Lenny, Rey, Jack and Abbie in a Cyberpunk crossover.
All characters are copyright NBC and Dick Wolf.
I'd been reading some Cyberpunk so I thought, why not? A few terms are from R. Talsorian Games and a couple from GURPS.

THE ARTIFICIAL McCOY

by Gadrin

TARNEX CORPORATION OFFICE
DOWNTOWN
9:18 PM SUNDAY JANUARY 16, 2158

"Hey detectives, he's in here" explained the officer in charge at the scene.

Lenny Briscoe and Rey Curtis stepped through the security door and into the office.

"Whaddya have?" asked Briscoe, pausing to look at the painting on the wall, a Turgot.

"Doctor Seymour Gaines," the officer pointed to the body laying face down on the ground, in a large pool of blood. "He's some kind of computer bigshot."

Rey Curtis stepped carefully and took a close look, "Throat's been cut."

"What a mess," Lenny meant the painting. The subject was a woman but her features were too distorted for his taste. He moved over towards his partner, took a look at the body, then began examining the desk.

A buzzing sound interrupted the investigation as one of the CSU recording drones flew in. It hovered above the body its camera lens panning slowly from head to toe.

"Hey!" Lenny barked at the drone. "Get a nice shot of Detective Curtis' flatop." The unit rose and panned over Rey's spiked, ebony gloss. "You and Debra calling it quits?"

Curtis ignored Briscoe and he crouched near the dead man, accessing the drone's telemetry through his cyberoptic link.

"Body temperature is down, with the ambient in here being close to normal," he told Briscoe. "Looks like he's been dead about two or three hours."

Lenny found the dead man's appointment PDA, but was unable to open it. He bent down and inspected the victim's hands, then removed one of his rings, passed it over the device, and the PDA popped open.

"Full schedule," Briscoe said after reviewing the entry's for today. "Three teleconference meetings and two job interviews, the rest is just work on a project." Lenny held the ring up so the drone could get a good look at it.

Curtis looked incredulous, "So what are you saying, someone didn't get the job and decided to whack him on the spot?"

Briscoe rolled his eyes in response to his partner's outburst. He turned to the officer. "Where is his secretary?"

"He doesn't have one."

"No secretary?" Lenny was disappointed. The other ring wasn't a marriage band. "I was expecting something young and female."

Curtis tapped the officer on the shoulder, "See if you can locate the security staff and find out who was the last person through that door."

Rey returned to the drone's readout of the body. Telemetry revealed a few things in the man's pockets, so he reached in.

"A lighter, cigarettes and," Curtis held up a small package, "Throat lozenges. He had a cold."

Briscoe shook his head, "That's one sore throat that's not going away."

27TH PRECINCT
LIEUTENANT VAN BUREN'S OFFICE
8:27 AM MONDAY JANUARY 17, 2158

"What did security have to say?" asked Anita Van Buren in between sips of her mocha synthablend.

"According to the building's security system, the last log for Dr. Gaines' door was at 5:05 yesterday morning. We talked to several people who were in the office and they say it wasn't unusual for him to work unusual hours. Even on a Sunday."

"Who is this guy?"

"Doctor Seymour Gaines, 59 years old, several degrees, specialized in Artifical Intelligence. He's been with Tarnex for almost thirteen years."

"Did any of these other people see or talk to him?"

"Yeah, they saw him, yesterday afternoon," Rey pulled out a printout of the lobby security sheets. "When you leave the building, you swipe your ID. The people we talked with were going home before dinner. Nothing wrong then. The door to his office has a glass partition. They saw Dr. Gaines working at his desk. One of the security guards was doing a roving check. He found him last night."

"So the perp could've been someone in the building?"

"According to the printout, Gaines entered the building at 5AM, but the guard doesn't remember seeing him. He said he left to use the can. Printout confirms the door to the men's restroom was used around that time. I checked the entry to the doctor's office. I show it being accessed at 5:05 AM. He never left after that."

"All day in that office?" Anita couldn't fathom that. She was in and out of hers constantly. "Someone could've gone in with him," she sipped her faux-coffee, "Two through the door. Did you double-check the system? It could be malfunctioning."

"Naw," Lenny smiled, "The technician who found him, saw the body thru the glass partition. He went and got security. It registered them opening it, before they called us."

"So either someone went in with him last night, or someone tampered with the system. What about the system logs?"

"No luck. It wasn't recorded or it was erased."

Van Buren nodded. Her intercom buzzed.

"It's the medical examiner's office, she's ready to go."

Anita exhaled, "Thank god I skipped breakfast."

Van Buren pulled a remote out of her desk and punched a series of buttons. The autoshades drew, the lights dimmed and the holoprojector in her ceiling flashed a 3D picture of a pair of doctors in surgical gowns performing a post mortem.

