Nolan ranted. "I have never experienced anything like that in my entire career!"

"Is there anything to what the defense lawyer was saying?" Jack asked, looking around the room. "Did Perry Sutton own a gun?"

"No," Frank shook his head. "He's never applied for a firearms license, and everyone we've spoken to, people who know him well, say that they've never seen him with a weapon of every kind. And Violet was very thorough when looking through everything, the guy's donated hundreds of thousands of dollars to local charities that support gun control."

Sam bit her lip. "Well, it doesn't mean he didn't have a gun the night he was killed."

All three men looked at her in surprise. "We represent the people, Ms. Maroun," Jack reminded her.

"All I'm saying is, we weren't there," Sam defended herself. "We don't know what really happened."

"Same as most murder cases we try," Nolan pointed out. "So we piece together the story based on the facts we do know. And in this case, the facts lead us to one, and only one, logical conclusion: Nick Castillo was the person carrying a gun that night."

"I agree," Jack nodded. "But will the jury see it that way?"

"I think so," Nolan confirmed. "And they're gonna like Perry Sutton. Despite his wealth and fame, he's relatable. He was a real New Yorker. He loved this city. He invested in this city. And like most of us, he was sick and tired of all the crime, so he did something about it."

Frank tilted his head thoughtfully. "That could paint him as a vigilante, though," he remarked. "Which brings us back to the crazy lady's idea that Sutton was carrying the gun."

Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Whose side are you on?"

Frank snorted. "The one that takes down Castillo. But I've been in the courtroom enough nowadays to know it's still your word against theirs. You have to think of everything."

Jack smirked. "Spoken like someone who's starting to think like an attorney."

Frank's disgruntled expression made Nolan laugh loudly and quickly turn to cough into his sleeve. "That's my cue to go back to the precinct," the detective grumbled.

"Take Ms. Maroun with you," Jack ordered. "Even though the jury won't know Castillo was a career criminal, the people of this city do, so we need to send a message, let people know we won't stand for this level of recidivism and violence. Dig through Castillo's past cases, find someone who can testify to a history of violence."

"Yes, sir," Frank nodded, opening the door to the office.

Sam nodded, too, as she picked up her briefcase. As she joined Frank, she gave him an amused look. "Guess we're rainchecking tonight, too, huh?" she joked.

"Unless we break out a drink while combing through these cases," Frank riposted.

"Rainchecking what now?" Nolan blinked in surprise.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Frank smiled innocently at Nolan. "I finally found a reliable gossip partner."

Sam giggled at the gobsmacked look on Nolan's face. "Didn't you tell me Shaw asked if you were on a date the other night?"

"He did," Frank nodded as they exited the room. "I don't get it. When did everyone get so interested in my nonexistent love life?"

Sam's gleeful laughter echoed in the room as the door shut behind them, and Nolan looked at Jack in what the District Attorney could only describe as utter bewilderment. "Well," Jack shrugged as he turned to walk to his desk. "When I've talked about ironing out any problems between the police and our office . . . I never expected that."

***

"107 cases, 0 consequences," Frank whistled as he shed his suit jacket and sat in one of the chairs, reluctantly taking a pile of folders and dropping it into his lap. "Unbelievable."

"Yeah, we're frustrated, too," Sam sighed as she looked through her own pile. "But let's face it, it's not like this just happened for no reason."

"I agree," Jalen nodded as he, too, perused his pile of case files. "It wasn't too long ago we were locking up people for not being able to scrape together a hundred bucks' worth of bail. They were sitting in Rikers for months, some years, while their dumbass misdemeanor cases would just drag on . . . and on . . . "

"That may be true," Frank deposited a case file in their discard pile. "But I'm not sure the cure is any better than the disease."

"I hear you, Frank," Jalen nodded. "We overcorrected."

"And it's driving people crazy," Sam huffed. "They're starting to take matters into their own hands."

"Like Perry Sutton," Frank sighed, reluctantly opening another file.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jalen stiffen in his seat. "Maroun?" his partner said slowly. Sam hummed in acknowledgement of her name, not looking up from her current file. "Your name's on this jacket."

Both Sam and Frank looked up at the same time. "What?" Sam stammered, dropping her file on the table.

