"Holding Out for a Lawyer"

By wtchcool

(Disclaimer: I do not own "Eli Stone," "I Need a Hero," or "Inkheart.")

Eli woke to the sound of his answering machine going off. Groggily, he opened one eye a crack to look at the time on his alarm clock—6:45 a.m. He groaned and turned over, wishing he could just snooze awhile longer. After all, he had stayed up late the night before, helping one of the young associates at Wethersby and Stone prepare for an upcoming trial. Still half-asleep, he tried to listen to the message being left for him. He was able to make out the voice of his firm's senior partner. Unfortunately, the volume on the answering machine was too low for him to catch more than a few words here and there.

"…defendant, is charged with…being arraigned later today at…says she's made multiple requests to see an attorney…Need you to…"

Sighing, Eli started to get out of bed, and went to head to the kitchen to put up coffee for himself. What he saw as he left his bedroom made him pause in his tracks. Where there should have been a hallway that would lead to his living room and kitchen, there was instead what appeared to be the waiting room in a police precinct, if said rooms usually had grand pianos in them. Blinking, Eli looked on as a middle-aged woman in an orange jumpsuit turned behind her to the man sitting at the piano and said: "Put it in C minor," before she began to sing.

"Where have all the con-men gone and

where do all men go?

Where's the street-wise counselor

To fight my legal woes?

Isn't there a sly knight

Upon a fiery steed?

Late at night, I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need…

I need a lawyer;

I'm holding out for a lawyer 'til the end of the night;

Oh he's gotta be sharp and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be ready to fight;

I need a lawyer;

I'm holding out for a lawyer 'til the morning light;

Oh he's gotta be sure and he's gotta be soon and he's gotta be ready for strife—ready for strife;

Somewhere after midnight, tired from the cops' queries,

Somewhere, though beyond my reach, must be someone able to help me;

Confronted with a face like thunder, I can't stand the heat;

It's gonna take a Silvertongue to keep me on the streets;

And when the pressure starts mounting above

The point where I want to scream;

I could swear there was someone, somewhere, who could help me

And beginning to feel a chill and the strain,

Listening to how they found the blood,

I can sense I'm in trouble—there's a sinking feeling in my gut;

I need a lawyer; I'm holding out for a lawyer 'till the morning light;

And he's gotta be sure and he's gotta be soon and he's gotta be ready for strife;

Oh he's gotta be sharp and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be ready to fight;

I need a lawyer!"

As the hallucination faded, Eli decided the coffee could wait. He had a call to return, and, he suspected, a new client to meet—in person.

Author's Note: Well, that's my first song-fic. It was inspired by my criminal procedure professor (may he never read this), who explained Miranda to us by saying that when a suspect invokes her right to counsel, she's really saying that she needs a defense lawyer to come act as her knight in shining armor. I'm going to miss that class. I couldn't resist the thought of a parody of "I Need a Hero," but I'm afraid this is the best I could do tonight.