The three sat and watched as the cutting commenced. As autopsies went, it was fairly routine.

"Well, cause of death was definitely his throat," said Rodgers, pulling down her mask. "Single slice, right to left. Bruise under the chin, like whoever it was had him by the neck or a headlock. The bruise has a distinct marking in it, so the killer may have held something in his hand when this happened. I don't know what though."

"So the killer was a lefty?"

"Yup, and very sharp blade. Probably monowire. Whoever it was knew what they were doing."

"How can you tell?" asked Curtis.

"Monowire cuts so well that it's easy to take someone's head off. I'd say the killer had experience and that they probably had a fair amount of blood on his arm when they were done."

"Anything else?" Van Buren was glad this was a short one.

"Nope. My medscanner's doing the report, the RFLP and summary. You guys will have the upload in about 10 minutes. Have a good one."

Briscoe grunted, and Van Buren snapped the remote. The holo-scene shifted to the DA's office.

It was Marjorie Brandt the DA's office secretary. "Hi lieutenant, what can I do for you?"

"Hi, I need an e-warrant for our cyberteam to deck into Tarnex Corp's system and poke around. It's something for a murder that happened yesterday. We've looked at their security printout and found some inconsistencies and we want our people to access their system and take a look."

"All right, uh, Miss Carmichael and Mister McCoy are in court this morning. Send over the case material with your request and I'll prepare it for them. Okay?"

"Fine, you'll get the transmission in 30 minutes, bye."

Van Buren punched the remote twice more and the lights came back on and the autoshades opened.

"Have you two been to the good doctor's home?" she asked.

Curtis shook his head.

Van Buren smiled, "Time for some old fashioned police work."

REIGER APARTMENT BUILDING
APARTMENT 829
9:14 AM MONDAY JANUARY 17, 2158

"Clean freak," said Briscoe after popping the door. He still had Gaines' ring. "Whoa!" Lenny stared at the three story-high skylight.

"Hologram," Curtis shook his head. "We're on the eighth floor remember?" The Reiger had 40 floors.

"Still," Briscoe admired the effect, "A nice touch. Really opens the room up. My place could use one."

Curtis placed the black case he was carrying on the coffee table, opened it, punched a few buttons. A drone flew out and began it's room-by-room survey of the dead man's abode. Lenny followed it down the hall.

Curtis adjusted his cybereyes and examined the walls. Photolaminate overlay. The place was holosuite. There was a short beep in his ear from the drone.

Curtis shifted to his cyber-HUD and peeked at the drone's link. Lenny had followed it into the master bedroom. The unit's millimetric radar scanner showed the outline of a body through the closet door.

Engaging his cyber-reflexes, Rey charged down the hall in a sprint. He caught Briscoe just in time.

"Closet!" was all he said.

Lenny drew his gun and the pair covered the closet door, "Come on out. We know you're in there."

Nothing.

Lenny, moving well for an all meat puppet, thrust the door open, "OUT!" he shouted.

When nothing happened, he reached in and pulled. Briscoe's shoulders dropped immediately. He spun his revolver like a cowboy and holstered it.

"Android," he looked disgusted. "A dead one."

"What in the hell are you doing?" asked an incredulous voice.

Rey's reflexes responded and he drew, aiming at the hallway, his smartlink crosshairs hovered over the figure's chest. It was his turn to realize it was a false alarm. It was an elderly man, white-haired with a large nose, and he was semi-transparent.

"Hologram," chided Briscoe.

"I'm going to contact the police!" hissed the holographic stranger.

"Too late," Briscoe fished out his badge. "And you are?"

"Andrew Casson, Dr. Gaine's assistant."

"A holographic assistant?"

"Yes, why? Do you have a problem with that?"

A holographic smart-ass, thought Lenny. "So you know?"

"Know what?"

"Your master is dead."

OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY
12:39 PM THURSDAY JANUARY 17, 2158

Claire Kincaide strode around the corner and into view. From Jack McCoy's vantage point she looked breath-taking. Wearing an ankle-length, black, backless, Givenchy dress, matching Prada pumps, a set of ostentatious pearls and a tiny, elegant handbag. She looked positively stunning. Her hair was down, coiled around her cheeks, framing her smile in a timeless manner.

Her red lips parted, "Nice tux Jack."

McCoy tapped his thighs and took Claire's arm, as the pair strolled down the hallway of the Waldorf Astoria. Jack flashed back to a similar moment they'd experienced: walking with Claire through Central Park hot on the trail of Willard Tappan. They finally reached the lobby. The crowd of other guests and patron quieted, then parted for them, causing Claire to look at Jack. She could hear them whispering enviously about her looks. Jack gave her his "What do you expect?" stare. One of the Astoria's doorman opened the door for them and they stepped right into a waiting limo.

"Where to tonight Jack?" with the crowd gone, Claire regained her composure quickly.

