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Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Highwire - Part 11

Claire had checked her answering machine for a message from Jack when she woke up that morning. Again, there was nothing. The fact that there were no messages didn't come as much of a surprise to her: she had slept so fitfully that she was sure she would have heard the phone ring.

She debated whether or not to call again, but decided against it. The ball was in Jack's court now. She had made the first move. It was now up to him to call when he was ready to forgive her. She prayed that it would be soon.

With a heavy heart, she got ready for her visit with her mother and Mac.

Just before she left, she put a call into Liz Olivet's answering service, saying she could be reached at her mother's number any time prior to late Sunday night, and that, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, she would like to get together with her sometime before early Sunday afternoon.

*****

Claire pulled up in front of her mother's house and killed the engine. Suddenly, she began to regret her decision to spend her weekend there. She would rather have been spending her time working things out with Jack. But the problem with Jack had not arisen until after she'd agreed to the visit, and her mother was not the sort of person who weathered a broken commitment well.

Taking a few deep breaths, she opened the car door, grabbed her overnight bag, and headed up the steps to the brownstone. She slipped her key in the lock, and opened the door. Her mother was at the top of the landing, just about to come down the stairs when Claire entered.

"Hi honey!," she greeted cheerfully. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

Claire flashed her mother the brightest smile she could muster. "Hi Mom. No, I haven't eaten. Where's Mac?"

"I sent him out to the store for a few things. I would have gone, but I wanted to make sure I was home when you got here."

During her speech, Jeannine Geller had finished descending the stairs. She crossed to Claire, and mother and daughter embraced.

Claire's mother was a tiny woman, just under 5'2", and petite. But for the height difference, and the differences brought on by age, Claire looked just like her mother.

Jeannine stepped back and took her daughter's face in her hands. Gazing intently upon Claire's face, she said, "I'm so glad you're alright. I've been worried to death about you all week, knowing that maniac was still on the loose. Sometimes, I really hate the work you do. Dealing with the criminal element of society is extremely dangerous. I really wish you'd gone into something safer: corporate law, tax law, entertainment law, or something off the sort."

"Mom,...we've had this conversation a million times."

I know, darling, but I was hoping now, after the ordeal you've been through, you'd finally be willing to listen to reason."

"Mom, for the most part, my job is perfectly safe. This sort of incident is extremely rare," she said, sounding to herself like a broken record. This was the umpteenth time they'd had this particular discussion. "Besides Mom, I LIKE criminal law. I went into law to be a trial lawyer, and there is no greater opportunity for trial work than in a prosecutor's office. Not to mention the feeling of satisfaction I get when we've put on a great case, and the jury rewards us with a conviction. There is nothing like sending someone who has committed a horrendous act of evil against another away for a very long time."

"I just worry about you, sweetheart. I'm your mother. It's my job to worry about you."

"I know, Mom. I know."

"Look, honey, why don't you take your bag up to your room and come back down into the kitchen. I'll be fixing breakfast."

"Alright."

Bag slung over her shoulder, Claire vaulted up the stairs two at a time. She opened the door to her old room and walked in. It had been over 10 years since she had left home to go to university and begin her life as an adult, yet her mother had never changed the decor of her room. Same pastel colour scheme. Same stuffed animals. Same posters of Marlon Brando in his On The Waterfront gear, David Bowie, Prince, and U2 circa their "War" era on the walls.

She set her bag on the chair to her desk, and plopped down on the bed.

"Nothing like coming home to make me feel like I've never grown up," she thought to herself before flopping backward. Looking at the ceiling, he began to laugh. The poster of Sting, with whom she had been madly in love, still hung there. She had placed it directly above her bed so that his would be the last face she saw each night before drifting off into sleep (oh! the dreams she used to have of him!), and the first face she saw each morning.

Lying there, glancing around her girlhood bedroom, something dawned on her. As far as her mother was concerned, Claire hadn't aged pass the teenager she used to be. It made sense. Back then, Claire had let her mother pretty much run her life (or at least, had led her to 'believe' she was running it). Before marrying Mac, her mother had lived her life vicariously through Claire, and Claire had been too young, too naive, and too devastated by her parents' divorce to realise what was going on. It had set the stage for the pattern of control her mother had tried, and was still trying, to exercise over Claire's life.

