Zig Zag is Copyright © Max Black Rabbit. Sabrina, Darke Katt and R.C. are Copyright © Eric W. Schwartz. James Sheppard, Marvin Badger, Rhonda Badger, Yohni, Alexi, Michael, Esteban, Mia, Wanda Vixen and Tamara Rabbit are Copyright © James Bruner. Alex O'Whitt is © Tigermark. The B-Team is © Silver Coyote. Jean LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Doctor Fox Jones, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Dina Spermophilus, Leo Leon, Miriam Redtail, Lizzy Doe, Emma Grey, Professor Moose Nicholson, Professor Erica Belge and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2005. All other characters appearing in this story, except where otherwise specifically noted, are likewise © Joan Jacobsen.

Legal Notice: This story is Copyright © 2005 by Joan Jacobsen. This story may not be sold or used for commercial profit in any form or fashion. This story may not be modified in any way. This story may not be posted on a mirror site or any other Internet site without the written permission of the author. This story may not be distributed on print, magnetic, electrical or optical mediums.

Permission to use characters that are Copyright other individuals was obtained prior to the appearance of said characters.

The author, Joan Jacobsen, hereby asserts moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is an independent work of fiction with no connection whatsoever to Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions or James Bruner and is in no way meant to imply any connection with Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions, or James Bruner. This story contains characters created by Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, James Bruner, Tigermark and Silver Coyote. Events and characters occurring in this story should not be considered part of the storylines for either 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online' or 'Sabrina Online - The Story'.

In fact, as far as 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online', 'Sabrina Online - The Story' and 'Zig Zag the Story' are concerned, this story does not exist. The artists disavow any knowledge of and do not officially sanction the events in this story.er nodded. "I'm sure."

'I rest my case'

Smoke nearly obscured William Pongo's face. His cigar shifted from the left to the right side of his mouth and back again, constantly as he went through his stacks of paper. He wished everything would be as simple as this case...and yet, he couldn't help a slight nervousness.

He'd been a busy primate lately. Ever since he'd found Jeremy's old high school teacher, he had been more or less rolling in witnesses. Everyone who had known Jeremy during his upbringing had suddenly become available to him. Or so it seemed at least. The old canid had known a great many furs who had also had interactions with Jeremy...

Good, upstanding pillars of their communities, for the most part. William had been particularly happy about the fact that he had landed a sworn statement from the local Minister. Even the most stubborn of judges tended to look favorably on what ordained furs had to say.

So why was he nervous?

Perhaps because he really didn't want to let Emma Grey down?

No, that couldn't be it. He took pride in all his cases, and while he certainly felt bad for Emma, he tended to feel bad for most of his clients.

The real reason was simpler...

The real reason was that William really, honestly despised males beating up femmes. He had never liked them.

Just because males tended to by physically stronger than females...

He shook his head and sighed, taking out his cigar and holding it between a couple of fingers, looking at it. Some males really did think with their hormones, and it tended to result in femmes like Emma getting beaten half to death.

Or worse.

He'd seen really awful cases before. Worse than this one. He didn't particularly like remembering them. The only time he had ever faced disciplinary action as a cop was once, almost twenty five years ago. He was just a regular police officer back then. He'd only just gotten promoted to Detective, when he had been sent to investigate a severe domestic disturbance. It would have been a job for less experienced officers if it wasn't for the fact that the femme had been sent to the hospital in a coma.

She was still there when William got to the scene of the crime. He recalled how there was blood streaks on the floor. How there were bloody paw-prints in the kitchen, where the victim had frantically tried to escape through the wall itself.

He remembered the perpetrator, restrained by pawcuffs. He was nothing like the usual wife-beaters. This fur was an executive. He was looking more angry than afraid, when William had asked him a few questions.

"Let me out of these bullshit pawcuffs and let me go. I've done nothing any male doesn't have a God given right to do! I am the lord and master of my home, and if that bitch had just done as I told her, she wouldn't have been in any kind of trouble."

William hadn't left that house before there were bloody paw-prints on the front porch too. Amazingly, they were completely gone twenty minutes later, before any photos had been taken of the crime scene, and the officers bringing the husband to the station were very sorry that he had fallen down several flights of stairs on the way there.

The wife had died in the hospital.

