"Jack?" she whispered.
"Hmmm?"
"You awake?"
"Mmmhmm, just barely."
She snuggled closer. "Good."
He repositioned himself to face her, and she brought her hand up to rest against his cheek.
"How long have you been awake?" he asked, running his hand along the curve of her side.
"Not long."
It was still fairly dark outside, but the very dim light of the early morning suffused the room, and they were able to see each other.
"C'mere," he said, pulling her in for a kiss. "Good morning," he whispered.
"'Morning," she replied, casting him a beaming smile.
"Beautiful," he thought, and so he told her.
"So are you, Jack."
"Me? No...."
"Mmmhmm, yes you are," she insisted, nestling her lips in the crook of his neck. "Especially first thing in the morning, before the worries of life and work take hold and put that wrinkle in your brow," she stopped for a moment and caressed his face, passing her thumbs over his forehead, and thick, dark eyebrows. "When your hair is all mussed, and you have this serene, languid, happy expression. It's incredibly sexy, Jack."
His response was to pull her into another deep kiss. But this was not just any kiss: no, this was the kind of kiss that any woman would sacrifice much for, but few are fortunate enough to experience more than once or twice in a lifetime. With his hands he began to search and stroke her body, leaving Claire fairly panting with the desire to possess and be possessed by him.
"Jack," she said breathlessly. "Jack...do we have enough time?"
"More than enough," he replied, grabbing her leg gently at the kneecap and dragging her silken thigh over his hip.
"Good," she said, tracing the length of Jack's spine lightly with her fingernails.
*****
Later, as they dressed, Jack tried to discuss with Claire some of the cases he wanted to work on that day, but it seemed as though she weren't really there with him. By the third time he asked her a question to which she responded, "Mmhmm,", he was sure her mind was else where.
"And then, after lunch," he said, "I figured we'd head on over to Adam's office and tell him that we're seeing each other.
"Mmm? Really? Okay...sounds good."
Jack walked to where she stood buttoning her blouse, took her by the shoulders and said "Earth to Claire...where are you, babe? I've been talking to you for the past ten minutes and you haven't heard a word I've said."
"I'm sorry, Jack...I've been thinking."
"Obviously....do you want to tell me what about?"
"Oh, just about how things are going to go today."
Jack took her by the hand, and walked to his bed. He sat her on the edge and knelt in front of her.
"You're worried about what's going to happen when the news makes it around the office?" she nodded. "Worried that by the end of the day you're going to be besieged by reporters?"
"All of that's true, but there's more to it than that."
"What more, Claire? Tell me, please."
"I'm wondering what it's going to be like for us at work now, after this weekend. It seems to me as though we've lived a lifetime since the Talbert jury came in. Everything is so different between us now...I feel so...I don't know, connected to you. Part of me is afraid we'll walk into the office, people will take one look at us, and they'll know. Not that would be such a terrible thing, only, I've already got so much else to deal with, I don't need our co-workers sniggering 'she's sleeping with the boss' under their breath whenever I walk by."
"We're not wearing neon signs, Claire....they won't be able tell."
"Yes, I know, but....they're going to be scrutinising me so closely because of the attack, I just worry that something will give us away."
"So what do you suggest we do? You yourself said you thought half of them already assume we're sleeping together."
Claire nodded.
"Anything else?" he asked her.
She hesitated a moment, then shook her head in the negative.
"What?" he asked.
"No...it's nothing."
"C'mon Claire...I think I know you a little better than that."
"No...it's foolish"
"Claire...tell me," he said, half plea, half command.
"I don't...I don't want to...the parking garage, Jack. I'm afraid of...no, it's not fear. Or maybe it is. It's going to be hard for me to go into the parking garage without re-living what happened."
Jack stood up and pulled Claire with him, taking her into his arms for reassurance. "It's going to be okay, Claire. I'll be right there with you. And if anything happens to you during the day today, you know just where to find me. I'll be whatever you need me to be."
Jack took Claire's face in his hands and searched for signs that his words had been of comfort to her. What he saw instead was that her eyes had filled with tears that were about to spill over
"Don't cry, babe...it'll ruin your make-up, and you'll have to do it over."
He hugged her again, and when neither of them moved to break the embrace, Jack said, "We should get going soon, or we're going to be late."
"Hold me a little longer," she pleaded.
Jack squeezed her tighter.