Well, today, Claire hoped to put a stop to it

"Claire! Breakfast!"

"Woah there, Deja vu!" Claire said out loud, and headed for the kitchen.

"Hey kid," Mac greeted her when she walked into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mac," she said warmly.

He stood up from the table, set his newspaper down, and wrapped Claire in a big bear hug, which Claire returned with equal force. She loved Mac dearly. He had championed her whenever her mother had become too overbearing (he had a very calming effect on his wife), and it was because of him that she had chosen the legal profession.

"How're you holding up, kiddo?" he asked upon releasing her.

"I'm doing fine, Mac, now that Gordon is in custody."

"She's much too thin," her mother chimed in. "Wouldn't you say so?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Mac, winking at Claire. "I seem to have this vision of the beanpole she used to be when we were first married. I'd say she's filled out just fine."

"Thanks, Mac," Claire laughed, socking him playfully on his arm. "I don't know what it is, Mom. I eat like a horse. I'm sometimes horrified at the amount of food I scarf down. I could eat nothing but greasy, fatty foods, and not put on any weight. I'd die of a heart attack at 35, but I'd still be thin."

Claire sat down at the table, as did Mac.

"What's for breakfast?" Claire asked. "I'm starving!"

"Eggs, toast, sausage, homestyle potatoes."

"Mmmmmmmm!" said Claire. Her mother was still the best cook she knew.

As they sat down to breakfast, Claire's mother started in.

"It was awfully nice of Mr. McCoy to let you stay at his apartment."

"Guess I'm going to get this over with sooner than I thought," Claire thought.

To her mother she said, "Yes, it was."

"I still don't understand why you didn't come home."

"Jeannine," Mac interjected, "Don't start..."

"No, Mac, it's alright," said Claire.

"One would think you would have wanted to be with your family during an ordeal like that, not your boss for whom you've only worked four months."

"By the way, Claire," Mac interrupted, in an attempt to change the course of the conversation. "When do we get to meet this Jack McCoy, to whom we owe your continued existence on this planet? We'd like to invite him for dinner, so that we can express our gratitude."

Claire thought for a moment before responding. There were a number of ways she could play this. In the end, she chose the way she figured would most likely shatter her mother's little girl image of her.

"I don't think that will be necessary," she said after a moment.

"Why not?" asked her mother.

Lifting a forkful of egg, Claire said, "I'd say I've thanked him more than enough for all three of us," and shoved the fork into her mouth.

One of Mac's eyebrows shot up, and he began to chuckle.

"What do you mean by that, Claire?" her mother asked suspiciously.

Just then the phone rang.

None of them moved.

"Well?" her mother queried.

"Somebody better answer the phone," remarked Claire as it continued to ring.

Mac got up.

"I'm waiting for an answer," her mother said.

"Claire. There's someone named Liz on the phone for you."

"Claire...." her mother began.

"Mom. I have to take this. It'll only be a few minutes. I'll explain after."

She took the phone from Mac, and wandered with it out into the foyer.

"Liz, thanks for getting back to me so quickly."

"No problem, Claire," said Doctor Olivet, "What can I do for you?

"I was wondering if the offer for a friend to talk to still stands? If so, I'd like to take you up on it."

"Of course! I have plans for the day, but I'm free all day tomorrow."

"Great!" said Claire. "Would it be alright if we met for lunch?"

"That would be fine," said Liz.

They agreed upon a time and place and said their goodbyes.

Claire was somewhat reluctant to go back into the kitchen, but she told herself, "You've opened this can of worms. Best go play it out."

She went back into the kitchen, silently replaced the phone, and returned to her place at the table.

She resumed eating. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mac, looking amused. Her mother was glaring at her.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, her mother asked, "You're sleeping with McCoy, aren't you?"

Claire put her fork down.

"It's a little more than that, mother."

"Are you saying your having a relationship with him?"

"Yes."

"Since when."

Claire thought back for a moment.