"Yeah," Jalen flipped his file around, showing that the sticker in the corner had Sam's last name striked through it, another name underneath. "It looks like you arraigned Castillo ten months ago for theft. He's been released on his own recognizance, and the case is still pending."

"This is my case?" Sam asked in shock. Jalen nodded and handed over the file, and Sam flipped through it, swallowing hard as she read the contents. "Yeah . . . larceny. Victim was from Africa and had a hard time speaking English. Castillo didn't qualify for bail under the new bail laws. Nothing I could do."

Frank raised an eyebrow in surprise, reaching over to look through the file himself. That didn't sound like the Sam he knew. "Come on, Sam," he shook his head. "Guy has a 15-page rap sheet? Had to be something you could have done. I mean . . . you had a witness."

Sam stood frozen like a deer in headlights, and Frank could see the gears in her head whirring as she tried to come up with a response. When she swallowed hard, Frank realized with a sinking feeling that she had none to give.

***

When Sam had worked furiously to bring Jasmine Omari into their office for an interview, Nolan figured something had struck a chord with his partner. It was like a fire had been lit under her feet, and she worked harder than he had ever seen. It had been Frank who informed him Sam's name had been on the jacket for this particular crime, and when Nolan had counted back when the arraignment occurred, he found what Frank had: this had happened right before Sam was assigned to homicide and to him in particular.

"I called her a few times," Sam tried to explain herself as they met in his office after interviewing Jasmine. "I . . . I tried to get a translator. But then, you know, I got promoted to homicide, handed off the case to another prosecutor, and that was that."

"It happens, Sam," Nolan tried to reassure her. "You did what you could, given your workload."

"He had a gun, Nolan," Sam whispered, her frustration visible on her face. "If I'd been paying closer attention, I . . . I could have upped the charges to armed robbery and got bail. Castillo would have been locked up, and none of this would have happened."

Nolan folded his arms, looking at her curiously. "How many misdemeanor arraignments did you do that week?"

"That's not the point," Sam shook her head.

"It's exactly the point," Nolan retorted. "It's a mistake any of us could have made. Too many cases, too much crime. Impossible to keep up. But the good news is that we have a new witness, and she's gonna help us convict Castillo."

***

Kate had let Frank and Jalen sit in on the trial without much complaint. What they did on their lunch break was their business, and if they wanted to spend it in the courtroom watching Jasmine's testimony, then that was what they could do.

Nolan had barely started before Vega made her first complaint. "I renew my objection on the grounds of relevance, unfair surprise, and discovery violations."

Even Nolan's courtroom mask had cracked at this point, and his irritation was visible as he awaited the verdict. Jalen's eyebrows rose high, and Frank pinched the bridge of his nose. "See why we don't like this woman?" he muttered under his breath.

"No kidding," Jalen shook his head in disbelief.

"Your objection is overruled," Bolden decided.

Nolan's expressionless mask settled back into place as he looked at Jasmine. "Do you see your assailant in this courtroom?" he asked.

"Yes," Jasmine nodded.

"Could you indicate where he's seated, what he's wearing?"

Jasmine nodded, pointing over where Castillo sat at the defense table. "He's there, with a blue shirt."

Nolan nodded in satisfaction. "May the record reflect that the witness has identified the defendant."

"It so shall reflect," Bolden confirmed.

Nolan paced in front of the witness box. "Did you notice anything about the gun the defendant was holding?" he asked.

"Gray color," Jasmine answered. "And had a long . . . " She frowned, trying to find the word. "Thing on it."

"A barrel?" Nolan supplied.

"Yes," Jasmine nodded. "A barrel."

"Thank you," Nolan smiled. "I have nothing further."

He returned to his seat, and Vega rose. "I have no questions for this witness."

Nolan blinked, looking at Vega in surprise. "You're kidding me," Frank huffed as Bolden dismissed everyone, and Jalen matched his stride as they exited the room. "She successfully gets the guy's rap sheet dismissed, and she won't question the witness we find from that rap sheet?" He shook his head in irritation, recognizing the footsteps behind them. "I don't understand this lady."

"She's something," Jalen shrugged.