*****
Claire's day wasn't the calamity she had expected. News of her attack had not yet circulated through the office, or, if it had, everyone who knew was careful enough of Claire's feelings not to let on that they knew. The media was still in the dark, and Jack and Claire were both circumspect enough in their behaviour toward one another that no one seemed to catch on, or, if they had, again, they were sensible enough not to mention it. Even the parking garage had not caused Claire the anguish she had assumed it would: Jack had kept her so involved in a dialogue about one of their pending cases, even going so far as to draw her into a near-argument regarding several pieces of evidence and a witness statement, that she had all but forgotten where she was and what had happened to her there 3 days earlier. When they had entered the elevator, and Jack quickly changed the subject, Claire had figured out what he had been doing. She shook her head incredulously and smiled wryly at him, and he winked back at her.
As they worked on their cases that morning, there were many occasions, as there generally were, when Claire was standing next to Jack as he sat behind his desk. At one point, she leaned across him to grab a file that was on his other side, and without intending to, she casually brushed up against him, as she had done many times before...but this time, they were both instantly aware of each other's physical presence. She was close enough to him that he could smell a mixture of soap and her perfume on her, and his concentration was suddenly shot to hell. He sat back in his chair and looked at her, the strong line of her jaw, the mole just below the corner of her mouth...and then he reigned in his wandering mind.
"You're at work, McCoy," he told himself silently. To Claire he said, softly, a little strangled, "Claire...this is ridiculous, I know, but do you think you could sit across the desk from me?"
"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked, confused.
"Nothing...but you're distracting the hell out of me."
Claire smiled wickedly at him, walked around the desk, sat down and asked, "Is this better?"
"Much, thank you," he said.
They went back to work, and just before lunch, one of the clerks came in to Jack's office with a memo from Adam. He handed it to Jack, who was seated behind his desk. Claire sat in the chair on the other side of Jack's desk. They were deep in a discussion on the facts of a case for which they were due in court that afternoon when the clerk had come in.
When the clerk was gone, Jack, who had already read the short memo, said, "Looks like the Christmas party is going to be at the Waldorf-Astoria on the 16th, at 8 pm. It's formal, and no kids."
"The 16th? That's my birthday."
"Yes, I know."
"Formal, eh? Does that mean I finally get to see the oh-so-casual Jack McCoy in a tuxedo? Oooooh, I can't wait."
"Yep....it does. A gold lame one, a la Las Vegas lounge lizard."
Claire made a gagging sound and gesture, at which Jack laughed heartily.
"I suppose it wouldn't kill me to put on a monkey-suit for a few hours...seeing as how it will be your birthday, and the thought of it seems to please you so."
"And I'll have to find some time to go dress shopping."
"Can I help?"
"No way, buster...you'll have to wait until the 16th."
"Damn!! And I was having all these visions of upscale boutiques and their posh, private dressing rooms! Oh well..." he said, sighing in disappointment. He closed the case file in front of him and said, "C'mon, lets go grab a bite to eat before heading over to the courthouse."
*****
After hearing opening arguments from both sides that afternoon, the judge recessed until the next afternoon. When Jack and Claire returned to the office around 4:30, there was a message for Claire to page Lt. Van Buren as soon as she returned from court. Claire did so, and waited for Anita to call her. She was in Jack's office, and had the secretary patch the call through to her there.
Jack answered the phone, "Good afternoon, Lieutenant. Uh-huh....thank you.....yes, she's right here....hang on a moment."
Jack handed the receiver to Claire.
"Lieutenant?"
"Claire, we have some news regarding Gordon, but I'd rather not discuss it with you over the phone. Can you come down to the station? Or should Briscoe, Logan and I come there?"
"I'm open to either," replied Claire.
"Fine...we'll come to you. Five o'clock should give us time enough to get there. Is that good for you?"
"That's fine, Lieutenant. I'll see you then."
When Claire had hung up the phone, she breathed a heavy sigh.
"What is it?" Jack asked her.
"They've got some news for me, that they wanted to deliver in person. So Briscoe, Logan, and Van Buren are going to be here at 5."
Jack glanced at his watch, "I'm going to call Adam and let him know. I'm sure he'll want to be there. Why don't you go and call Chet, and let Moore and Michelson know?"
*****
"Is everyone ready?" asked Van Buren.
There were various nods and sounds of assent from around the table.
"Go ahead, Mike," Van Buren urged.