"It's been about three weeks," she admitted, "Though it seems much longer."

"Three weeks?" her mother snorted. "Three weeks? Good. You can't have gotten very attached in such a short time. It shouldn't be very difficult for you to end it."

Claire opened her mouth to interrupt, but her mother kept on going.

"Of course, it might be a little awkward for the two of you at work for a while, but you're adults. You should be able to cope."

"Mother, that's enough! I have no intention of ending my relationship with Jack because you think I should. Or for any reason."

"I would have that after being censured as a result of you ill-thought out affair with that Judge, you would have learned your lesson about getting involved with your superiors at work."

"Mom....I cannot even begin to tell you how totally different this is from what went on between Joel Thayer and I. Jack couldn't be LESS like Thayer. He's a good man, Mom. He has some...emotional baggage and issues...particularly surrounding his childhood. But he's good to me, Mom. He doesn't try to control me like Thayer did. He treats me with kindness and respect."

"Isn't this the same Jack McCoy, whom several months ago you told me had worked his way through all of his female assistants? How do you know he doesn't think of you as just another conquest?"

"It's not like that at all."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I know Jack."

"Is that so? After 3 weeks you can make that claim?"

"A lot has happened in those 3 weeks."

"I think you're acting like a fool, Claire. You're going to get hurt just like you did with Joel Thayer. You had to leave your clerkship early because of him. are you going to have to leave the DA's office when McCoy drops you? How many sex scandals do you think your career can take?"

"Mom. Stop. Please. I'm an adult now. I know what I'm doing. If I get hurt, then I'm going to have to deal with it. I'm not so naive that I don't know that's a possibility. But I can't have these feelings and not act on them just because there is a possibility I might get hurt when there is just as great a chance that things will work out for Jack and I."

"What are you saying, Claire? Are you saying you want to marry him?"

Claire looked over at Mac and said to him, "Sometimes she makes me feel like I'm banging my head against a brick wall."

Mac nodded sympathetically. The one bone of contention he had with his wife after 17 years of marriage was the fact that where her daughter was concerned, she spent half of her time trying to mould her into some personal ideal, and the other half criticising her when she didn't live up to it.

Claire focused her attention on her mother once again. "No, Mom, that's not what I'm saying. 3 weeks into a relationship is obviously too soon to be thinking about marriage. But it's also premature to be discussing what will happen when it's over, because at this point, I'm not thinking about it ending. IF down the road, it ends, I'll deal with it. But I'm not going to jinx it by making provisions for an eventuality I have no way of knowing will be an eventuality."

"I think you're looking at this through rose-coloured glasses if you don't prepare yourself for when he tires of you."

"I think you need to leave it alone, Mother."

"I'm just trying to spare you the heartache I'm sure will..."

Claire interrupted her. "If that's your intention, Mom, then I thank you. But I think it's rather arrogant of you to presume to tell me how my relationship with Jack is going to end up when A) you have no idea what's gong on between us, and B) you've never even met the man."

"I think she's telling you to mind your own business, my dear," said Mac.

"She's my daughter, her life IS my business."

"Claire, are you done eating?" Mac asked.

"Yes."

"Would you mind excusing us for a few minutes?"

"Sure," she said. "Thanks for breakfast, Mom. It was great, as usual. I'll be in my old room."

When nearly half an hour had passed, there was a knock on Claire's door. She had closed it so she wouldn't' have to listen to the raised voices downstairs.

"Come in," she called, and Mac entered.

"Hey kiddo," he said, and Claire smiled. Mac would be calling her "kiddo" even when she was old and grey. It didn't bother her to be called kiddo, because, unlike her mother, despite the endearment, Mac treated her like an adult capable of running her own life.

"So," said Claire, "am I disowned?"

"No of course not!" Mac laughed.

Mac moved her overnight bag, pulled the chair directly in front of her bed, and sat down.

"Care to tell me what's wrong?" asked Mac.

"I'd say that was pretty obvious."

"Come on, Claire. I'm not blind," said Mac, "Or stupid. I could tell there was something wrong before you and your mother started going at it."

"Mac, you've always been able to read me a little too well for my comfort."