Frank gestured in confusion as Nolan and Sam joined them. "I thought Vega would have jumped at the chance to cross Jasmine," he said as they continued their walk down the courthouse steps. "Why didn't she?"

"Vega chooses her spots carefully," Nolan shrugged.

"Well, she could have challenged her identification," Sam listed. "Her ability to perceive, or even communicate."

"She must have some bigger fish to fry, then," Jalen surmised.

A man in a teal pullover sweater stepped in front of them, stopping the quartet in their tracks. "Samantha Maroun?" he asked.

"Yes?" Sam tilted her head.

He held out a manila envelope. "You've been served."

Four pairs of eyes blinked at the man in astonishment, but as Sam took the envelope, he left before any of them could say a word. "Here," Jalen held out his hand.

"Thank you," Sam mumbled distractedly, handing him her briefcase as she opened the envelope and pulled out the papers inside, her eyes scanning the words. "'People v. Nick Castillo,'" she read.

"A discovery request?" Nolan scoffed. "Why would she hire a process server to request a - "

"It's not a request," Sam gulped. "It's a subpoena. They want me to testify for the defense."

Nolan balked at the thought, and Jalen's expression darkened. "There's the bigger fish."

Frank was the one to voice what he was certain they all were thinking. "I hate this woman."

***

Nolan was practically frothing at the mouth when he and Vega met in Bolden's chambers to debate Sam's subpoena. "ADA Maroun should not be compelled to testify in a case that she is prosecuting!"

"She should when she has relevant and exculpatory evidence to offer," Vega countered.

"What do you expect Ms. Maroun to say?" Bolden asked.

"That the prosecution's witness never told anyone until two days ago that my client robbed her at gunpoint," she answered immediately.

"Ms. Omari tried to tell people, but she was unable because of a language barrier," Nolan argued.

Vega scoffed. "Oh, she communicated just fine when she was on the witness stand!"

"Her English has improved!" Nolan shook his head. "We'll stipulate to the fact that Ms. Maroun never heard the witness mention anything about a gun."

"That sounds reasonable," Bolden nodded. "Would you agree to a stipulation?"

"Not in a million years," Vega sneered.

Nolan narrowed his eyes. If Vega was going to swing at his partner, the one that constantly had his back even when it put her in difficult positions, then he sure as hell was going to swing back at her. "The defense counsel is trying to distract from the fact that the defendant murdered an unarmed man, and she is also trying to humiliate my colleague in the process."

"The entire DA's office should be ashamed of the way they handled this case," Vega spat, fire in her eyes.

Nolan shook his head, looking at Bolden. "Your Honor, I implore you not to let defense turn this into a sideshow."

Bolden sighed. "I don't appreciate the tactics, but the defense has a right to bring in witnesses on their own behalf. Your application to quash the subpoena is denied."

***

Sam's posture was stiff as she sat on the witness stand, her dark eyes tracking every movement Vega made. Her only comfort at the moment was knowing there were three pairs of eyes angrily doing the same, though two were much more open in their hostility from their places at the back of the room. "ADA Maroun," Vega stopped in front of her. "Yesterday, we heard from a witness who came into this courtroom and accused my client of robbing her at gunpoint."

"Yes, I recall," Sam nodded.

"And you had previously spoken with this woman."

"Briefly."

"And she never mentioned a word about a gun."

"Well, she tried," Sam shook her head. "English is not her first language."

"Can you please answer my question?" Vega narrowed her eyes. "Did she or did she not mention anything about a gun?"

While Nolan gritted his teeth in frustration at the hostility shown to his partner, Sam remained calm. "It is not a yes or no question."

Vega turned to Bolden expectantly. "May the witness be instructed to answer the question?"

Bolden turned to Sam. "Ms. Maroun, can you answer the council's question?"

Sam internally seethed, but she looked Vega in the eye. "She did not mention anything about a gun."

"And that's because there was no gun," Vega smirked. "Isn't that true?"

"No, that is not true," Sam shook her head.

"Isn't it a fact that your witness came into this court and committed perjury?" Vega pressed.

"No," Sam shook her head.