"I thought a night out at the Met..." began the ADA, launching into the intinerary he'd planned.

Abbie Carmichael paused before entering Jack McCoy's office. She heard Jack speaking softly. It didn't sound like a conference call.

"Great!" she thought. He was probably with "her."

After a busy morning in court, the two hour lunch break was a necessity. It didn't mean Abbie didn't have anything to do, it was more of catchup period for busy attorneys working the city's legal system and this day was no different than any other.

Abby didn't go in, instead she walked back to the water cooler and sipped a drink, making small-talk with Marjorie Brandt, whose desk was nearby. The privacy button on the phone for Jack's office was lit, so she'd guessed right. Abbie swallowed the rest of the water then headed back. He'd probably be upset, but it was something she couldn't put off. She tugged on her right earring twice, triggering the chromatic implants in her scalp. Jack liked the streaked look and had commented on it a number of occaisions. The result was that her hair would have patches of sandy-blonde in it, striped uniformedly.

She knocked on his door and walked in.

She was right, Jack was wearing his VR rig.

Five and half years ago some solo had paid a netrunner to hack the computer on his cybercar, enabling him to override the city's cybergrid controls and do as he wished. Out on a mission, his cybercar had collided with the cybercar containing Claire and Lenny Briscoe. Only Briscoe had walked away from the collision. While the accident hadn't killed Claire outright her body had endured so much physical trauma, that she'd soon be dead. Somehow the paramedics had gotten her to the cyberdocs just in time, keeping her body in temporary stasis via their Doc Wagon's cryo-unit. Unlike Dr. Gaines who had been dead too long, the medicos had been able to save her consciousness, as a braintape. Claire Kincaid continued to live on as a "chippie."

Jack McCoy had spent almost all of his savings and earnings getting her body interred via cryogenic freezing upstate. Supposedly reanimation and transferred intelligence were "on the horizon" according to the medical profession. It was still decades away but Jack had mortgaged himself up to his bushy eyebrows, just for the chance to be reunited with Claire someday. Who knew what advances might be made in cloning and cyborging in the coming years? It was a slim hope, but a chance he had decided to take. He was also pouring money into computer simulations like this one, of a "night out on the town." It was what he wanted, so it seemed to be worth it.

In the meantime, this was Claire's place in the world now, one of the disembodied who remained alive via science and saw and felt only through electronics and virtual reality.

Claire stared at McCoy and smiled, an act that never failed to please him.

There was a flash in his headset, meaning someone had opened the door to his office. Jack punched the pause button and unsnapped the visor. It was Abby. She wanted something: she'd augmented her hairstyle.

"Sorry to interrupt you," Abby's voice was a husky, polite tone. "The police need a warrant to deck Tarnex Corp's computer system."

Jack was flabbergasted, but held onto his temper, "Can't you handle it?"

"I tried. It seems that even though the office is in New York, the computer's in Chicago. We need your help on the request to the Cook County DA. I'm due back in court in thirty minutes."

He nodded, "Give me ten minutes." He donned the visor immediately, causing Abby to shake her head. She couldn't understand why Jack wanted a virtual relationship...especially when there were living women around. Abby had heard of Jack's reputation through the grapevine, and had expected him to hit on her after she'd come aboard the DA's office. But it never happened. Then she found out about Claire. She chalked it up to true love...which had devolved into morbid obsession.

As she walked out the door, Abby tugged on her earring and restored her hair.

27TH PRECINCT
LIEUTENANT VAN BUREN'S OFFICE
2:14 PM THURSDAY JANUARY 17, 2158

"So you can't tell who doctored the security logs to Doctor Gaines' office?"

The trio was back in Van Buren's office, vid-conferencing with the NYPD Netrunning Unit, who were handling the data trail portion of the investigation. McCoy had talked to Cook County and had gotten them their warrant.

The police decker shook his head, "No I can't give you that. Whoever it was was good, they knew the system and covered themselves."

Van Buren shook her head, but the face of the decker broke into a smile.

"Fortunately the cyber-warrant covered not only Dr. Gaines' office, but all systems linked to it, so I took a look at all systems logs and what was happening during that timeframe." The decker's face faded, replaced by a set of entries, dates, times and codes. "These are the environmental system logs. It's a separate system, but it shares a control interface with the data LAN. You'll notice the air conditioning was turned up 20 degrees in the office the day before. It remained at 52 degrees until Sunday at 1 PM."

"That's a little chilly for someone with a cold," said Lenny.

"That throws off the time of death for the ME," Curtis barked.

"I don't get it. Whoever it was turned off the security logs but forgot to cover themselves with this?" Briscoe was confused.

"Like I said, it's a different system," explained the decker. "The Tarnex computer system can make environmental requests, but the actual logging is done on the other computer. There's no way to access it unless you're physically connected to the unit. I contacted the system admininstrator and he gave me the data."