"I don't know if you guys saw this on the news or not, but a young woman, a grad student at NYU, disappeared outside of a bar not far from here on Friday night, not very long after your encounter with Gordon, Claire. Her friends said she had gone outside to get some more cash out of the ATM. She was somewhat intoxicated at the time, as they all were, and had refused the offer of one of her friends to go to the ATM machine with her. When she didn't come back, they went out to check on her, didn't see her anywhere, and figured she must have decided to go home, which she'd done before. They tried calling her all the next day, but no one could get hold of her. Her boyfriend hadn't heard from her since Friday afternoon, and neither had her parents, who live upstate. Later, one of her friends was able to find her roommate, who informed her that she had never come home the night before."
"So the friend calls to report her missing," continued Lennie. "Her friends were really worried, see, because she's never just disappeared before, and she's not the type to go home from a bar with someone, without letting her friends know first, no matter how much she's had to drink."
"I see where you're going with this," said Claire, who had gotten up from the table during Mike's speech and was now looking out the window, "You obviously think Gordon kidnapped this woman."
"There's more, Claire," Van Buren informed her.
Claire inclined her head indicating that she was ready to hear the rest.
"A young couple was walking through Central Park later that night. They decided to sit for a moment on a bench," continued Lennie. "After a few minutes, they heard a low moaning coming from the direction of the bushes behind them, and went to investigate. They found a young woman who had been stabbed repeatedly, and strangled. She had no identification on her. They called 911. Mike and I were the first detectives to arrive on the scene. The girl was in bad shape, but she was alive, barely."
"She was taken to the emergency room, and it was determined that she had been stabbed 13 times, and that she had been raped," said Mike. "Luckily, her attacker managed to miss her vital organs. She lost a lot of blood, and there's some damage to her wind-pipe from the strangling, but the doctors say she's going to recover. She was unconscious until early this morning. An ICU nurse called to let us know that she was awake, and despite the damage to her wind-pipe, able to speak, but only for short periods at a time. So Lennie and I headed over to see if we could get any information from her."
"And did you?" asked Adam.
"Yes...she's the girl who disappeared outside the bar Friday night, and it was Gordon who attacked her," said Lennie. "She told us he had been wearing a mask over his face, but that sometime during their struggle she had managed to rip it off of his head. I believe her words were, 'It was that guy....that guy from TV...the one they call the ATM rapist'. We showed her a picture of Gordon and she started to cry, 'That's him', she told us, 'That's him'."
Jack's stomach turned over. He knew how scared Claire must be right then, and he longed to go and comfort her. He also found himself thanking God once again that he had gone looking for her that night, because if he hadn't, it would have been Claire that couple found moaning in the bushes in Central Park.
"What now?" asked Chet.
"There's a little more," said Van Buren. "There was a car reported stolen in this neighbourhood, and a witness saw someone from a distance who seemed to fit Gordon's description..."
"Right," said Jack, "Adam told us about that."
"Well," said Van Buren, "At first we thought it was just a coincidence, but the victim described the car Gordon had transported her in, and it fit the description, and also, the back driver-side window was busted in, and there was glass all over the back seat. We put an APB out on the car. It was found abandoned late last night on the side of a highway just outside Bridgeport, Connecticut. It's been towed here, and forensics is running tests on it right now."
"So we can assume Gordon isn't in Manhattan anymore?" asked Claire. "Does this mean I don't need my armed escort anymore?"
"Not just yet, Claire," said Mike. "We don't know that Gordon hasn't come back into the city, or that he isn't on his way back here. I for one would feel much better if you'd keep your escort until Gordon is actually in custody."
Lennie and Van Buren nodded their agreement.
"I insist on it, Claire," said Adam.
"He's getting sloppy, Claire," Lennie told her, "It's only a matter of time before he does something really stupid and gets caught."
"And when he does," said Jack, "We're going to nail his ass to the wall."
*****
When the meeting was over, Mike, Lennie and Anita left the conference room. As everyone else got up to do the same, Liz Olivet said to all who were left in the room, "I'd like to talk to Claire alone for a few minutes."
"Meet me back in my office when you're done here," Jack said to Claire as everyone else left the room. Claire nodded and Jack shut the door behind him on his way out the door.
"What did you wish to speak to me about, Liz?" asked Claire.
"How're you doing, Claire? How're you holding up?"
"I'm fine, Liz.....Really."
"Claire, I'm here for you to talk to."
"Really, Liz, I'm okay. I'm angry that this bastard's at large, but emotionally, I'm solid."