Vega leaned on the edge of the box, eyes boring into Sam, and Jalen reached over to put a hand on Frank's arm when his partner bristled in anger. As much as he, too, wanted to jump from his seat and pull the defense attorney away from Sam, there was nothing they could do. "You suborned perjury in order to bolster evidence in this trial," Vega accused. "Isn't that true?"

"Your Honor," Nolan rose from his seat, his disapproval clear. "This is inflammatory, argumentative, badgering - "

He likely had more words to add to his argument, but they were unnecessary. "Sustained," Bolden ruled.

Sam looked towards the jurors, dark eyes confident. "I am telling the truth about what happened."

"I see," Vega scowled. "So what is this jury supposed to infer? That you are . . . incompetent? Unprofessional? Derelict in your duties?"

Jalen's other hand curled into a fist on his knee, and this time, he didn't admonish Frank when a low growl came from his throat as Nolan's call for another objection rang in the room. "This bitch." No, Jalen wasn't going to argue with his partner's words one bit.

"Sustained," Bolden nodded to Nolan, who remained standing. "Anything else?"

"No," Vega shook her head, giving Sam a look of disapproval and frustration. "I have nothing further."

She stalked back to her seat, and Nolan took over. "On the day that this case came in, you were assigned to ECAB, the Early Case Assessment Bureau?"

"Yes," Sam nodded.

"How many cases did you handle that week?"

Sam appeared to think, but she shook her head when she couldn't give a clear number. "Hundreds."

"How many times did you appear in court?"

Sam frowned, not seeming to figure out the line of questioning. "Several times a day."

"Interview witnesses?" Nolan continued.

Sam swallowed. "I spoke with police officers, detectives, firefighters, EMTs, doctors, victims, and witnesses. Too many to count."

Jalen nudged Frank with his shoulder. "Look at the jury box," he whispered.

Frank's pale eyes moved from Sam to the box, and he smiled when he saw the appraising looks they were giving her. "He's getting them on her side."

Jalen nodded as Nolan looked at Sam and asked, "How many times do you get it right?"

Sam did a double take. "Excuse me?"

"We know you made a single mistake," Nolan said, not hiding his disdain as he gestured to Vega. "But can you tell us how many times you didn't make a mistake? How many people you've helped? How many cases you've resolved?"

Vega rose from her seat before Sam could answer. "Objection!"

"Sustained," Bolden allowed.

Where Sam's expression had shown uncertainty in the wake of Vega's questioning, she now met Nolan's multicolor eyes with regained confidence. Nolan nodded, unable to say the words he wanted to, but his eyes said it all: I have your back like you've had mine. "Nothing further," he stated as he sat.

***

A lone figure sat in Sam's office when she walked through the halls after court had been dismissed. Sam froze outside her door, then took a deep breath and faced her boss. "I am so sorry for what happened," she croaked. "I don't know where to begin." Jack merely tilted his head, and she gulped. "Are you here to fire me?"

"I know who you are, Ms. Maroun," Jack said as he picked up his briefcase.

She chuckled bitterly. "I'm not sure that's a good thing. I feel terrible, yeah. I screwed up."

"Like everyone else," Jack shrugged as he stood and joined her in the doorway. "If you don't screw up, you're not trying hard enough. There's no time for self-pity. Get back to work and figure out how to put the gun in Castillo's hands."

Sam's spine straightened at the order, and she nodded sharply and moved to her desk. Jack smiled and departed, and Sam immediately opened the box on her desk and pulled out the mass of files inside. She didn't hear the footsteps outside until there was a knock on the doorframe, and she looked up in surprise. "Detective Shaw!" she hastily put the files down.

"No, no, don't stop on my account," Jalen shook his head, stepping into her office. "And please, I'm not here on official business. Jalen's fine."

Sam's smile relaxed. "Jalen," she repeated with a nod. "Sorry, I didn't expect anyone else to be here."

"I wanted to catch you after that witch hunt," Jalen put his hands in his pockets, looking at her with eyes full of concern. "How're you feeling?"

Sam sighed, looking down at the files spread across her desk. "Like Jack should've sent me back to ECAB as punishment."

"He would never do that," Jalen shook his head, resting his hands on top of the box. "Because that shouldn't happen. Sam, we all make mistakes, some very big ones. That's just what makes us human."