"What is it? The Gordon thing?"

"I'd be lying if I said that wasn't still on my mind. Unfortunately, that's not what's really bothering me."

He waited for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he probed further, "So tell me what IS bothering you."

"Just promise me you want say anything to my mother, okay? I don't want to hear any 'I-told-you-so' already, because it's not as serious as it sounds."

"You sure about that?" she asked herself silently.

"I'm assuming you and Jack fought?"

Claire nodded.

"Mind if I ask what it was about?"

"It started when I got off the phone with Mom last night. He wanted to know why I hadn't said anything about us to her when she was trying to set me up with that guy from Wall Street. I told him it was because I had to approach her with the subject in the right way --which, ironically, I didn't do-- and he felt as though I was ashamed of him in some way, and.... oh, I don't know. It was ridiculous. We both said some awful things to each other, and it ended with him storming out. I tried to call him later, but he wasn't home. Or wasn't answering. I left several messages, but he has yet to call back."

"Did you try again this morning?"

She shook her head.

"Why not?" Mac queried.

"Well, for one thing, I don't want to act like Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction", and....also, I can't help but wonder if I've alienated him beyond the point of wanting to work things out."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes. I've only just realised it, but I do. Very much."

"Does he know it?"

"I told him so on the machine last night," she admitted. "I have yet to tell him to his face."

"Does he love you?"

"I don't ....Yes...yes, I think he does. Or did."

"Then your course seems pretty clear, wouldn't you say?

"Enlighten me."

"You've got to fight for him. Put your stubbornness --you got that from your mother, you know-- aside and do whatever it takes."

"I know you're right, Mac."

"Claire, let me tell you something. This life is uncertain. It also has a way of toying with us. I believe that there is one person for whom each of us was intended. Those of us who find that person, like your mother and I, are very lucky, for there are some people who spend their entire lives looking for that person, while others overlook their soul mate because they're too blind or stubborn, or because they think that there is something better out there for them. Don't throw whatever it is you and Jack have away because of pride. Don't let it be pride --yours or his-- that keeps you from finding out if you were meant to be together."

Claire leaned forward to hug him. "Thanks, Mac. I knew I could count on you."

"Anytime, kiddo, you know that," he told her, patting her back lightly before easing out of the embrace. "And by the way, I won't be mentioning this to your mother. I've just got her convinced that you've got everything under control, and that you know what you're doing, so she won't meddle anymore. I don't want to set her off again. So hurry up and patch things up, will you, or she may never be convinced to let you live your life as you see fit."

"You've got it," she promised, smiling.

"Listen, Claire," he said, "Why don't you invite Jack to Christmas day with us? My mother, both of your step-brothers and their families will be here. So will your mother's sister, her husband, your cousin and her family."

"The whole family, then? Even John and Marry and the new baby?"

Mac nodded, "Has my son ever missed a Christmas with us?" he asked. "They're coming in on the train from Philadelphia."

"Poor Jack doesn't stand a chance."

"You're right," laughed Mac. "He doesn't."

"What is Mom going to say about this?"

"It was her idea."

"What???" exclaimed Claire, incredulous. "You're joking!"

"No, actually, I'm not. Her methods may be overbearing at times, Claire, but your mother loves you very much. If Jack is what makes you happy, then she'll be happy for you. Your happiness is all she's ever wanted...she just gets confused at times as to the difference between what makes her happy, and what will make you happy. Be patient with her. She's working on letting go of her little girl. Granted it's taking her longer than most....but I suspect that is because you are her only child."

"You know, Mac, maybe it would help her if you could convince her to redecorate this room. It's eerie coming in here....it's like entering a shrine to myself."

"I've tried, Claire, though not recently. I'll start trying again after the holidays. Maybe seeing you and Jack together will help."

*****

Later in the day, Claire and her mother headed out to do some Christmas shopping.

At one point, Jeannine turned to her daughter and said, "So, tell me about you and Jack."

"Mom...." began Claire, preparing for another row, "if you're trying to start a fight....please don't."

"I'm not, Claire! Jesus! And I'm not meddling. Can't I be curious about the man you're involved with without having an ulterior motive?"

