A/N: please read and review! Thanks! Of course I don't own them. : )

Pop. Pop. Pop. Mike Logan whirled around in his chair, popping his gum, despite the glares from his partner. "What?" he said.

Carolyn Barek raised a brow. "You ever seen that movie 'Chicago'?"

"...no."

"You pop that gum one more time..."

He snickered. "And what?"

"You pop that gum one more time…"

He grinned.

Pop.

The next thing he knew he was staring down the barrel of her service revolver.

"What the? What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?"

Her eyes narrowed, she kept the gun on his temple.

"It's called justifiable homicide, gum-boy."

Stupidly, he grinned. "What you don't like that?" He cracked his gum again.

"Logan! I will kill you. Or at least maime the pretty-boy face…then what will all those poor little ADAs and rookie lady cops do?"

"I am not a pretty-boy! I don't even care how my hair looks—clearly—and my fashion sense is terrible…"

She cocked the trigger. "You're really not helping your case here."

"Alright, alright, whaddaya want?"

He really didn't like the gun in his face. You know, he thought to himself, none of his other partners had ever tried to kill him. Not Max or Cerreta or Lennie or even that dumbass Boyer…not Frankie Silvera either…actually, she had threatened him on more than one occasion. Women. He sighed, and gave Carolyn a hopeful grin.

"You know, I am really good with my hands…" He wiggled his brows like Groucho Marx. Barek narrowed her eyes and pulled the trigger. Click.

"Dammit! You swiped my bullets again!" Carolyn hit Mike on the arm.

"Holy shit! You were going to kill me!"

"Like I said, justifiable homicide."