She glanced at her clock...it was later than she usually slept, not quite 9 o'clock, but she and Jack had been up rather late, and, truth be told, she'd had so much on her mind lately, that she hadn't been sleeping very much. She smiled, thinking about what had transpired between herself and Jack the night before; smiled at the thought of what was yet to come. By the time they had ceased their pleasurable yet torturous foreplay, they had both been so aroused she marveled now at their ability to stop.
She went to her dresser, and pulled out her sweat suit, undergarments, and a pair of socks, then crossed to her closet and retrieved a pair of running shoes. She entered the bathroom, and began to prepare for the jog she took every morning she had off, weather permitting. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was pulling her hair into a ponytail. Jack was still asleep, and Lucy had settled herself into the portion of the bed that Claire had so lately exited.
Before leaving, Claire wrote Jack a note. "Good Morning!" it read, "I've gone jogging. I'll be back soon. Make coffee if you like. I'll bring back bagels. --Claire." She placed the note on the nightstand by her bed. She put some money and her keys in her fanny-pack and headed out.
She didn't jog very far: she was one of those people whose mind wandered whenever she executed any form of solitary physical exercise, and her mind quickly strayed toward Jack. She was incapable of stopping herself from mentally re-living every aspect of the previous evening, and found that she wanted to be near Jack again. The jog wasn't, as she had though it might, helping to relieve any of the built-up tension from her "everything-but" encounter with Jack, so she turned, and headed for home, stopping first at a drug store.
She discovered upon re-entering her apartment that she'd been gone for about an hour. She could hear the coffee brewing in the kitchen, and knew Jack was awake. She walked into the kitchen, and it was empty, so she went to the bedroom. From her bathroom, she could hear the sound of running water -- Jack was in the shower.
Claire removed her fanny-pack, taking the little brown-bagged package from the drug store out of it as she did so. She returned her shoes to the closet, and walked through the open door of the bathroom, calling, "Jack, I'm home!" She set the paper bag on the vanity, and walked by the shower, on her way to the dirty-clothes hamper in the corner.
As she walked by the shower, Jack opened the door, and grabbed her arm, pulling her into a water-laden embrace. He gently pulled the scrunchie out of her hair. "Good morning," he smiled.
"'Morning," she replied before he kissed her.
"Jack!" she protested when he didn't release her right away. "You're drenching me!"
"Not yet, I'm not," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her as he picked her up and tried to pull her into the shower with him.
"Jack! Put me down!" she laughed, struggling to free herself. "Let me get my clothes off, at least!"
He set her down and unzipped her sweatshirt. She pulled away from him, smiling, and removed the rest of her clothes slowly, Jack watching in obvious appreciation. For the first time, she got a view of Jack completely naked, his desire for her plain. "He's beautiful," she thought to herself, noting the slim waist that tapered down into his manly hips. His chest was, indeed, smooth. He was remarkably free of excess body hair, except for the line of hair that trailed down from his navel and intercepted the top of his "man's hair".
When she was as naked as he, she didn't bother putting the clothes in the hamper, choosing, instead, to join Jack quickly, pulling the shower door closed behind her. Jack leaned against the wall for a moment, as she stood under the shower-head, letting the water cascade over her.
She reached for the shampoo, but Jack beat her to it, saying, "Let me." She complied, watching him pour the thick, white liquid into his hand.
"Turn around," he told her, "And tilt your head back a little."
He rubbed his hands together, and then they were on her head, working the shampoo into a rich lather as he massaged her scalp. Turning her around again, he moved in closer, placing a hand on her back, and tilted her head toward the water, to rinse out the suds. He repeated the process with her conditioner.
When he was done, she stood on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "That was nice," she said. "Do you want me to do yours, now?"
"I already washed it, just before you came in."
"Well then," she grinned mischievously, turning her back to him once again, "You can do my back for me."
He wrapped his arms around her, running his hands over her stomach. "Only if you let me do the front, too," he whispered suggestively in her ear.
"Deal," she breathed.
* * * * *
Eventually, they exited the shower. She put on her short terry-cloth robe and handed Jack two towels: one for his waist, and one for his hair. He toweled his hair off quickly, so that it was no longer dripping, and then went to work on her hair. When he'd toweled it off sufficiently, he picked her brush up from the vanity, and gently brushed out her hair.