The husband had gotten off with a very mild sentence, mostly because the judge hadn't bought the stairs-story.

Before William knew it, he was facing a disciplinary hearing. He knew afterwards that the only reason he had been let off the hook with the strictest possible warning was that the victim of the investigated crime had indeed died without regaining consciousness, and because his record until then had literally been spotless. His superiors had been willing to overlook that one transgression by blaming it on a momentary loss of self-control.

He had never allowed himself to lose his temper that badly again. He'd punched a few problematic types...resisting arrest, and so on. But none had ever gotten the working over that that husband had received.

When he looked at Emma, he realized he would've faced another comatose or even dead femme and a killer who would've probably gotten off the hook.

She had been lucky to have a gun in the house. And lucky that she knew how to use it. And lucky to get to it in time. In fact, Emma Grey was a fantastically lucky femme, as far as William Pongo was concerned.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the voice of Lieutenant Miranda.

"You're here. Great. Let's go in and get her off the hook then, shall we?"

William nodded and got to his feet, passing the papers he'd been holding to the squirrel. He didn't say anything. All he could think on was how lucky Emma had been...

###

Gabrielle smiled and emptied her cup. Then she crossed her legs and leaned back, enjoying the view. Not so much of the surroundings, as of Yohni finishing her cup of coffee. Rome was a beautiful city. They still had a few more days to go, before heading back to the United States.

"All done?" she asked and smiled crookedly.

Yohni nodded and stretched. "Yep. What's next on the agenda then?"

"Y'know...I really think we should brave the queue at the Circus Maximus. I mean...come on, it's where Wanda 'bought it', so to speak," Gabrielle grinned. "I want to see how true to the original our version was..."

The mongoose smiled and nodded, getting up. "Sure. I'm game. Let's just hope we won't have the same kind of queues as the last few days."

Gabrielle had to agree. They had tried three times to get to see the remains of the Circus Maximus, but they both agreed that they wanted a guided tour of the place, and the queues had been extreme so far.

"By the way," Yohni said and slipped her bag over shoulder. "You still haven't told me what made you in such a good mood on the plane. You said we had something to celebrate."

The reminder made Gabrielle smile immediately and she held out a paw for her girlfriend to take. "Well, that's true...I didn't tell you yet..."

"You're not going to?"

"Oh yes...I'm just waiting for something to happen..."

Yohni looked like someone had just told her that two plus two equaled five, but she didn't ask. Instead, she took the filly's paw. Circus Maximus wasn't too far away on foot...or hoof. They'd walk, rather than catching a taxi.

###

Leo felt like the luckiest officer in the army. The unit he had taken over was already top notch. The troops were somewhat rowdy, and they were less than impressed by their new second lieutenant, but they could already shoot the wings off a mosquito at a distance of twenty miles.

He realized he needed to win their respect, but that at least was something he felt fairly sure he could do in a couple of weeks. The obvious choice was to be 'one of the boys'...but he knew that was a bad angle. Officers were not supposed to be equal to privates and non-coms. When he gave an order, it had to be followed immediately. Under fire, that meant the difference between life and death, and the last thing he needed was someone hesitating for some reason.

On the other paw, he did want his troops to like and respect him. Respect being the most important of the two. They could get to like him later.

"Corporal, come over here," he called out.

A lanky skunk saluted and stepped up to him. "Yes sir!"

Leo returned the salute, smartly. The corporal in front of him was wearing a white T-shirt, camo pants, unpolished boots and a cigarette bud. The model of a disheveled soldier.

"Where's your kali-tag, Corporal?" Leo asked, ignoring the rest of the soldier's attire.

"Must have left it on my bunk this morning, sir," the skunk replied, looking a bit too smug.

"I see. You're now dead, and your next of kin won't be notified because unfortunately, in the process of dying, you had your teeth shot out."

The skunk looked like he had to concentrate on not laughing. The rest of the squad behind him looked equally amused.

"Did any of you furs ever see actual combat?" Leo asked, ignoring their smug looks.

"No Sir...there's a distinct lack of battlefields in Pennsylvania," one soldier answered.

Another one grinned widely. "Dunno, really...I heard you had a blazing row with your girlfriend two days ago. That's got to count."