"Until Nick Castillo is in prison, I can't tell myself that," Sam shook her head, going back to her files. A sigh came from Jalen, then the sound of a cushion sinking under weight made her look up to find the detective had taken the chair Jack had abandoned a few minutes ago. "What are you doing?"

"Keeping you company," Jalen shrugged. "And consider me 'on official business' when you find something."

"If," she corrected.

"No," Jalen shook his head. "When. You're good at your job, Sam. You'll find something. And if you want the job to go faster . . . "

He trailed off and held out a hand expectantly. Sam smiled as she handed over a pile of case files. "Knock yourself out, Detective."

"Why, thank you for the permission, Counselor," Jalen gave her a charming smile before delving into the pile.

Sam shook her head in amusement as she flipped open the first file in her stack. "I'm a little surprised Frank isn't here, too," she remarked.

"He probably would have been, if he still wasn't stewing in whatever rage got cooked up from Vega's grilling," Jalen shrugged. "Price's office was dark when I passed by. So either the two of them hit a bar to complain together, or Frank went to do what I heard him grumbling under his breath about when we left the courtroom." Sam tilted her head expectantly, and Jalen grinned at her. "Hit the shooting range and picture the target as Vega's head."

Laughter burst from Sam at the image, and she covered her mouth as she tried to contain her mirth. "He didn't!"

"Oh, yes, he did," Jalen nodded, chuckling as he rifled through papers. "He looked pretty serious, too."

Sam looked down at the papers in front of her, mind going several miles a minute. "So this is what it's like to have a big brother."

Jalen nodded. "Frank would be a good one to have, I imagine."

Sam bit her lip. "Thank you," she said, looking up at Jalen. "You, Frank, Nolan, Jack . . . my screw-up ended with a man dead, and you've had my back every step of the way."

"Of course, we do," Jalen leaned forward, giving her his full attention. "We're a team, Sam. I understand from things I've heard at the 2-7 that it hasn't always been smooth sailing between everyone, but we're here now. We've got your back."

Sam smiled, returning to her case file. Those words were exactly what she needed to hear. They were one thing coming from Jack and Nolan . . . but her mistake meant that the police had to investigate a murder that resulted from that mistake. Frank and Jalen could have been slinging blame all over the DA's office, especially her, but that wasn't the case. Hell, it sounded like Frank was plotting murder on her behalf. That was . . . a little scary, when she thought about it, but that fierce protection of her was touching in a very Cosgrove way.

As she read the file in front of her, her thoughts turned away from Frank and his overprotective drive, and she blinked, leaning in. "One, two, three, four, five . . . " she mumbled, grabbing a pen to follow the words.

"Hmm?" Jalen looked up from his work.

Sam's eyes lit in realization, and she looked up at Jalen. "Consider yourself 'on official business,' Detective."

Jalen's eyes sharpened, and Friend Jalen turned into Detective Shaw in an instant. "What do you need?"

***

"Mr. Gwynn," Nolan walked up to Eriq on the stand. "You're here under a cooperation agreement?"

"Yes," Eriq confirmed.

"You worked for Eddie Wells?"

"I stole stuff," Eriq admitted. "Sold it to Eddie."

"Did Mr. Wells supply you with a weapon to help you carry out your thefts?"

"Objection," Vega glared. "Leading."

Bolden considered, then looked at Eriq. "You may answer."

Eriq nodded. "He gave me a gun."

"Objection," Vega insisted. "Relevance."

"Overruled," Bolden shook his head. "Let's see where this goes."

Nolan nodded, looking at Eriq. "Why did he give you a gun?"

"Objection," Vega seethed, and under her table, Sam's nails dug into her palm. "Calls for speculation."

"Well, let me rephrase," Nolan smiled sweetly, and Frank quietly snickered at Vega's obvious annoyance. "Did Eddie Wells tell you why he gave you a gun?"

"Yes," Eriq nodded.

"What did he say?"

"Calls for hearsay!" Vega protested.

"Statement against penal interest," Nolan countered.

"Overruled," Bolden decided.