"Sooooo," he said, "About those bagels...."
Claire's hand flew to her forehead. "Aw, shit!" she exclaimed. "I forgot about the bagels. Sorry."
Jack chuckled at her vulgarity. "So. What's in the paper bag, then, eh?"
"Just a little something I picked up," she said, deliberately evasive.
He reached for it, but she snatched it away, holding it behind her back, her eyes daring him to come and get it. He advanced toward her, smiling, intent on discovery.
"Show me," he said.
"I will," she replied, "when you catch me!" With that, she ran from the bathroom.
He caught her in the hallway, Lucy hissing in the corner at the ruckus. They were both laughing. He picked her up and carried her back into the bedroom, like a sack of potatoes. He dumped her on the bed, and she tried to turn over and scramble away, but he had hold of her leg, and prevented her escape. Her robe had come open, and he straddled her, pinning her arms above her head, bag still in hand.
"You don't put up much of a fight, do you, Kincaid?"
"Not when I'm trying to get caught."
He raised his eyebrows at her, and leaned in for a kiss. She was sufficiently distracted, and he took the opportunity to wrest the bag from her hand. He sat back and opened the bag, peering in. His face broke into a huge grin, and he raised his eyebrows at her again.
"Well," she explained wickedly, "I was thinking about last night when I was jogging, and I decided I wasn't letting you out of here until you finished what you started."
"I love the way your mind works," he told her.
"So," she began, reaching up to remove the towel from around his waist, "What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?" With that, she reached up and pulled his head to hers, kissing him softly, then gently bit his bottom lip.
"That'll do," he told her, pressing the entire length of his body against hers, loving the feel of her lean, naked body against his own.
He ran his hands over her shoulders, and down her arms, murmuring, "Your skin........like silk," as his lips brushed against the hollow at the base of her neck.
"When you touch me," she whispered hotly in his ear, "I burn."
It was time: they'd both had enough of the foreplay, and their need for each other was great. He rolled away from her for a moment, and then, precautions taken, rolled to his side and pulled her to him. Claire rotated to her back, drawing Jack with her. With no further preliminary, he was about to enter her, when a thought crossed his mind: he wanted to watch her as they made love for the first time, see her beautiful face overcome with passion, and see her desire for him in her deep brown eyes. Abruptly, he rolled them over, so that she was on top of him. She put a hand on either side of his head, and leaned down to kiss him. After a moment, Claire tore her head away, one hand still by Jack's head for support, and reached down between them, never breaking eye contact, and guided him into her, gasping at the new sensation.
Jack groaned and gripped her waist. She felt wonderful to him. Their union was electric, and it felt so right.
She began to move slowly up and down, looking into Jack's eyes, adoring the power felt by knowing oneself to be giving another pleasure: reveling in the idea of two bodies united in passion and two souls being joined together in growing love.
Jack ran his hands over Claire's sleek back, alternating between deep rubs, and light feathery strokes. He ran them up and cupped her shoulders, his forearms flat against her back. Claire leaned forward, face close to Jack's, and he could feel the warm breath coming through her parted lips, and blowing onto his own. He reached around and cupped her face in his hands, pushing her hair back, so that he had an unobstructed view of her very expressive eyes. Holding her face, he reached up and kissed her, hard.
Her slow movement was driving him wild, and after a few blissful moments, he could no longer bear the sweet torture, and rolled her beneath him. Claire gasped as his full weight settled on her, but loved the feel of Jack's sleek, surprisingly hard body against her own, soft and supple. He kissed her face and she wrapped her arms around him as he began to move, slowly first, and then with a pace that grew more rapid as he continued.
Both Jack and Claire closed their eyes then, and abandoned themselves to their lovemaking. After a few moments, Jack propped himself up a little, and opened his eyes. Claire's eyes were still closed, back arched, head thrown back, revealing her long, beautiful neck. She was lightly biting her lower lip, straining to keep up with Jack's increasing pace. It was the sexiest sight Jack had ever seen, and he wanted to tell her, but his breath was coming too hard and short to permit speech. He leaned in close, kissed her lips, then settled his head on her shoulder, kissing her neck as he drove them both higher and higher, until finally, they slipped into waves of intense pleasure.