"Nahh...she's got the drop on Joe. Hardly a battle at all. Pussywhipped, I tell ya," a third one laughed.

General laughter ensued. The corporal turned his head to look at his friends, laughing with them. Leo smiled to himself, carefully unholstered his pistol and fired off six rounds into the air.

As on cue, the entire squad dropped to the ground, covering their heads. All laughter had stopped, instantly. General confusion had replaced mirth and jest.

"JESUS CHRIST, Lieutenant!! If you want our attention you just have to ask for it!" the corporal whimpered.

Putting his gun back in its holster, Leo smiled amicably and shook his head. "No, Corporal. I don't. You see, I'm an officer, and you're a non-com. These furs are all privates...wipe that stupid smirk off your face Private Wall or I'll make sure you do four laps around the camp with your privates on public display...and therefor, Corporal, you will do as I order you to do. Not what I ask you to do. Am I clear?"

The skunk nodded, slowly picking himself off the ground. He still looked shaken. "Yes, Sir," he replied, standing to attention.

"At ease," Leo said, still in that same friendly tone of voice. "Now, before you all go gallivanting off to rat on me to Captain Cervus for unauthorized discharge of a firearm on base grounds, I assure you I will go directly myself. Incidentally, I was firing blanks."

The skunk nodded. "Yes, Sir. May...I ask why you did that, Sir?"

"Because I've just been told where we are heading, and when. And if you furs react to small arms fire by dropping to the ground, looking like you're emotionally caught somewhere between bed wetting and a full blown nervous breakdown, you won't last five minutes," Leo answered.

"Yes, Sir...I think it was the surprise element, Sir. These furs are all used to heavy artillery fire. Small arms shouldn't be a problem," the skunk said.

Leo looked him up and down. "Who's ass did you have to kiss to become a Corporal? If that's the extent of your reasoning then you'd better shape up!" he snapped. "Those small arms you don't seem to consider a problem could have been Talibani AK-47's. When you're laying on the ground, bleeding from fifteen different gunshots and the bright white light at the end of the tunnel seems to be all you can see, are you going to tell St. Peter 'Small arms shouldn't be a problem'?"

The skunk winced. "No, Sir."

"That's more like it. The enemy we'll be facing won't have much in ways of actual artillery. We'll most likely be far behind the front lines but that just means we will be exposed to guerrilla tactics, and trust me...the Afghan tribes invented guerrilla warfare," Leo said, sharply, looking at the furs in front of him. "From this moment on, all passes are canceled. Call your girlfriends and wives and let them know. If I see one single fur without his basics in order in fifteen minutes, he'll be on kitchen detail until we ship out. That goes for you too, Corporal. Get that damned kali tag!"

"YesSIR!" the skunk replied and saluted.

Leo grinned to himself as he saw furs sprinting towards the sleeping area. They might not like him for it now, but he knew they'd understand soon enough.

###

Miranda cracked her knuckles and leaned back in her seat. This wasn't really a courtroom. It was a meeting room with the chairs and tables arranged in something resembling what you'd find in a court. There was a blackboard on the wall, and an overhead projector had been set up with a screen as well. The air was stale. While the squirrel had no doubt that the room was in frequent use, it was an old building and somehow it seemed like the kind of room that smelled stale within ten minutes of being vacated.

The prosecution was nearly done presenting the case to the judge. This was a preliminary court-meeting and Emma wasn't there. Normally, this would be a formality. A fur had died...so there would be a trial. There had to be some really, really overwhelming evidence to ensure this wasn't the case.

The reason Miranda wasn't worried was that she actually had such evidence. Sworn statements from several rock solid witnesses to begin with, the forensics report from the crime scene and most importantly...her ace in the hole...the coroners report.

That one she hadn't shown to anyone yet. As the officer in charge of the investigation, she'd be expected to get up there with all that the police had found out, in just a few moments. After that sleazy wolf was done kissing up to the judge. She didn't like that kind of lawyer. In her opinion it didn't matter if a lawyer was defense or prosecution counsel. It mattered if they had integrity, and this one...Mr. Canis...certainly didn't.

"...And therefore, as I'm sure you can see, Your Honor, this is an open and close case. We have a young male, shot dead. The public will demand his murderer brought to justice."