"I don't know, Mother. I'd like to think so. Can you?"

"As difficult as it is for me, I'm holding out the olive branch here, Claire. I realise that in trying to protect you from experiencing the pain I've known, I've been controlling and over-protective But honestly all I've wanted to do was insulate you from hurt. I forget that you're not my baby girl anymore, not chronologically anyhow, and that you have a mind and will of your own, and that your desires are separate from mine.

"I guess what I'm trying to say," Jeannine continued, "is that all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. I always thought I had the answer as to how you would accomplish that....but I've been wrong. If Jack is going to be the one who makes you happy, then despite any reservations I might have....I'll support you."

Claire couldn't believe this was her mother. Tears welled in her eyes. Her mother had never spoken to her in this manner. It had always been very difficult for Jeannine to express her feelings in a way that didn't come off sounding overly critical, and she was obviously making a tremendous effort.

They had stopped walking, and Claire put her arms around her mother. "Thank you, Mom," was all she could think of to say.

It we the first truly tender moment mother and daughter had shared since. Claire thought back for a moment. Probably since she had graduated from law school 4 years earlier.

When they released each other, both women had to wipe tears from their eyes.

"Now tell me about this man of yours," said Jeannine, chuckling slightly at the absurdity of the two of them standing in the middle of the Macy's home fashion department with tears in their eyes.

"He's wonderful, Mom," Claire began. "Looking back, I think I was attracted to him from the day we started working together. But I was wary because of what had happened with Joel, and so I fought it. I told myself he had a reputation...that he was a womaniser and I would end up hurt in the end if I let myself fall for him.

"At first I was put off by his relaxed attitude. Working with him is so different from working with Ben Stone. But the more we worked together, his brilliance as a lawyer began to draw me in, and I began to find his easy going ways pleasant and appealing, because they denote a sense of comfortableness with himself that is very attractive. I grew quickly to admire and respect his abilities in the courtroom. I'll never forget the first time I saw him give a closing argument to a jury. He has this almost magical way of drawing a jury to him. He gives off this aura that mesmerises them. It's amazing how attractive a man who does his job brilliantly can be.

"That was the first thing, even though I hadn't admitted to myself yet. And then it was the little things. The way he would let me argue with him, as Ben never would, for instance. Or how his hair is always just a little bit disheveled, or the way he'd touch me lightly on the arm or shoulder to make a point. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I'd catch him just looking at me, a small smile on his lips, and his eyes crinkling at the corners as they do.

"I don't remember at what point I stared dreaming about him, but I did. It was incredibly disconcerting at first. Then I decided it was because we spent so much time together at work."

"What was it that happened that finally brought the two of you together?"

"It was this Gordon case, actually," said Claire. "Jack and I had a number of difficult, high-profile cases when the case was brought to us for prosecution. Jack wondered who we should give the case to. Adam thought it would benefit me to be taken off a few of Jack's cases so that I might 1st Chair the Gordon trial, assuming he didn't cop a plea. Jack was against it, and after the meeting, I ripped into him in the elevator. He kissed me then, and even through all the confusion at my reaction to him, and the anger at him for what he had said in Adam's office, I found myself responding. I knew that it had never felt so right to be in a man's arms before. He left me in the elevator, but I was so flabbergasted by the kiss and my response to him, that I didn't go after him.

"That's when I realised that despite my intentions to the contrary, I had fallen for him. I still can't pinpoint exactly when it happened. The next day, he came to me, saying it would be best if we confined our relationship to the professional level."

At this point, Claire stopped for a moment, and laughed slightly. "Oh my God, I was beside myself! Working together was excruciating for about a week, and then we sent one of our high-profile cases to the jury. I don't know what it was....maybe I was emboldened by the passion he had displayed in his closing argument.....but I asked him to dinner.

"So that's how it started," Claire finished.

"I was worried at first that maybe you were sleeping with him out of some sort of misguided feeling of gratitude for saving your life. Or that he had seduced you when you were vulnerable," said her mother.