When it was over, and Claire was able to think again, she wrapped her arms around Jack, who had collapsed on top of her. They were both still breathing very hard when he rolled off her, pulling her with him, so that they were lying face to face, smiling, languidly stroking each others slick bodies.
"You're incredible, Claire." whispered Jack, when he was finally able to speak.
"Jack....that was wonderful.," she replied.
They moved closer to each other, bodies touching, and their light caressing turned into a more serious exploration. Claire kissed Jack's forehead, then the tip of his nose, then turned her head slightly, and touched her lips to his. She was pressing hard, running her tongue along his lips, and so he opened them, hugging her close as their tongues touched softly.
"What took us so long, Jack?" Claire wondered aloud.
"I don't know, Claire," he smiled, "But we're sure going to have fun making up for lost time."
Claire was beginning to lose the spent feeling she experienced just after making love. It was replaced by the desire to start again with Jack, taking time to touch, tease, taste, tickle, and otherwise explore each other's bodies. It was as if they were trying to memorise every minute detail of the other's face and form.
Eventually, this light, languid exploration turned into something more impassioned, more intense. They made love again, both eager to possess one another.
Jack told Claire over and over how beautiful, how wonderful, how sexy she was as he slowly made love to her.
"Jack....oh, Jack" cried Claire in a throaty, breathless voice. "Jack....you feel so good."
When they were finished, they lay quietly kissing for a long time. After some time, Jack's stomach grumbled with hunger.
Claire laughed. "You're an endless stream of appetites to be satisfied Jack," she said gently mocking him.
"Damn right."
"C'mon, let's go into the kitchen. I'll find something to feed you."
They got up from the bed. Claire walked to her closet and pulled out a satin robe. When she turned around, Jack was putting his jeans back on. Shirtless, he walked to Claire and enveloped her in an embrace. His hands gripped her still damp hair as he tilted her head back, leaning down to kiss her once. She broke away from him, and grabbing his hand, led him down the hall and into the kitchen.
Jack sat down at the table and watched Claire go to work. She turned the oven knob to on, pulled out a couple of bowls and some utensils, and removed the carton of eggs, some mushrooms, Swiss cheese, and milk from the refrigerator. She retrieved the biscuit mix from the cupboard, quickly mixed up a batch, and within a matter of minutes they were in the oven.
"Pour yourself some coffee, if you like, Jack."
"Thank you, I will," he replied, standing up and moving to the coffee pot. From the cupboard he removed two coffee cups, and filled them both with the hot brown liquid. He fixed hers he way he knew she liked it, and moved up behind her, as she beat the eggs and mushrooms in a bowl.
"I fixed yours for you," he told her, bring the cup carefully in front of her.
She turned to him, kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you," she said, taking the cup from his hands, and gingerly taking a sip. She turned again and set the cup down on the counter. Before returning to his own cup, which he had set on the table, he moved up behind Claire, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her neck softly, hugging her tightly. She smiled and brought her hand up to rest on his head. Smiling, he squeezed harder for a moment, before letting go, and sitting back down at the table.
Claire returned to the food, scrambling a mixture of eggs and mushrooms. Mid way through, the biscuits were done, and Jack, wanting to be helpful, told Claire to keep tending to the eggs, that he would take the biscuits out of the oven. This done, and with some verbal assistance from Claire, Jack was able to set the table.
In the meantime, Claire had just placed eggs on both plates, and topped them with a generous portion of the shredded Swiss cheese. She placed the biscuits in a bread basket and placed them on the table.
"Juice? Or just coffee? " Claire inquired.
"Coffee's fine," replied Jack., maneuvering the chairs and plates so that Claire would be sitting closer to him when she sat down.
When Claire sat down, she reached into the basket and brought out one of the fresh, hot biscuits. Breaking it in half, she buttered each side before adding jam. When she was done, Jack did the same.
Jack took a large bite out of his biscuit, and his eyes lit up. When he had swallowed, he said, "Claire, these are delicious."
"Thank Bisquick, Jack, not me," she laughed. "But I will take all the credit for the eggs."
