Sam was starting to wonder if he was losing his mind. He figured his first time with jury duty would be a learning experience, but he never expected anything like this. Nobody else in the court seemed all that concerned with the first witness's sudden changes, so Sam decided to just go with it - maybe he just hadn't gotten enough sleep.
There was a new witness on the stand - the officer who had arrested the defendant. Sam pushed all distractions out of his mind while the prosecutor questioned him.
"So you had no trouble at all detaining the suspect, Officer Phelps?"
"Like I said, the car pulled over immediately. I ordered him out with his hands up, and he complied. Then I cuffed him and put him in the back of my patrol car."
"And this man was driving the car in question?"
"Yes," Officer Joe Phelps replied, confident in his answer.
"Can you identify this man in court today?"
"He's right there," Phelps said, raising a perfectly manicured finger to the defendant.
"Um... why are your nails painted like that?"
"What do you mean?" Officer Phelps curled his fingers inward and looked at them with a smile, "This is standard uniform protocol - almond shaped, rose petal pink, high gloss."
The attorney was flabbergasted for a moment. "You mean to tell me all the men on your force have pretty pink manicures?"
The officer seemed offended by the question. "The uniform is part of the job, sir. And I'm proud to wear it."
The prosecutor blinked a couple of times then looked the officer up and down, like he had just seen something he didn't expect.
"Wait... did... did you come to court wearing that?!"
"My uniform? What kind of question is that? I wear this every day!" He tugged at the pink bra strap on his shoulder, which caused his generous cleavage to bounce in their lacy cups. "Frankly, I find this line of questioning disrespectful!"
Sam squirmed in his seat in the jury box. What was that lawyer thinking, asking questions like that! There was certainly nothing wrong with the officer's uniform - it was the sort of thing police wore all the time. He looked over at the bailiffs, similarly attired in pink lacy bras, black booty shorts, thigh-high fishnets, and stiletto booties. They stood at attention, masking their own annoyance at the attorney's disrespect. Yeah, it was a tough job behind the "pale pink line" as they called it, Sam certainly didn't envy it. But he absolutely was proud of the officers that served, and protected, and looked gorgeous while doing it.
The prosecutor seemed to be regaining his composure. "I'm... so sorry, please forgive me. You're an exemplary officer, a credit to your department. And you've got some damn fine tits, too."
"Thank you."
"No further questions."
"Your witness, Mr. Hall," the judge said.
"It's about time!" Lucien said, nearly leaping out of his chair and walking right up to the witness stand. "Let's get down to business! Do you remember the day you... picked me up?" He said with a wink.
The officer's scowl suddenly became a beaming smile, "I sure do,"
"Why don't you walk us through what happened?" He asked eagerly
