Disclaimer: I don't own the characters you read before you. All rights belong to Wolf Films, and all that.

Author's Note: Considering Jesse Martin's possible dismissal in the 18th season, I feel like I should show some of my appreciation for both the fine man and character. It's my first proper stab at Ed (and toned down descriptions), so hope you enjoy.

Timeline: Prior to the second half of "Endurance."

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A dapper Detective Green scanned yet another DD-5 document. He heard a nearby sigh as he massaged his eyelids.

"That's the beat cop's version of forty winks," a crusty deadpan declared. He immediately eyed the source of the voice: his equally dressed partner, Detective Briscoe.

"It's been a long case," he returned in his usual gruff tone.

Briscoe parked himself at his crosswise metal desk, policemen bustling within the dingy workspace. "They are all long cases, except for the short ones."

The strapping, dark-skinned young man leaned backward in his office chair. "And the short ones can get even longer, Lennie, and I get it."

The lanky senior pointed at him. "Now you're getting it."

Resignedly, Green plunked a file folder in his outbox. "And McCoy and Carmichael can deal with her all they want."

"That's the part where you sleep in, Ed."

He stroked his black goatee. "Yeah, until the next one."

Lennie sneered. "Hopefully, the next one won't have a mother setting a fire, killing her disabled kid."

"The new D.A. has her work cut out."

"McCoy can handle it."

"McCoy looks like he's been around the block a few times."

He roved a hand through his sleek, molded auburn hair. "Yeah, but I'm more attractive."

"Whatever you say, Lennie," Ed chuckled.

"So, you've been here for almost a year — a little too late to run for the hills."

The junior officer plucked at his suspenders. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Hey, don't get too cocky on me."

"Who's cocky?"

Lennie hoisted an eyebrow. "It's a habit I seem to have with younger partners."

He crossed his arms outward. "That better be past tense, man."

"You grew out of it; some don't."

"Anyone I know?"

"You heard of Mike Logan?"

He knitted his brow. "Who hasn't?"

"Yeah, well, Mike was a lot like that, which, sometimes, blew up in his face."

Ed's left cheek twitched. "I'm sure he learned his lesson by now."

Lennie stroked his jowl. "Yeah, he did."

He rummaged through another file folder. "Whatever you say."

"Stop saying that. So, what are you reading?"

He quickly blinked. "I have no idea — I think I should get some sleep."

"There's an idea."

"What about you?"

The elder shrugged his shoulder. "I don't even know what day it is anymore."

"I know it's still daylight, or you'd be grumbling like a grizzly."

His posture slumped. "I need my beauty sleep, and it helps with the ladies."

"We're not going to talk about the ex-wives, now, are we?"

Lennie's eyes squinted. "Alright, then, Partner, you got anyone at home?"

"Nothing beyond family."

"You look like you have women in the palm of your hand."

Ed's fine cheeks reddened. "I would, if I didn't have cop hours."

"You're a regular Marvin Gaye."

"I can only hope, man."

"You'd make for a better pimp, anyway. So, is it anyone I know? We have our fair share of ladies, here — both cops and A.D.A.s."

He gazed northward. "There might be one, but she's too tough."

"Tough, how?"

"Sarcastic, defensive, the whole nine yards. Yet, there is something else going on with her, and I'd like to find out."

Lennie tilted forward. "Don't tell me 'Fast Eddie' is out of moves, now."

"He might be."

"That shouldn't stop you, and there are other fish in the puddle."

Ed nodded sideways. "I dunno; she's special."

He curled his upper lip inward. "They're all special, until they say, 'I do.'"

"I'm not ready to be that cynical yet."

He snorted. "So, are you going to tell me who she is, or do I have to drag into you into the interrogation room myself?"

"Hey, guys. You got the Megan Parnell file for me?" A throaty female accent announced itself. The pair eyeballed an advancing A.D.A. Carmichael.

Ed handed her the document. "Just putting the finishing touches on it, Abbie."

The elegant, statuesque young woman slipped it into her attaché case. "Great. And I have to go see your lieutenant; where is she?"

Lennie pointed to the outside stairs. "I think she went up a floor."

Abbie sighed, tucking in a raven-colored tress. "My work is never done."

"Isn't that why you're paid the big money?"

"Maybe with a new D.A. in charge, I can finally get a raise." Her attention then focused onto a shifting Ed. "You alright, Detective?"

His spine instantly braced. "Uh, it's been a long night; I was about to get some sleep."

"Sounds like a good idea. Thanks, guys." She sauntered toward her destination.

"I thought you were about to propose," Lennie smirked.

The ruddy male veered off. "Shuddup."

"Hey, you could do worse, and she is easy on the eyes."

Fingertips rested on Ed's chiseled jaw. "I can't get her out of my head, Lennie."

"Try; dating prosecutors isn't worth it."

"Speaking from experience?"

His nostrils flared. "No, but I've seen it with other men."

"I'm not usually this nervous around a woman, bro. I mean, it's been a year, and I thought I'd be over that by now."

"Ed, certain women can bring out the worst in a guy, and it doesn't matter when."

"Yeah, girl like her has to have a man already."

Lennie slanted backward, narrow fingers intertwined. "I don't know about that, but I do have my theories about her and everyone's favorite Executive D.A."

Ed's pupils rapidly dilated. "McCoy? Isn't he older than Moses?"

The eyebrow ridge was at bottom level. "He's not that old. The guy still has some moves left — their brand of chemistry has to come from something."

He was face-down onto the panel. "You know you're not helping at all."

"McCoy's known for it. Even if they're dating, his relationships don't usually last — try your luck later."

He perked upward. "Yeah?"

"Besides, Ed, if he treated her like a mistress, she'd kick him six ways to Sunday."

"That's Abbie, alright," he grinned.

"I still think you're better off with someone else. I think you're right — there is something going on with her, which could definitely blow up in your face."

He slowly bobbed his head. "You're probably right, man."

Lennie again pointed at the youth. "I'm just a detective, and that's why I'm paid the big money, too. Now, go to bed, and get that woman out of your head."

Ed scratched at his short, pitch-black hair, beam brightening. "Yes, Dad."

"Or if you have to, just make it a quickie."

"Yes, Dad."

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