Jack scooped a forkful of the egg and mushroom scramble into his mouth. "Incredible," he sighed, "You deserve the kudos."
They continued eating, which they did rather quickly, having worked up quite an appetite during their morning bouts of passion. While they ate, they discussed what they would do with their surprise 3-day weekend.
"Why don't we get up early tomorrow morning and drive out to East Hampton or Amagansett for the day?" asked Jack.
"That sounds like fun," said Claire. She finished her last bite (Jack had finished his a short time before her), and Jack detected a glimmer in her eyes as she asked, "What are we going to do today?"
"How quickly they forget," scolded Jack teasingly. "I'm taking you out for dinner and to the movies, remember?"
"That's tonight Jack," she reprimanded, voice low and seductive, "I was asking about today."
Jack pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, pulling Claire out of her chair and into his arms. This simple act of embracing was enough to ignite passion's fire within them again, and Jack's lips met Claire's in a frenzied kiss. "Don't worry," he said, voice husky, when they came up for air. "I'm sure we'll think of some way to spend our day."
He kissed her again, harder this time, and she met the ferocity of the kiss measure for measure. His hands slipped inside the front of her robe, which opened a little, but the belt held it fast. She felt his palms graze her breasts and sucked in air sharply.
"Jack.....the dishes," she moaned against his lips.
"Later," he whispered back, "We'll clean up later." He wrapped his arms around her and massaged her back with his palms, exulting in the feel of her warm, satin-clad body against his smooth, bare chest. She began backing out of the kitchen, pulling Jack along with her. They made their way, spinning slowly, and kissing all the way back into Claire's bedroom.
As they neared the bed, Jack stopped her, kissing her deeply for several moments before dropping to his knees in front of her, and tugging on the satin cord that held her robe together. It came open, but he didn't reach up and push it off her shoulders. Instead, Jack placed his hands on Claire's hips, and pulling her to him, kissed her navel. From there he moved upward, showering her torso with hot moist kisses. She brought her hands up and rested one on his shoulder while the other ran through his thick, soft hair.
Claire felt her legs growing weak beneath her as Jack continued his sweet assault of her person with his lips, and she sank slowly to her knees. Jack pulled her into another ardent kiss. Claire reached down and undid the buttons of Jack's Levi's, as he pushed the robe back off her shoulders. She let her arms fall to her sides, and her satin robe puddled to the floor. Claire pushed Jack's pants down over his hips as he lowered her gently to the large, thick rug that covered the wood floor by her bed. Removing his jeans quickly, Jack lay beside Claire, who rolled to face him. Her fingers traced his lips, and grabbing her wrist, he kissed her finger tips before sucking one of her fingers into his mouth. Claire couldn't get over how erotic such a simple act could seem, and she closed her eyes, allowing the feeling to wash over her. She pulled her hand away, and pressed her naked body against Jack's suggestively, nibbling on his ear. Jack took the hint and rolled to his back, pulling Claire on top of him . She was sitting back on his thighs, and leaned forward to kiss him, her hair falling over them, creating a dark, fragrant curtain.
"You're so warm," he murmured in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her, "so soft."
"Shhhhh," she commanded softly, preventing any further speech my drawing Jack in for a long, slow, incredibly passionate kiss.
So engrossed were they in each other that the phone rang 3 times before either of them noticed.
Jack stopped kissing her, and looked at her expectantly.
"The machine'll get it," she told him, leaning down to resume their fervent kiss.
They could hear her out-going message from the machine in the other room. "Hi, this is Claire Kincaid. I can't get to the phone right now, so leave your name and number and the time you called, and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks. Bye."
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
"Claire? Claire, are you home?" asked the male voice on the other end of the line. "Claire, it's Chet. It's about 12:15. I've got some bad news. Pongracic handed down her ruling today. The DNA is out."
"Jack, sorry," Claire apologised, lunging for her bedside phone as Chet continued talking.
"Parker then made a motion to dismiss, which..." Chet was saying, when Claire picked up the phone.
"Chet? Don't hang up. The machine will shut off in a sec."
Beeeeeeeeep.
"Claire?"