Miranda rolled her eyes. She hadn't even groaned before the 'Objection' was called. A rotund terrier got out of his chair and adjusted his badly fitting suit slightly.

"Your Honor, we're here to establish whether there was in fact a murder or a clear case of self defense. The defense would like to remind Mr. Canis that the State Prosecutors office cannot decide whether someone is a murderer or not."

The squirrel smiled, lazily and nodded. Right on cue.

The judge removed her glasses and rubbed her face. "Mr. Canis...every time I have the pleasure of having you in my courtroom, I have to remind you of this. I'll try again...slowly...and this time I really hope you get it so I won't have to repeat it next time, all over again. See this mallet in my paw? See it? That means I am the judge. You are down there in front of me, which means you're a lawyer," she said, speaking very slowly and clearly, like she was explaining the concept to a three-year-old. "That means you present your case and I decide whether you are convincing or not. You do not sentence anyone, nor do you determine guilt. I'm only going to say this to you this once...am I clear?"

Mr. Canis nodded, looking grossly insulted as he took his seat again. "Yes, Your Honor."

"Excellent," the judge said and looked towards Miranda. "Well, Lieutenant...we've heard the prosecution say this is an open and closed murder case. We've heard the defense say this is an open and closed case of self defense. And I'm not convinced of either yet, so...what do you have for me?"

Miranda got up, bringing her paperwork with her. She cleared her throat and headed towards the blackboard. "Quite a lot, Your Honor..." she began, starting to draw.

###

The mood in the room was tense. Esteban had been walking back and forth by the telephone for the last half hour and Jean had commented twice that he would wear a hole in the carpet if he didn't stop. She knew he wouldn't. He needed to move around. Waiting was definitely the worst part.

"I hate thees..." he grumbled. For probably the tenth time in as many minutes.

Jean nodded. "We both do. Come on over here and sit down and have something to drink. You're just stressing yourself even more..."

"Eef I deedn't know you better, Chica, I'd say that's callous..."

"You do know me better, though."

Esteban nodded and ran a paw through his mane. "Si. I do. But I don't understand how you can be so calm...she's your amiga too!"

Jean nodded and looked into her mug. "I know. And I'm not calm. I'm sitting here, shaking all over and frankly I'm scared to death of what the message will be when that phone rings. Now...if you won't come over and have something to drink, will you at least come over and hold me? Before I start spilling tea all over myself, from shaking?"

The wolf blinked, then nodded and moved over to the couch, sitting down and slipping his arms around his girlfriend. "Of course. I deedn't know. I'm sorree..."

Leaning her head against Esteban's chest, Jean sighed and shrugged. "Don't be sorry. We're both worried sick about this."

Esteban was about to answer when the phone ran. The only reason Jean didn't spill tea all over both herself and the couch was that she immediately clasped a paw over the top of her mug. She bit her lip...the liquid was scalding hot.

"I'd better get eet..." Esteban said, disentangling himself again.

He walked up to the phone and reached for it with a shaky paw. Again, that nagging feeling of guilt came over him. This would never have happened if he and Leo hadn't taken things too far with Jeremy. Or would it? Everyone kept telling him that he wasn't to blame but it was difficult to believe.

Lifting the receiver to his ear, he cleared his throat. "Hola...Esteban speakeeng..." he said, hoarsely.

He listened...for a long time. Occasionally, he nodded. Finally he hung up. He hadn't said a word since introducing himself. He even forgot to say goodbye. It took a while before he turned around to look at Jean too. It looked like he needed to regain control of his legs first.

"What??" the vixen finally asked, eyes wide as saucers.

Esteban wanted to sit down. Very badly. His stomach felt very strange and he wasn't sure if he would need to throw up.

"They let her go..." he whispered. "The coroners report made eet clear she shot heem layeeng down, on her back. The angles of the wounds...or sometheeng like that..."

Jean didn't hear any more than that. She was already on her way to get her jacket and shoes.

###

Gabrielle looked around with a big smile on her face.

"You gotta give credit to Zig Zag for how she managed to get it to look just about right..."

Yohni smiled and crossed her arms over her chest, looking around. She had to agree. Even if Circus Maximus was mostly a ruin nowadays, it was easy to see the similarities with what it had looked like in the movie.

