by Drakkenfyre
Warning: Rated R
The sun had set two hours when he heard
the engine draw close then stop. There were a thousand like it, yet
he knew it was hers. Jack McCoy looked up from his scotch for only
the brief moment that it took for him to witness her enter the pub with
the usual finesse.
His heart rose at the knowledge
that she was well, but he was saddened to see her, since every one of her
mysterious visits was marked with pain.
She approached him, motorcycle
helmet in hand, and smiled. He met her eyes and said, "Hello, Old
Man." It was a reference to the Hemingway novel, "The Old Man and
the Sea", in which the old fisherman suffers, but maintains his dignity.
Jack always thought of her when he saw that book on his shelf.
"You look well, Jack," Anna
replied from her full and bright lips; the ones that he recalled tasted
so wonderful that autumn.
He raised his eyebrows and asked, "What are you
doing here? I thought you were in Albany these days, defending some
two-bit slime who groped a chambermaid at a convention."
Her eyes betrayed the hurt at
this comment. She said, "Everyone is entitled to an effective defense.
I know you don't agree with what I do, but we can't all be perfect like
you."
It was Jack's turn to be hurt
by her words. They weren't usually like this. He thought back
to the time at her cabin in Canada. They sat around the campfire
and roasted marshmallows and talked about whatever they felt like until
dawn. It was the nights like that which made him tolerate their disagreements.
He took stock in the fact that their caring ran far deeper than their anger.
She walked around to the other
side of him and sat in the next stool, limping slightly like she had a
blister in her riding boots. She always limped a little, but it was
worse when she was either very active or sitting for a long time.
"Did you just get here from
Albany?" he asked.
She nodded, then added, "I tried
your place first, then I thought I'd check here."
"So why did you come down?"
"Well, you know the Jenkins
kidnapping/rape case? He used to work for us and... I appropriated
his file from HR. This is only a copy, but you will find this interesting
enough to get a subpoena. And I missed you, Jack."
He rose to his full height and
said, "Let's get out of here, Anna."
They nimbly darted through the
light traffic on the way to his house. She was the more daring rider;
so much so that he worried. She took a left so hard that, despite
the incredible lean angle, she nearly hit the curb. Her back tire
slid slightly and rose a thin powder of dirt from the gutter. Jack
shook his head and remembered that she really had no fear, at least not
in the conventional sense. There was a disturbing history that led
to this, but he decided not to replay it this evening.
When they arrived at his house,
he poured them both drinks and returned to his living room. Though
she was sitting on his couch, he took the safe route and fell back into
his armchair. She sighed and asked, "Whatever happened to us, Jack?"
He lowered his head and answered,
"I don't know, Anna; I really don't."
She stood and walked over to
his bookshelf, to the place where he kept the 4x6 that she took at her
cabin. She had set the old SLR camera's timer and run into his arms,
just in time to capture these seconds of happiness.
Jack went to where she stood
and put his arms around her shoulders. She rested her cheek, wet
with tears, against his arm.
"Come to bed, Anna. It's
been a long night."
He grasped her hand and gently
led her to the bedroom. Once there, he knelt in front of her and,
with care, removed her socks. It seemed that she could not bring
herself to look at him.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I'm afraid that if I look at
you, I'll admit to myself that I still love you. And if I still love
you, I'm afraid I won't be able to resist you... and we'll do something
we'll regret."
At that he rose and kissed her
gently, first on the cheek, then on the lips, softly, while unbuttoning
her shirt.
"There's nothing we could do
that I would ever regret. You know that, Anna." He added in
a whisper, "My love."
He felt her breathe deeply in
his arms and let so much of the tension slip away. She tentatively
brought her tongue out to play on his lips and he released a desirous moan.
She took this as permission to re-acquaint herself with his body.
With dexterous movements she unbuttoned his shirt, starting from the top
and revealing more of his chest with each flick of her fingers. It
had been too long, but she was still pleased with the shape he kept himself
in. When she circumscribed the borders of his ear with nibbles, he
pulled her hips close before lowering her onto the bed.
In the morning, he awoke to find her already gone, the sound of her motorcycle speeding away having blended into a dream. His heart fell, but he supposed that he expected her to leave him again. Jack then whispered in a sigh, "Happiness is fleeting, after all..."