"I'm here, Chet," she told him. "What did Pongracic do with the motion to dismiss?"
"She dropped the charges, Claire."
"Dammit!" Claire cried. "All of 'em?"
"Not the assaulting an officer and resisting arrest," Chet told her, "but all the rest. There's a bail hearing this afternoon. I know Mr. Schiff gave you the day off, but I'd though you'd like to know."
"Chet, I'm coming into the office," she told him, mouthing "sorry!" to Jack, who shook his head as if to say "I understand."
"Claire, you don't have to," said Chet.
"Chet, I want the bail hearing, so I'm coming in."
"Very well," he replied. "Sorry to spoil your three-day weekend. See you in a while."
"I should be there in an hour or so," she told him, "maybe less. Bye."
"Jack....oh god....I'm sorry," she apologised. She was sitting on her feet on the floor. Jack had risen to a sitting position, and Claire was in front of him, facing him.
"Hey, don't sweat it Claire," he told her amicably, "you're forgetting that I not only understand this compulsion, but it's one I happen to share."
He reached out and caressed the side of her face, and she leaned forward, supporting herself on her knuckles, and kissed him. He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her onto his lap, so she sat facing him. Holding her head, he kissed her, soft and slow.
"I'm sorry we were interrupted, Jack."
"It's okay, Claire," he told her. "We have all the time in the world to pick up where we left off."
Claire kissed Jack for several moments.
Jack broke the kiss, saying, "C'mon Claire, go ahead and get ready for work."
"Alright," she said.
"And tell you what," Jack told her, "Just because I like you so much, I'll clean the kitchen while you get ready."
"Jack!" Claire gasped, "You're a doll."
"Anything for you, babe," he said, planting a chaste kiss on her lips.
Claire smiled. It was the first time Jack had used any sort of endearment with her. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him hard, before getting up and beginning the process of dressing for work. As she did so, Jack dressed and then made good on his offer to clean the kitchen. He also located the cat food and fed Lucy, who was meowing at his feet the entire time.
About twenty minutes later, Claire emerged in a black suit, hair pulled back in a bun.
"What a difference," teased Jack, wrapping his arms around her. "From scantily clad lover to well-dressed lawyer in less than thirty minutes."
He kissed her.
"What are you going to do today?" Claire asked him.
"Well, since I had planned on spending the day with you, and now that your presence is required at the office, I may as well go in, too. I'll go home and shave, change clothes, and come in."
Claire walked Jack to the door, and they kissed for several moments, desire still high in both.
"See you at the office," Jack whispered. One more quick kiss, and he was out the door.
After a few moments, Claire followed suit.
*****
When Jack arrived at the office at 2:00 that afternoon, he learned from Adam (who marveled inwardly at the devotion to the job exhibited by his two most favoured ADAs), that Claire had just left the office. She was on her way to visit the female officer Gordon had assaulted before heading to the courthouse for the upcoming bail hearing..
"What time is the hearing, Adam?" Jack inquired.
"4:30....By the way, Jack..." Adam began, "Why did you decide to come into the office today? I seem to recall having given you the day off."
"Decided I wanted to put some time in on one or two of my cases."
"Very well then, I'll let you get to it. Oh.....one more thing...if Claire comes back while I'm still here, tell her I'd like to speak with her." With that, Adam left Jack's office.
*****
It was 5:30 when Jack, sitting at his desk, saw Claire walk out of the elevator, heading for her desk. She looked more angry and frustrated than he had ever seen her. She turned into her cubicle, dropped her attaché case on her desk, and sat heavily in her chair, not bothering to remove her coat. Her elbows on the desk-top, she dropped her head into her hands.
Jack, standing up as she sat down, saw all of this, and knew the inevitable had happened. Without the rape and murder charges, there was no reason to keep Gordon locked up, pending trial for assaulting an officer. From Claire's demeanor, it was obvious Gordon's being released on bail had affected her on some personal level. Jack picked up his phone and pressed one of the buttons.
Claire's telephone buzzed with the inter-office call. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
"Kincaid," she said, with much less force than usual.
"Hey...." said Jack.
She looked up and he was standing behind his desk, smiling rather sadly at her.
"Hi," she replied.
"Bail?"
"Of course."