"Mom..." Claire hesitated for a moment. Should she tell her this? She was hoping they had come to some sort of silent understanding since that morning, and that from then on they could be friends as well as mother and daughter, so she decided to start acting that way. "We made love before Gordon attacked me."

"Oh." Jeannine wasn't sure she wanted to be hearing these things from her daughter...but this was the most open they had ever been with one another...and she rather liked it. "Tell me a little about Jack."

"He gives off this incredibly relaxed, easy-going energy, and his is very relaxed, there's now doubt about that. He also works harder and puts in more hours than just about anyone in our office."

"You've told me about the 'at-work-Jack'. I want to know about the Jack you see outside of the office."

"It all goes together," she explained. "But I know what you're after. He's this weird combination of strength and vulnerability. He was so protective of me after what happened with Gordon. He was strong and nurturing, which was just what I needed him to be. He makes me feel so safe. He's so...sure of himself...most of the time, anyway.

"The reason I said earlier that I don't think he's going to hurt me is because it's him who is so afraid of getting hurt by me. I can see it in his eyes sometimes...it's like he wants me to stay, but keeps expecting me to walk out on him...because everyone else has.

"I told you he had some emotional issues surrounding his childhood, and I believe al his demons stem from this. He never received the kind of love and affection he needed as a child, because his father physically abused his mother, and though he hasn't said anything...I suspect Jack was also abused by his father. So for most of his life, Jack has been pushing people away before they get close enough to hurt him. . . because he has learned to expect everyone will hurt him.

"In spite of all of this, he's letting me in...letting me get close. And I have to say, I would like nothing better than to be the one who shows Jack that not everyone wants to or will hurt him...that not everyone leaves.

"As traumatic as Gordon attacking me was, in a way, I'm glad it happened --God that sounds sick!-- because it's brought Jack and I closer than we would have been at this point had it not happened."

Jeannine thought for a few moments after Claire stopped speaking, taking it all in. It was evident her daughter cared deeply for this man. It was also evident that he made her happy, because everything about her seemed to light up when she talked about him. Anyone who could do that to her daughter, had to be alright in her book.

Taking her daughter's hand, Jeannine said, "Claire...I know this is going to sound strange coming from me...but if Jack makes you as happy as I can tell he does....he's alright in my opinion. I honestly hope things work out for the two of you. I've never seen you this animated when talking about someone you were involved with....and it does my heart good to see it. I'm looking forward to meeting the man who has done that to you."

*****

Claire met Liz Olivet for lunch at 1:00 pm the following afternoon.

They ordered their food and talked about everyday things such as the horrors of Christmas shopping, some of the cases on which Liz was consulting for the DA's office at the moments, and noteworthy items in the news.

In between the clearing of their salad plates, and the arrival of their lunch entrees, Liz focused the conversation on the reason for their lunch date: Claire's handling of the Gordon situation.

"Claire," said Liz, "as interesting as our conversation has been thus far....you didn't invite me to lunch to discuss current events, or standing on line during the holiday season."

"No, you're right, I didn't," Claire admitted.

"So what's wrong, Claire?"

"It's the Gordon thing."

"I figured as much," said Liz. "What specifically about it."

"Ever since it happened....the attack, I mean...whenever I go to sleep, I have these nightmares. I dream it's happening again, only worse. Most of them start with the attack the way I remember it. Where they get bad is when Jack comes to save me," Claire took a deep breath. "Most of the time he comes....but Gordon has a gun or some other weapon, and he kills Jack. Sometimes Jack doesn't come at all, and Gordon does as he pleases," pausing again, she shuddered.

Taking a sip of water, Claire continued. "I usually wake up before anything too awful happens...but the dreams last long enough that I know he's going to kill me.

"I thought the dreams would go away when Gordon was caught....thought they were just my mind's way of expressing whatever fears I had of him coming after me again. But since he's been caught, I've had the two worst dreams yet." Claire related the dream in which her mother had set her up on a date with Gordon, and in which Jack had turned his back on her. "And then last night....Last night it was Gordon coming after me again," She shuddered again, obviously very distressed at the memory of her dream. "But, in the end...I couldn't see his face for a while, he was wearing a mask. When he took it off, it wasn't Gordon anymore....but Jack."