"Well, the boss put in the money, hon...the work was done mostly by some skilled CGI furs, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. But even if it was a team effort, with all of us pitching in, AVC is her movie more than anyone else's."

The mongoose nodded and scratched her cheek, swatting a mosquito. She had probably swatted the first three dozen since entering this place. They seemed to like it there.

"I know," she said and stepped up to Gabrielle. "Now...you're still holding out on me..."

Gabrielle tried to look innocent. It didn't work very well. Instead, she shook her head and laughed a little. "Yeah, I know. It's not fair of me, is it?"

"No it isn't. Now would you mind letting me in on your big secret?"

The equine nodded, brushing her paws off against one another and looking around the Circus Maximus one more time, as if to take in the atmosphere. "I will. You know, Yohni...I can almost hear it. The roar...if you close your eyes. Try it...I swear, you can hear it."

Yohni blinked...yet again, something had derailed the conversation. But she humored Gabrielle. The filly's voice had been oddly dreamy. Like there was more to it than merely what was said. She closed her eyes.

She could hear Gabrielle still speaking. Still in that oddly dreamy tone of voice.

"The whole place is packed. Full...to the last seat or stand. Up there, at the end...the Emperor is watching."

To her own surprise, Yohni could easily imagine that. She smiled and nodded, remembering the scenes from the movie, taking place in the arena.

"Yes. I can see them," she answered, whispering too.

Gabrielle's voice had moved to the other side of her. "Roaring...cheering...demanding to be entertained. And down below...a gladiator is kicking up dust and sand..."

Yohni just nodded, not saying another word. She was smiling.

"Right here...where we're standing, two lovers watch the spectacle...both horrified and thrilled...entertained and disgusted at the same time," Gabrielle's voice said. It had moved back to where it had originally been.

"What are their names?"

"I don't know...but I can hear what they are saying to each other..."

"What are they saying then?"

"One is asking the other...'will you marry me?'..."

Yohni's eyes flew open and she turned her head to look at the filly next to her. She didn't answer, although she had no doubt the question was really directed at her. Her throat constricted and words failed her. The filly was standing next to her. There was a serenely peaceful look on her face...her head was slightly tilted backwards, so as to catch the sun on her face. The wind had caught her mane and sent it flying.

She was beautiful...

Gabrielle opened her eyes as well and turned to look at the smaller femme.

"Will you?" she asked.

Slowly, a smile spread on Yohni's face. From ear to ear. "You're serious, aren't you?" she asked, her voice trembling a little.

"Never been more serious about anything," Gabrielle answered, calmly.

"But...but how? I mean...there's no legal way to marry in the United States is there?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "Not yet at least. When it comes to morality, we live in a medieval country...what can I say? I have to admit, when I found out that we could in Denmark, I was tempted to go for Danish citizenship...but I guess that'd take too long," she said and smiled crookedly, looking at the empty stands of the Circus Maximus with an almost longing glance. "I asked Zig Zag if she'd be witness to us taking vows and she said she'd be happy to. Before giving me a lecture about how she wasn't running a matchmaking agency. I think she's happy...it had that kind of 'tone to it'. Anyway...who cares about the law in this case? Look at Jean and Esteban. Do they need the law to sanction their love?"

"Not for a minute..." the mongoose answered. "And neither do we. Yes, Gabby...I'll marry you."

Gabrielle smiled and looked back over the arena, for a brief second before closing her eyes again. "Strange..." she said. "It's gone quiet now. I can't hear anything...except my own heartbeat..."

Yohni reached out and took the equine's paw in her own. "Were you nervous about asking?"

"Terrified."

Laughing softly, Yohni pulled Gabrielle towards her and down for a kiss.

###

By the time Esteban and Jean reached Emma's apartment, they had both managed to calm down just a little. It had taken most of the trip there, though. Esteban had repeated what Miranda had said on the telephone, but he wanted to know more.

The squirrel had promised to come by later to explain everything.

"Esteban, what if the prosecution decides to appeal this decision? What if they find out that Miranda knows Emma?" Jean asked as they stood in front of the building.

"Chica...Meeranda doesn't know Emma. She knows you and Gabbee. She's met Emma once or twice, veree brieflee, and eef aneetheeng, she's an eyeweetness to what Jeremee had done to her. Remember? She was at the partee where I proposed? She saw Emma too."

