Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything affiliated with Law and Order.
A/N: This is my first attempt at anything involving Jack McCoy and I can only hope I did his character justice. Please review and let me know what you thought - good or bad.
With heartfelt thanks to Gil Shalos1 for her comments and suggestions, as well as her brilliant stories featuring Jack McCoy which greatly inspired me to try writing him.
Kincaid wasn't a name heard around the DA's office very often. It was the kind of word that was whispered in the hallways, behind cupped hands, always with a nervous glance toward Jack McCoy's door. After all, no one wanted to be faced with his infamous temper. No one wanted to be the cause of his brow furrowing, his eye darkening, his door slamming, the blinds rattling horribly against the glass. No one wanted to be responsible for the gloom that would hang heavily over the entire floor for the rest of the week.
So Kincaid was only spoken of sparsely, in hushed tones, usually to fresh-faced newcomers who didn't know the history.
Until, that is, the Sarah Kincaid case.
"Co-ed found behind some bushes on – get this – the annual campus streaking day. M.E. says she died of asphyxiation, but she was also stabbed several times. There's a professor looking good for it," Lennie Briscoe reported.
"Name?" Jack McCoy asked absently, crossing out a line in a summation.
Briscoe sighed quietly and McCoy lifted his head, eyebrows raised. "Name?" he asked again, more impatiently.
"Sarah Kincaid." Briscoe watched the attorney's face blanch and quickly added, "There's no relation, Jack."
"Of course not," McCoy said sharply. And then, much more subdued, "There must be hundreds of them in the city. It's not an uncommon name. I suppose – I suppose I just assumed –" He ran a shaky hand through his hair and looked back down at the summation.
"Jack, I thought the same thing. It's natural, I guess." Briscoe assured him.
When McCoy didn't respond, Briscoe turned to leave. He paused at the doorjamb. "I am sorry, Jack," he said softly. By the time McCoy looked up, Briscoe had already gone.
"Me too," he said to the empty room, because somehow, saying it aloud made it more true.
Oh, God, me too.