Claire looked down at the table cloth.

"Claire," said Liz, "This may not be what you want to hear...but the dreams, they go away...and they are a perfectly normal response to the trauma you've been through. When you're awake, you can distract yourself with work, friends, family, etc. But you can't hide from yourself while you're asleep. Sometimes dreams are the subconscious' way of reminding us that we have unresolved feelings we need to deal with."

"I don't know what it is, Liz," said Claire, looking across the table at her. "I think...maybe....maybe I feel ridiculous for letting this affect me as much as it does, when the fact of the matter is, nothing really happened to me. I came out of it with nothing more serious than a bloody nose... meanwhile, the next woman ended up brutally attacked, raped, and left under a bush in Central Park. I don't know why I can't get pass this."

"Maybe the problem is that you're expecting to get over this too quickly and easily. You don't get to snap your fingers and make this go away, Claire. You were lucky you were able to escape being attacked.....it COULD have been you under that bush. But the fact that you escaped doesn't make the danger you were in at the time any less real...or your fears any less warranted.

"You have to forgive yourself for having been afraid...anyone would have in your situation...and for whatever thoughts of retribution you might be having. Allow yourself to feel fear, Claire," Liz advised. "allow yourself to feel hurt, abused angry. Allow yourself to hate, and experience whatever other emotions this thing dredges up. Only by facing and dealing with your emotions will you heal...because if you don't...this thing just might destroy you."

They stopped speaking for a time when the waiter brought their meal. When he had left, Claire said, "You see a lot, Liz."

"More than you might think, Claire."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm still waiting for you to tell me the part you're holding back."

"What part?" Claire queried, having no clue what Liz could mean.

"The part about you and Jack."

Claire opened her mouth to deny it, but, looking up into Liz's eyes and remembering the pain she'd caused Jack by refusing to tell her mother about their relationship, she simply asked, "Is it that obvious?"

"No, it's not, Claire," said Liz. "Remember that I'm trained to see the things people don't want me to see. I could hear it in the way you described your dreams. Aside from your fear of Gordon, the thing that stands out the most is the distress caused by Jack's death, and his becoming the one trying to hurt you."

"Oh."

"Besides," continued Liz. "Jack is the one who came and asked me to talk to you in the first place. I saw in his eyes and heard in his voice his concern for you. It was obvious to me that he cares more deeply for you than one would a mere co-worker."

"Jack asked you to talk to me?"

Liz nodded. "He felt it might benefit you to talk to someone who had suffered through something similar to what happened, or nearly happened, to you. I'm sure my profession had something to do with his asking me to talk to you. Don't be upset with him for coming to me...he obviously did it out of concern for you."

"No...no, I'm not upset he spoke to you."

"Have you mentioned these dreams of yours to him?

"No....you're the only person I've told."

"You should tell him, Claire. It's not a sign of weakness to ask for help when you're hurting, or recovering from a traumatic experience."

"I know, Liz....and it's not that I have trouble expressing my feelings --well, sometimes I do-- it's just, I don't want to over burden him with my problems so early into our relationship. I don't want to drive him away because I appear too needy."

"The fastest way to drive a man like Jack McCoy away is to conceal things from him. Especially if it's obvious you're holding out on him. And it must be, or he wouldn't have come to me," said Liz. "He needs to know you trust him with the bad stuff, as well as with the good."

"I hadn't thought about it in those terms before, Liz," Claire said thoughtfully.

"Be straight with him, Claire. Give him the chance to be there for you. If not for your own peace of mind, then at least do it for your relationship. He may not be able to understand what you're going through --no one can, unless they've been through something similar-- but he can empathise. And if he cares about you as much as I think he does, he'll be there for you in whatever capacity you need him to."

They conferred thusly for the remainder of the meal. When they were done eating, Claire picked up the tab for their lunch, and thanked Liz for her help. Liz offered herself as a sounding board anytime Claire felt she needed one, and they parted.

Claire left the restaurant and returned to her mother's, feeling much more lucid than she had since first being assigned the Gordon case.

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