"Come into my office, Claire."
She dropped the receiver into the cradle and stood, removing her coat and hanging it on the rack.
By the time she reached Jack's office, he was at the door, holding it open for her. She walked by and he shut it. Claire sat herself in the Captain's chair by the door, and Jack moved to the couch. He sat leaning forward, arms resting on his knees, hands clasped before him.
"Tell me what happened," said Jack.
"You mean before or after I got cited for contempt?"
"You what?!?" asked Jack, incredulous.
"Judge Pongracic, in her infinite wisdom, fined me for contempt to the tune of $500."
"You're joking? YOU got fined for contempt at a BAIL hearing?
Claire nodded her head.
"Alright," said Jack. "Start from the beginning."
"It was ridiculous. I should have known better than to argue with Pongracic," said Claire. "It was normal enough to begin with: I asked for high bail, my argument being that assaulting another human being is horrible enough, but the crime is compounded when that person is a police officer. The police are charged with keeping us safe, and by attacking an officer, you are essentially attacking whatever is left of the fabric of safety that blankets our society. She set bail at $20,000. I took exception, she noted, but didn't change her mind. I reminded her that the DNA tests had proved that Gordon had committed the rapes and the murder. She reminded me that because of her ruling, none of that evidence means anything. I tried to appeal to her as a woman, saying 'As soon as this man hits the streets, no woman, Your Honour included, is safe. He committed 15 brutal robbery/rapes in the past 2 months, and those are just the ones we know of, and he's gotten away with it. He's not going to stop now when there are no longer any consequences to his actions.' She gave me a warning, but I was utterly incensed."
She paused here, stood up, and walked across the office, around Jack's desk. She stood staring out the window for several heart beats, before taking a deep breath, and continuing her narration.
"I went and visited the female officer today, Jack. She's not going to rejoin the force. I promised her I'd nail this son of a bitch, promised myself. And here I was, failing, because of the moronic rulings of an idiotic judge. I don't recall exactly what I said in the heat of the moment, but it was something that implied that Gordon's future crimes would weigh heavy on her head. That's when she fined me for contempt." She paused again, sucking in a slow, ragged breath. "This case should have been a slam dunk, Jack. Instead, one of the most vicious, prolific serial rapists in the history of this DAs office is gonna walk...and it's all my fault."
Jack stood and walked over to her, longing to put his arms around her and offer his support. Instead, he turned her to him, and, hands on her shoulders, said, "First of all, Claire....this is NOT your fault, understand? You got sand-bagged by a judge that sleeps with a copy of the 6th amendment. Despite this setback, we are not dropping the case. We'll draft an appeal on the evidentiary ruling, and keep the investigation open. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to have Gordon under surveillance when he hits the streets, when and if he makes bail." Jack sat in his chair, leaned back, and propped his feet on the desk. "Tell ya what," he continued, "Go get all the files on Gordon, and we'll start going over them, see if there's anything we've missed. Meanwhile, I'll call down to the 2-7 to see that Gordon's watched."
"Gordon's out," said Jack when Claire returned to his office with the Gordon files, Chet in tow. "Just made bail. They've got Profaci watching him. At the moment, Gordon's at his mother's place. So far, he doesn't know he's being followed. Briscoe and Logan will keep us updated on his movements."
"Great," said Claire, "As long as he's being watched."
"Let's just hope he does something stupid we can bust him on," said Chet.
*****
They worked together , pouring over the files for a couple of hours, ordering in Chinese, attempting to strategise, planning out the appeal.
"Claire, have you seen the file on the assaulted police officer?" asked Chet.
Claire looked through the files she had in front of her. "I don't have it here," she said, looking over at Jack quizzically. He shuffled through his stack and shook his head in the negative.
"I'll go check my desk," offered Chet.
"Okay," said Claire. "Wait, I know where it is. I took it with me when I went to visit her this afternoon. It must be down in my car. I'll go get it."
Jack nodded. Claire got up and walked out of the office, and both Jack and Chet watched her until she entered the elevator, and was out of their sight-line.
Chet and Jack resumed discussion of the case.
When Claire had been gone 15 minutes, Jack began to worry, then considered the possibility that she had stopped to chat with someone she'd run into on her way up.