Liz narrowed her eyes a little, taking in Claire's whole manner before saying, "Those are brave words, Claire....and they may satisfy your co-workers and Adam, but you forget I know what it's like to be a victim. But I can see you're not ready to discuss your feelings about this yet, and that's fine. It's normal, in fact. But I want you to know, whenever you're ready, I'm here. Either as a shrink, or as a friend."
"Thank you Liz, but really, I'm fine. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to work."
"Fine, but keep what I said in mind. Whenever you're ready."
"Thanks Liz," said Claire, "I'll keep it in mind."
When Claire was gone, Liz shook her head, and thought, "What a horrible defense mechanism denial is."
*****
"Oh, she just offered me her services if I feel I need someone to talk to."
"Are you going to take her up on it?"
"Why, do you think I need a shrink, Jack?" she asked, somewhat irritated.
"Need one? No...but it might be nice to have another woman to share your feelings with. And it seems to me Liz would be perfect for that, both because of her profession, and because she was raped a few years back."
"I'm fine, Jack...I think I'm handling all of this remarkably well."
"Too well," he thought to himself. To her, he said, a little more defensively than he had intended, "I never said you weren't, Claire."
"Jack...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just need to deal with this my own way, okay?"
"Got it," said Jack, raising his hands in defeat.
"What do you want to work on?" Claire asked, sitting across the desk from Jack.
He handed her a file, and they settled into work.
When an hour had gone by, they ordered sushi for dinner.
They worked through dinner. When the food was almost gone, both absentmindedly reached for the carton of California rolls. Their hands knocked into each other, sending one of Claire's chopsticks sailing through the air at Jack. It hit him in the chest and dropped into his lap.
He glared dubiously across the desk at her, and cocked an eyebrow. "Lose something?" he asked, and they burst into laughter.
"Can I have it back?" she asked, clutching her sides, which hurt from laughing so hard.
"Come get it," he dared, eyes twinkling mischievously.
She looked like she was seriously considering it, but he spared her and handed it over.
"Watch where you fling your chopsticks, lady," he warned. "Next time your not getting off so easy."
Smiling, Claire went back to reading the file in front of her.
A few minutes passed by, and Claire looked up. Jack was staring at her, and she recognised the gleam in his eye.
"Close your file Claire," he said, "Let's call it a day."
*****
Jack staring at her so openly was having a profound effect on Claire. She drove like hell the whole way back to his apartment, too distracted by what she saw in Jack's eyes to concentrate on the road like she should.
She couldn't get home fast enough for either of them, and they both silently breathed a sigh of relief that they had missed rush hour traffic.
* * * * *
Jack finally got the door to his apartment open, and pulled Claire roughly in after him, desire evident in his eyes. He dropped his briefcase and coat, took Claire's from her, dropped the attaché case next to his, and threw her coat over the back of the couch. One of the tenants on the floor above had been in the elevator, so they had ridden up silently, leering at each other from opposite sides of the elevator.
They moved closer together, and Jack relieved Claire of her suit coat as she worked on the buttons of his shirt. He popped the top two buttons on her blouse in his haste, but managed to undo the others with no further harm. He pulled her skirt up some, reached underneath, removed her underwear, then backed her slowly towards the wall.
She smiled marvelously at him, and he said, "You were torturing me today, know that?"
When her back was against the wall, he placed one of his hands, palm flat against the wall, just to the side of Claire's head. His other hand reached down, beneath her skirt, and started running slowly up the inside of her thigh.
"When you were standing next to my desk, leaning over me," he said, kissing her neck, "and I could smell you....it drove me wild. It took all of my restraint to keep from pulling you down onto my lap."
"We're not in the office any more Jack," she commented, inhaling sharply and rising to her toes when his hand finally reached its goal.
She reached out and unbuckled his belt, and pulled his fly apart. He reached for his wallet just before she pushed his jeans down, running her palms over his behind. He pressed against her, pulled up her skirt, and picked her up. Claire wrapped her legs around Jack's waist and he held the backs of her thighs for support. They kissed for the first time since before work that morning, and it was a kiss that shattered any restraint they had left. He entered her, and she pushed back at him for all she was worth.
It was over quickly, and Jack let Claire down gently. Claire's skirt slid back down her legs. Jack wrapped her in a warm hug, then kissed her softly.
"Wait here," he told her, pulling his pants up as he disappeared into the kitchen.