Jean nodded. She'd asked the same thing twice before already, and Esteban didn't even sound impatient with her. No doubt, he was worried as well.

"Her beeggest problem now weell be to get on weeth her life," the wolf said and took Jean's paw in his.

"You can say that again. I wish there was something we could do for her..."

"There ees...we can be her friends and stand by her."

"Something more I mean..."

Esteban nodded. He knew what Jean meant. He had many of the same thoughts, but somehow, he had to be the rational, calm, levelheaded one this time. Slipping an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, he entered the building and started up the stairs. He didn't let go of Jean, wanting the vixen to understand he was there and ready to hold her. This was a very tense situation after all.

Neither of them knew what state they'd find Emma in, either.

That, Esteban realized, was probably the real worry for both of them.

He knocked on the door and rang the doorbell. Redundant but it was the way he always did it.

Emma opened the door after what seemed like an eternity. She looked very tired. Not sleepy, but emotionally and mentally drained. Esteban felt pretty sure she had lost weight...even though she hadn't been gone that long. He couldn't begin to imagine what it was like for the mink to be back in her apartment. On one paw, it was probably wonderful to be home. On the other...this was where it had happened. How would she deal with it, every time she walked past that spot?

He realized no one had said anything yet, so he cleared his throat.

"Eef...you would rather we went away, I understand. Eef you'd rather that...that I left, then I understand too, Emma. But...we wanted to come by, rather than just call to ask how you're doeeng..."

Emma just nodded and stepped aside to let them inside. "Please...come in. I don't think I can bear being alone tonight," she said, quietly.

Jean got out from under Esteban's arm and gave her friend a long, warm hug. It was the only thing she could think of doing. The result was as one would expect it.

Emma began to tremble and sob against the vixen's shoulder.

For a moment, Esteban wondered if he was in the way, somehow. Then he caught Jean's eye and nodded as he headed into the living room. A moment later a soft 'ai caramba...I thought thees would be gone...' could be heard.

"I couldn't...I couldn't..." Emma tried, between sobs.

"Nobody else could have, in your situation, either," Jean whispered and kept hugging her friend when she knew what was going on. "Esteban, will you call Miriam and Fox, please? They need to come over here right away."

"Si...naturallee. Emma, you deedn't call them? I had expected them to be here when we came..." the wolf said, kindly, putting a paw on the mink's trembling shoulder.

Emma shook her head and tried to concentrate on not sobbing while she answered. It wasn't easy. "I tried twice but I started crying while waiting for them to pick up the phone," she whispered.

Esteban nodded. "I'm calleeng..." he said and turned to find the phone.

###

Miranda closed the door behind her and kicked off her shoes. She removed her jacket and sighed, looking tired for a brief moment before she took her bag off her shoulder, dropping it on the table in the hall. Then she looked in the small mirror.

"You did a good thing today," she told herself.

Somehow, it rang terribly hollow. While Emma was free, she was also going to suffer under what had happened to her, for the rest of her life. That, at least, was something no amount of police work could help her with. All she could do for Emma Grey was to find enough evidence for the judge to give the mink her freedom back.

"How did it go?" Peter asked. He was standing in the doorway to the living room with Dina on his arm. He wasn't wearing his prosthetic.

Miranda smiled and looked at him. "She was released. The judge listened to everything I had to say...and everything the prosecution had to say...and everything everyone else had to say...and let her go."

Peter nodded and looked relieved. "I knew you'd do it..." he said.

Dina, blissfully unaware of the seriousness of what mommy and daddy were talking about held out her arms towards Miranda, wanting to change arms.

Gladly taking her daughter onto her arms, Miranda smiled and kissed Dina's cheek. The child giggled and leaned her head on her mother's shoulder. Miranda looked back at her husband, shrugging slightly.

"It wasn't me alone. The two things that made all the difference were the coroner's report and my hunch about Jeremy's past."

"Do tell. I haven't managed to get food together yet. Work kept me at the office too long today and Dina has been a veeeeeery demanding little lady since I got home. She's been fed already though."