Nolan turned on his heel away from Vega, biting back a victorious smirk. Not this time, he thought as he nodded for Eriq to answer. "Things were getting more intense lately," he explained. "People in the stores, the security guards, and the customers started to push back, so we needed protection. So Eddie gave us guns, told us to flash them when people got aggressive."

Nolan gestured to the defense table. "Mr. Gwynn, do you know the defendant, Nick Castillo?"

Nolan stopped in front of Castillo, tilting his head. "Do you know if Mr. Wells ever gave a gun to him?"

Castillo didn't look at Nolan; he was glaring at Eriq, and the ginger man braced himself. "I do," he nodded. "He gave one to him the same day he gave one to me and to all the other guys. We were all in the warehouse together."

"Were they all the same caliber?" Nolan asked.

"Yes," Eriq confirmed. "All revolvers. Ruger GP 100s."

Jalen allowed a satisfied smirk to form on his face as Eriq condemned Castillo. That was the caliber that had been used to shoot Perry Sutton, and it was the same caliber that had been found in Castillo's leg. "Thank you," Nolan said, giving Vega an iron look. Go ahead, he silently dared. Object again. Rage your way out of this one. Vega radiated fury, but she remained silent. "Nothing further," Nolan finished, joining a smiling Sam at the prosecution table and leaving the jurors to judge Castillo.

***

And it didn't take long for the jury to reconvene. "Has the jury reached a verdict?" Bolden asked as Nolan, Sam, and Vega stood.

"Yes, Your Honor," the foreperson nodded.

Bolden eyed Castillo. "In the matter of People v. Nick Castillo, as to count one of the indictment murder in the second degree, what say you?"

The foreperson glanced at the paper in her hand before narrowing her eyes at Castillo. "We find the defendant guilty."

Sam sagged in relief, and Nolan barely refrained from putting a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Members of the jury, thank you for your service," Bolden nodded. "You're dismissed."

Frank watched with a grin as Castillo snapped at Vega when she tried to talk to him. "I don't know what part about this is more satisfactory," he told Jalen as they headed to the doors. "Castillo losing . . . or Vega losing."

Jalen chuckled, watching Vega glare daggers at Nolan and Sam as the pair packed their briefcases. "Definitely the second one."

"Oh, yeah," Frank agreed gleefully. "Definitely that one."

***

Nolan was used to being one of the, if not the, last out of the prosecutors' offices in the evening. Sometimes when he left, the only one remaining was the janitor who worked when everyone was gone.

But one office had its lights still on as he walked down the hall, and he recognized its occupant immediately. He stopped in the doorway and watched his partner as she clicked away on her computer. "Still at it?" he asked.

Sam gave him a thin smile. "Conveyor belt of justice."

Nolan chuckled and nodded, starting down the hallway again. A thought popped into his head, however, and he backtracked, coming back to Sam's door. "Thank you."

Sam blinked, looking at him in surprise. "For what?"

"Winning the trial," he smiled. "If it weren't for you, Castillo would have walked out of here a free man yet again."

Sam's face fell. "If it weren't for me, Perry Sutton would still be alive."

Nolan sighed, knowing that any argument would not go anywhere. He nodded somberly and watched Sam return to her computer, and after another moment of hesitation, he turned to leave.

A thought crossed Sam's head, however, and before she could stop herself, she turned in her chair. "Hey, Nolan?"

"Yeah?" he turned immediately, giving her his full attention.

Sam bit her lip. "You didn't see Cosgrove after you left the other night, did you?" she asked.

"Frank?" Nolan blinked. "No, I didn't. I headed straight home. Why do you ask?"

Sam giggled into her hand. "No reason."

"Oh, there's a reason," Nolan narrowed his eyes, but his playful tone meant he wasn't upset. "What made you ask?"

"Just something Jalen said," Sam bit her tongue to contain her laughter. "Nothing to worry about."

"Uh huh."

Based on Nolan's expression, he wasn't convinced, and Sam gave him a teasing smile. "He's more your type than mine, Nolan, if that's what you're trying to find a way to ask."

Nolan sputtered, looking at her in such shock that Sam really did laugh that time. "Sam!"

"Go!" Sam waved her hand at him. "I'm not interested in him, you obviously are, and that's where we're leaving this conversation."