At 20 minutes, Jack thought to himself, "Who would she be talking to at 8 pm Friday evening in the parking lot of the DAs office?"
Chet, too, was becoming worried. "What do you think is taking Claire so long?" he asked Jack.
"If she's not back in 5 minutes," Jack stated, "I'm going down to check on her."
When she'd been gone for nearly half an hour, Jack headed for the elevator, barely able to hide his panic from Chet. "Please God," begged Jack, afraid to voice more. The elevator ride down to the park level was perhaps the longest ride of Jack's life. He had no idea what to expect...didn't even want to entertain the possibility that something had happened to Claire.
When the elevator door slid open, Jack was confronted with a tableau that stopped the beating of his heart for several moments: Claire was still in the garage, but she was not alone. A man had her pinned against her the side of her car, and as Jack stepped out of the elevator, silently, he caught a glimpse of knife, gleaming in the false fluorescent light of the parking garage, dangerously close to Claire's throat. Jack nearly fainted. He had to think of something, and quick.
*****
When Claire had come out of the elevator , the parking garage had been nearly empty. Her car was there, parked next to Jack's motorcycle, near the wall. A car Claire knew to be Chet's was parked in one of the middle rows. There were 2 other cars on that level.
Claire walked to her car with purpose, and, as a veteran New Yorker, mindful of any danger, real or perceived. She opened up her car door, leaned across the driver seat and grabbed the file off the passenger side. She stood, smoothed out her skirt, and shut the door.
When she turned around, he had been standing in front of her.
"Your hair looks better down, Counselor," Alex Gordon snarled.
Claire was gripped with an uncontrollable fear. The look in Gordon's eyes was the same as when he had lunged across the table at her, hands stretching toward her throat.
"Gordon? What're you doing here?" Claire asked.
"You mean how did I manage to evade my shadow?" he asked derisively. "It wasn't very hard. If a smart lady like yourself couldn't keep me locked up, what good do you think a couple of dumb cops are gonna do?"
Claire's mind was whirling. She was frightened as hell, knowing she was alone with this man: this vicious brutaliser of women. The clear animus he had displayed toward her came rushing back, and she knew with a certainty that he had come here to do her severe harm, if not kill her.
"You shouldn't be here, Gordon," she said. "I'm still prosecuting you. It's unethical for me to be speaking to you."
Gordon smiled contemptuously. "You won't be prosecuting me for long, Ms Kincaid."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Your case is in the can, Kincaid.....I'm practically a free man."
Gordon took a step toward her, and Claire dropped the file in her arms. A picture of the face of the policewoman right after the assault fell out of the folder, and Gordon, noticing this, bent down swiftly and snatched it off the ground.
"Pretty good work, wouldn't you say?" he asked, advancing toward her menacingly, holding the picture in front of him.
"What...what do you want?" asked Claire, shaking internally. She tried backing away from him, but in less than a step, she was backed against her car and had no place left to go.
She was trapped. She knew it. And she could tell by the sneer on Gordon's face that he knew she knew it, as well. He liked that. She was no longer the no-nonsense prosecutor, no longer a woman with the resources to send him away for a very long time. She was a victim, powerless, completely at his mercy. He wondered if she had realised it yet.
"What do you want?" she repeated.
"Want?" Gordon asked, voice low. He was dressed all in black. He reached into his coat, but let his hand stay there. "What do you suppose I want?"
"I...I...don't know."
"I've come to teach you a lesson, you arrogant bitch, about when to keep your mouth shut."
"I don't think you understand, Mr. Gordon," said Claire, trying to reason with him, trying equally hard to maintain any semblance of composure she had remaining. "What I do...it's not personal. It's my job to put criminals in jail."
"Your job?" he seethed. "Is it your job to call me a monster and a sexual deviant in front of my mother?"
"I...I..." she stammered.
"What, no snappy come-back?"
"I ....think you'd better leave....before someone comes down and finds you here."
"I'm not worried about that," he told her, glancing around quickly. "And I'm not going anywhere...yet."