"What, have you been stealing your daddy's time?" Miranda asked and smiled widely at Dina. "Stealing is a crime you know. Mommy ought to arrest you!"

Dina beamed brightly, recognizing the entirely playful tone in mommy's voice. She reacted in the best way she knew. She threw her arms around Miranda's neck and kissed her mommy's cheek.

Miranda melted. "It's unfair, y'know. They're so small and they have so many weapons to use against us adults. Charm being the worst one and we can't even make them carry a license for it," she chuckled.

Peter laughed a little and moved into the flat again. "Come on, I'll call out for pizza and we'll just talk. Tell me more, anyway..."

Miranda bobbed her daughter on her arm and entered as well. Pizza sounded like an awfully good idea to her, today.

"William Pongo did a fantastic job on the background information. I drowned the judge in nastiness. The prosecution tried to protest and said it was a one sided affair and that we obviously hadn't done a background check on Emma, too. So I told him that I had, and explained that Emma is a former university student, now graduate historian who has a history of self doubt and self depreciation," she said and sat down in the kitchen, tickling a very happy and slightly sleepy Dina a little. "The kind of student that her classmates barely remember, except for a select few. That she had excellent grades, however, and that she came from a good, solid family. That we had been unable to dig up anyone who remembered anything resembling a violent streak."

"That must've deflated him," Peter grinned. "I can just imagine. Who was the prosecutor anyway?"

"Mr. Canis..."

"Oh good GOD, not him."

"Exactly..."

Peter groaned and shook his head. "He wins a lot of cases because he can wrap some judges around his pinky...I don't know how. He seems like an incompetent jerk to me."

"To me as well. Anyway...after I had described Jeremy's past relations and read excerpts from the witness statements, the judge asked if the witnesses were willing to take the stand to testify to those things. I said that I had only included character witnesses who had said they would. I tell you, Mr. Canis shrank an inch in his seat," Miranda giggled.

Peter laughed again, dryly. "What kind of pizza are you in the mood for?"

"No anchovies, lots of olives and salad, and fresh tomatoes. Anyway...then I went on to the coroner's report. That really swung it. It said very clearly that the bullets had all entered Jeremy's body at an angle indicating that the shooter had been prone on his or her back, on the floor, at a distance of no more than seven feet. The bullets had not simply hit vital organs, so the shots were unlikely to have been aimed. Emma emptied that gun in sheer panic and desperation. The bullets themselves had either lodged against bone in the body, or they had gone nearly through."

"Powerful handgun then..." Peter said, nodding and picking up the phone to call out for food.

"Not really. As I said...just seven feet of distance."

"Good point. Hello? Ahh...yes, my name is Peter Spermophilus. I'd like to order two pizza's...yes, two..."

Miranda waited while her husband placed the order...prodding Dina's tummy playfully. Today's events were less unpleasant now that she was home, in safe surroundings. She heard Peter hang up and she looked back at him.

"What was equally important was that apart from the gunshots, there were no wounds of any kind on Jeremy's body indicating any kind of struggle. No bruises or abrasions, except those he had clearly received when he fell. This was then compared to the physical injuries sustained by Emma Grey. I had photographs taken at the hospital, and the doctor's report on her injuries for comparison," she explained and smiled a little. "The judge looked at Mr. Canis and informed him that while a young male had indeed been shot dead, a blind fur would be able to see the simple truth of the matter. If Emma had not fired that gun...she'd be dead instead of Jeremy."

Peter nodded and came over, giving his wife a gentle, one armed squeeze. "You did a good thing today..." he said, softly.

"Thank you, Peter..."

"In a few days, I'll call Jean from work and ask if she can tell me how Emma is holding up, if you'd like?"

"I'd like that very much...thank you."

"Don't mention it..."

Miranda looked at Dina. "And now, Dina...it's your bedtime."

"Awwww..." Dina pouted.

Miranda didn't know anyone else who could make that big a pout, but she was adamant.

"Bedtime, sweetums. But you get to wear your nice new pajamas and I'll read you a bedtime story."

Dina pondered that a moment. Then she nodded and smiled widely. Bedtime stories were always good.

Getting up, and hoisting her daughter back onto her arm, Miranda smiled at her husband. "I'm sure the pizza will still be warm when she's asleep..."

Peter nodded. "I'm sure."