While he was gone, Claire kicked off her shoes, walked to the fireplace, stuck a dura-flame log in, turned the gas valve, and lit a fire. She walked to the sofa, and tossed the throw pillows onto the floor in front of the fireplace, along with the blankets that had been draped over the back of the couch and easy chair.
She sat down on the sofa and waited for Jack to return. When he did, he was carrying two glasses.
"Martinis, Jack?" she queried.
"Nothing like a good martini," he commented. "I don't know how good these are --I'm no mix-master-- but at least they're fit for consumption."
He sat next to her and handed her one of the glasses. She took a sip and said, "This is as good a martini as any I've ever had."
They drank in silence for a few minutes, until Jack said, looking at Claire's open blouse, "Sorry about your blouse, Claire."
She looked down at the empty spaces where her buttons had been, smiled and said, "Don't worry about it, Jack. I can sew just well enough to be able to repair a couple of buttons. Remind me to look for the buttons later."
Drinks finished, Jack took Claire's empty glass and set it on the coffee table. He stood up and drew Claire into his arms. He kissed her lightly. His arms went around her, and she felt him undo the button at the back of her skirt, then slide the zipper down. Her skirt puddled about her feet, and she stepped out of it, removing her damaged blouse, which still hung about her shoulders. Her bra, which Jack hadn't even bothered to unhook earlier, came next. As she did this, Jack removed his shoes and pants.
When they were completely undressed, Claire took Jack by the hand and led him to the pile of pillows and blankets she had laid out in front of the fire place. They lay down on top of the lighter-weight blanket, and covered themselves with the thick, warm, heavy one. Claire was closest to the fireplace, and she turned to face it. Jack lay behind her, molding his body to fit the curves of Claire's. He draped his arm over her and buried his face in her soft, thick hair. His hand began to roam aimlessly, pleasurably, maddeningly over her body, and she sighed deeply. She closed her eyes and exulted in the feeling of Jack's warm body next to her own. They lay like that for some time, quiet, and contented.
"Claire?" said Jack suddenly, tentatively, "I know you said you need to deal with this in your own way, but humour me, will you? I have to know what's going on in your head. We've been avoiding talking about the Gordon development. And I think we --or at least I-- need to discuss it."
"I don't want to talk about that right now, Jack. I just want to be here with you, and forget."
"You're going to have to deal with it eventually."
"I can't think about it now, Jack, because I keep having these horrible thoughts. I'm ashamed of them."
"Claire," he pleaded, "Tell me what they are. They can't be any worse than the ones I've been having."
"It's awful, I know, but I keep thinking, 'thank God you came for me', Jack, because if you hadn't, it would have been me laying in that bush in Central Park. It would have been me that had been raped and stabbed and strangled and lying in a hospital right now -- maybe even the morgue."
"There's nothing wrong with that, Claire. That's exactly what I thought when Van Buren, Briscoe and Logan were giving us the news."
"It's worse Jack...because I'm glad....I'm glad it was that poor girl and not me."
"Oh, Claire..." Jack said, feeling his chest constrict. "Come here," he whispered.
She turned to him, and he held her close. She began to cry, deep wracking sobs. Jack was beside himself, and could do nothing but hold her tight, and whisper words of gentle reassurance. Eventually, her tears subsided, and Jack used the edge of the blanket to dry her eyes.
"God that was cathartic," she said, feeling remarkably better. "Sorry about that," she sniffed, "I didn't mean to open the floodgates."
"Claire, I told you before...anything you need. And it seems that a good cry is just what you needed. I can see it helped. You don't look so...heavy... anymore."
"What did I do to deserve you, Jack?" she asked, but she meant it rhetorically.
"You'd better watch out Claire, that you don't end up regretting those words" he warned. He hadn't understood that her question had been rhetorical. "With me, you may just get a helluva lot more than you bargained for."
Claire shook her head. "Don't talk like that, Jack. No matter what happens in the future...I could never regret you."
He smiled at her and thought, "God I hope not!"
She turned her head and laid her cheek against Jack's chest, hugging him tighter to her. She felt his lips against her forehead, and tilted her head up. They kissed slowly, lovingly, hands lightly running over each other's bodies.
"I can't seem to get enough of you," he whispered against her neck.
With his words, something sedate broke in Claire, and she kissed him with a ferocity that astonished them both. What followed turned the night into one of the most intensely passionate of either of their lives. They made love repeatedly, until both were too physically and emotionally exhausted to continue.
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