"When you start showing an interest in someone, I fully intend to get back at you," Nolan threatened as he continued down the hall.

"Yeah, I bet you do!" Sam cheekily riposted.

"Goodnight, Sam!" he called in exasperation.

Sam's shoulders shook with laughter as she turned back to her computer, sorting through the cases she and Nolan were now up against. She meant what she had said, and she meant what she said to Jalen, too. Frank was more of an overprotective sibling than someone she was interested in romantically.

As if on cue, her phone chimed with an incoming text, and Sam tapped the screen, checking her messages.

Frank: Drinks are on me.

Frank: Castillo is going to prison and that witch got burned at the stake.

Frank: And you're not calling a raincheck this time, Sam.

Sam looked at the casework she had on her computer, then her phone chimed again.

Frank: If you take one more look at any piece of paperwork I am coming to your office and dragging you out myself.

Sam stared in disbelief at her phone and quickly grabbed it to type out a new message.

Sam: How the hell did you know I was doing that?

Frank: Because I've seen several officers do that when they make a mistake and want to bury themselves in work afterwards.

Frank: Don't drown yourself after all you did to put Castillo away, Sam. The world won't end if you go out for one night.

Sam chewed her lip, looking over the work she had across her desk and on her computer before sighing. "Screw it," she decided, clicking the icon to shut down her computer and picking up her phone again.

Sam: You win. I'm coming down.

Frank: Meet you at the steps.

***

Lara Vega walked down the steps of the courthouse feeling like steam was pouring out of her ears. She had pointed out every chink in the prosecution's case, including the gross missteps a very member of the team had made with her client, and somehow they had turned the jury in their favor. She had said the DA's office should be disappointed in how they handled the case, and she had meant it.

"Ms. Vega." The sound of her name had her stop at the foot of the steps and look around. She met the pale eyes of one of the detectives who had constantly sat in on the court sessions, and she straightened to her full height, instantly on her guard. As an attorney, it was her job to read people. This detective may have been casually leaning on one of the rails, but those steely eyes screamed war. "I would say good job, but considering all the slander you hurled without care, I'd be lying through my teeth."

Vega narrowed her eyes. "I was doing my job to protect and save my client, Detective . . . ?"

"Frank Cosgrove," he supplied, pushing off the railing. "Price and Maroun did the same as you, Counselor. They did their job, and they succeeded . . . even after you did everything you could to discredit them." He paused, then tilted his head. "Or rather, you did everything you could to discredit Sam."

"I was merely showing the jury the incompetence of one of the prosecutors," Vega held her chin high. "If she claimed she made a mistake then, how could she be trusted to not make a mistake now?"

Frank barked in laughter. "It's like you expect them to believe everyone should be perfect."

Vega sniffed. "I'm more surprised you aren't attacking her, Detective. It's due to her screw-up that you had to solve a murder."

Frank's eyes flashed, and suddenly the detective stood mere inches in front of her, those pale eyes suddenly intense as they bored into her. "The only one who is to blame for murder is the bastard you represented and who Nolan and Sam successfully put behind bars," his voice lowered, sending a chill down her back. "In fact, Sam was the one who connected the dots that clinched the case. Doesn't sound like incompetence to me."

"Detective," Vega began.

"If you talk about or to Sam like that again, that'll be the last time," Frank warned. "She made a mistake, but she did her job brilliantly, and that's the end of the story. Do I make myself clear, Counselor?"

He didn't wait for her answer as he turned on his heel and returned to where he had been leaning against the rail. "You know, I'd heard there had been a turnaround with the homicide squad," Vega remarked, determined to win this verbal spat. "Though I'd heard the detectives were in bed with their attorneys. I didn't realize that meant they leashed you and made you their attack dogs."

The taunt made Frank smirk darkly. "I'm barking right now, Ms. Vega. Keep talking if you want to find out how much worse my bite is. All I need to do is call Nolan and tell him you're still on the attack with Sam, and he'll just point and say go. The NYPD looks out for its own, and you've been trying to humiliate some of our best. You want to find out what we'll do when you keep at it? Go ahead, and I'll be happy to make those 'attack dogs' look like puppies." Vega swallowed hard, and Frank raised an eyebrow. "Do I make myself clear?"