Claire made a motion to walk around him, and he placed his arm on the side of her car, blocking her escape. The hand that was in his coat was finally brought out again, and Claire had to suppress the urge to vomit when she saw the large, jagged-edged hunter's knife that was in it. The knife bore a remarkable resemblance to the one that was now in the DA's evidence locker.
"What....what are you gonna do?" Claire asked, visibly shaken. The more upset Claire got, the more menacing Gordon became. He liked the fear on her face, the tense body language she exhibited.
"I'm gonna start your instruction," he told her.
All of the sudden he rushed her, clamping one hand over her mouth, bringing the other, the knife wielding hand, close to her throat. She screamed beneath his hand, and he reached back and smacked her, hard. Hard enough that she felt the blood begin to trickle out of her nose.
"Shut up!!" he told her, a look of anger such as she had never seen in his eyes. He clamped his hand hard over her mouth again, shaking her head violently. "Shut the fuck up. Don't make another fucking sound, or I cut you...got that?"
Claire nodded, eyes wide with fear. She was wild with panic. She knew if she couldn't get away from this man, and soon, that she was likely going to die. She was totally unprepared for this attack. She had pepper spray, but it was upstairs in her purse, in Jack's office. She thought to fight back, but he had a knife, a large knife, to her throat. The slap that had bloodied her nose had also left her slightly dazed. She could feel the cold steel of the blade against her skin, not pressing hard, just enough so that she could never forget it was there.
"Jack...oh God, Jack..." she thought. They had just found each other, and now it was all going to be over, unless she could think of some way to escape. "Somebody....help me" she prayed inwardly, to she knew not whom.
She didn't hear the elevator open, didn't see Jack emerge from within.
"Know what I'm gonna do to you?" Gordon was asking as Jack silently approached from behind, still unseen by Claire, who shook her head. "I'm gonna cut up that pretty face of yours," he said, voice dripping with false sweetness.
Jack winced, knowing the fear that must be running through Claire's mind. He felt ill, but his need to protect Claire overcame the feeling, and he advanced, slowly, knowing the element of surprise was his only chance.
"And then," Gordon continued, lowering the knife to slice open the top button of Claire's silk blouse, "I'm gonna fuck the arrogance out of you, you bitch."
It was then that Claire saw Jack, and she sent a silent plea to him with her big brown eyes. Gordon saw the recognition on Claire's face, grabbed her, thrusting her in front of him as he turned to face his unknown would-be assailant, pressing the blade of the knife into Claire's throat. If he pressed any harder, she was certain he would draw blood.
"Back off!!!" Gordon yelled, stopping Jack dead in his tracks. "Back the fuck up or I slice her throat right here!!!"
"Let her go, Gordon," said Jack, who had never seen Gordon in person, but had seen his face on TV and in the newspapers. "This isn't going to do you any good."
"Shut up!" yelled Gordon, panic setting in. Jack was waiting for the right time. Gordon was obviously unstable to begin with, but as panic set in, Jack knew that this type of man became even more dangerous and irrational. He fought hard to control himself, not wanting to do anything to further jeopardise Claire, who was at the mercy of a madman.
"You don't want to do this, Gordon," Jack said. "You saw how upset Detectives Briscoe and Logan got when you injured that rookie policewoman. And they'd never met her before that day. Think what they would do if you hurt someone they work with on a regular basis. Let her go, Gordon, before you get yourself into more trouble."
"SHUT UP!!! I told you to shut up!" he hollered, pulling Claire tighter to him. "This bitch ruined my life, and now she's gonna pay for it." His words were big, but Jack could tell he was losing some of his nerve. He was glancing around wildly, panic reaching a fevered pitch.
"Let her go," pleaded Jack again. "Let her go, or I swear to God, Briscoe and Logan will be the least of your worries. If you hurt her, I'll hunt you down like a dog, even if it takes the rest of my life, and deal with you myself. And you won't be looking at any jail time."
Something about what Jack was saying seemed to register with Gordon. He had gone too far to go back, but it dawned on him that if he harmed this woman, he would never be safe again. The man in front of him, he could tell by the look in his eye, would make good on his promise.
Gordon shoved Claire at Jack, and ran. Jack would have given chase, but Claire's knees buckled beneath her, and he rushed forward to catch her, to hold her, to comfort her, and himself.
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