Vega nodded curtly. "Yes, Detective."

"Good," Frank smiled in satisfaction. Vega suddenly knew what a shark would smile like if it was a human. "Then stay away from Sam and Nolan, and we won't have any problems. Have a good evening, Counselor."

Vega managed one last smile before turning to continue down the court steps. She could feel those pale eyes on her back, and she did her best to not look like she was in a hurry.

***

Frank kept his eyes on Vega as she disappeared into one of the cabs, and only when her cab drove out of sight did he relax his stance. He rubbed his forehead with a sigh, resolving to take an aspirin when he got home. And I once thought prosecutors were the pains in the ass, he thought with a huff.

"Frank?"

Sam's quiet concern made him look up, and he pushed off the railing again as Sam walked down the steps to join him. "Hey," he gave her a quick lookover. "How're you doing?"

Sam huffed, shaking her head. "Like I wish people would stop asking me that."

Frank shrugged unapologetically and joined her in walking down the rest of the steps. "Unfortunately, since we can't help you by volunteering to shoot a wicked witch, that's all we can do."

Sam snorted. "Is that what you've all been calling her?"

"I've thought up a few more vicious ones, if you'd like to hear them?"

Sam laughed at the offer. "No, thank you, Frank. Though according to Jalen, you may have already imagined shooting her?"

Frank smirked smugly. "Beat my personal best at the range that night."

Sam whipped around to stare at him in shock. "You're kidding."

"Definitely not," Frank grinned. "I guess it helps my focus when I imagine someone I really want to hurt for what she did to you."

"All she really did was speak the truth, Frank," Sam shook her head as they strode down the sidewalk. "My mistake let Castillo back out on the streets, and it's because of that mistake that Perry Sutton is dead. It was incompetence."

"It was human error, Sam," Frank told her. "Everyone makes them. Unfortunately, in our line of work, those mistakes can have horrible consequences. Vega put a stop to Nolan's question before you could answer . . . how many of those cases did end correctly?" Sam was silent as she swallowed hard, and Frank turned to fully face her. "Too many to count?" he guessed quietly, and he smiled when she nodded. "One mistake doesn't define the rest of your success, Sam. You let Castillo slip away that one time, yes, but now he's going to prison where he belongs. You were the one who put him there no matter what vile slander Vega tried to use to smear your image. And as much as we wish to turn back time to avoid this outcome, we can't. All we can do is just move forward. Just remember you have people watching your back, alright?"

Sam sniffed, reaching up to scrub at her face. "What the hell, Frank?" she half-sobbed, half-whined as tears burned her eyes. "Why did you have to make me cry?"

"That was not the intention," Frank hastened to say as he slung his arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side. "Wrong thing to say, apparently - "

"No," Sam cut him off with a shake of her head. "No, I . . . I needed to hear that from someone who wasn't in my office. Thank you. It may just take some time for me to believe it."

"Take what time you need," Frank told her. "We're not going anywhere."

Sam shook herself to regain her composure. "Except to a really expensive bar," she decided. "Where I am going to pay for the really good drinks until we need someone else to get home."

Frank laughed loudly. "As long as it's a taxi and not Nolan or Jalen, that sounds like an excellent plan."

"Good," Sam grinned. "I did promise the good stuff, after all."

"That you did," Frank nodded in agreement as they reached a crosswalk.

As he reached over and punched the button to signal the lights to change, Sam looked at him. "I mean it, Frank," she told him, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Thank you. I need this."

"Any time, Sam," he pulled her closer. As she leaned into his side, he kissed the top of her head. "That's what brothers are for."

***

Some of my favorite episodes seem to be the ones where my favorite characters get put through the ringer . . . guess that says a lot about me.

Anyone who knows me knows one of my most common tropes in my works is the concept of "found family," and I don't know what made me think Frank and Sam have such a good big brother/little sister vibe about them, but I found it and I am definitely going to use it. Nolan looked like he wanted to throttle Vega when she was grilling Sam, so while he showed his support in the courtroom, Frank and Jalen did theirs outside of the courtroom.

And yes, now I'm ship teasing Jalen and Sam. What do you think . . . Sharoun? Jalem?

graphic by marvelity