"Great work," commented Van Buren, "Make sure you upload a copy of these to the ME so she can revise her findings."

The conference ended.

"I know, I know," said Briscoe, "Time for more traditional police work."

Traditional was a relative term.

Briscoe and Curtis spent the afternoon at the Tarnex Security Office reviewing video logs for the time of death. The environmental system wasn't the only system separate from Tarnex's main computers. The video system was also unique. In fact, no one had entered Tarnex at 5AM. They saw the guard leave for his potty break, but no one came into the building until after 8AM. So they had the Tarnex people cue up the previous day's video. Finally, they spotted the good doctor entering the building on Friday night.

"Boy this complicates things," said Briscoe. Curtis nodded, and asked for copies of the videos for the whole weekend, starting Friday morning.

Dr. Elizabeth Rodgers revised her estimate given the temperatures and times of the environmental logs, such that time of death could have occured as early as Saturday. It also explained why the body never went into rigor in police custody. It had already done so and rigor had long since worn off.

Meanwhile the NYPD Netrunning Unit had built a facial recognition database, using Tarnex's employee files. But it was a non-starter. Everyone matched. No one out of place, and no visitors. So Briscoe and Curtis fired up a pot of coffee and viewed the video. Within an hour they had a lead: one of the janitors entering the building on Friday had a cyberarm. You could see the chrome fingers hanging just below the cuff. But according to the employee files, the janitor, Enrique Flores, didn't have a cyberarm. So Briscoe and Curtis went to see him.

They found him dead, victim of the same sore throat as Dr. Gaines.

They called for CSU and looked around. After 30 minutes of searching Rey's cybereyes caught the glint of a broken piece of chipware, under the small table in the kitchen. Whoever had done this to Flores had assaulted him in the kitchen. There'd been a struggle until the janitor had been killed in the living room.

The good news was that Flores was like Briscoe, no chrome. CSU put the chip under the nano-scanner and found a serial number etched on the chip's case. It was part of a set of disguise chips. Whoever it was could morph their face to resemble another.

The killer had come in later than the other janitors, and the guard hadn't noticed his arm. He'd entered Gaines' office and waited. They called in the chip information and twenty minutes later got a hit.

REIGER APARTMENT BUILDING
APARTMENT 829
6:26 PM THURSDAY JANUARY 17, 2158

Jack McCoy thanked the super for letting him into Gaines' apartment. He'd been in his office, reading Briscoe's and Curtis report when he saw the note about the photolaminate covering on the walls and ceiling. He immediately grabbed his gear, including his personal VR laptop, loaded up his bike and brought them all to the address.

The place was nice, well furnished and quiet. He put down his bags, put away his ID and located the room controls. The drone's report had been thorough and had vid-logged the entire location. He removed his latop, jacked in and brought up Claire.

Moments later she rezzed into being in front of him, life-sized. A single breath escaped his lips. The quality of the equipment here was leaps and bounds beyond his own. It was like seeing a ghost from his past. Even if she was semi-transparent the holo-projector reproduced perfectly the wrinkles around her eyes and the hue of her cheekbones in an astounding blend of subtle visual cues. A shiver ran through his body.

"Jack!" Claire looked around, "Where are we? What is this place?"

"It's an apartment," McCoy could barely talk. Claire's image fritzed for a moment. A worried look overtook her and she glanced past Jack.

"She's quite beautiful," it was a man's voice, coming from behind McCoy. He turned in surprise. "I'm Andrew Casson," the doctor's assistant nodded. "I live here."

Jack recovered and explained his dilemma. The report had mentioned him. While Casson was sympathetic, he would have nothing of it and asked McCoy and his holographic companion to leave. McCoy begged for five minutes more, which Casson finally agreed to. The time passed too quickly for the ADA.

Outside, as he headed for his motorcycle, Jack felt remorse in coming here -- now he longed to touch her.

APARTMENT BUILDING
ALPHABET CITY
2:03 AM MONDAY JANUARY 21, 2158

Briscoe pulled their Land Rover into the alley near Alphabet City. The tactical unit was used for surveillance and they needed to know if their target was inside. The serial number on the broken chip pointed them towards a solo who fit the general description: tall, dark with a chrome right arm, named Darvin Hamm.

The sunroof slid open and out flew a tactical drone, similar to the CSU one, only much quieter, with a surveillance sensor suite. It quickly flew to the top floor and hovered outside the window of Hamm's apartment. Briscoe flicked on the display screen, the room was dark. The nightvision lens showed nothing, no movement around the window. While Lenny painted the window with a laser microphone, Rey unsnapped his left cyberhand, exchanging it for a combat version.

As Lenny brought up the mic's sensitivity, they could hear snoring.

"I'd say there's a good chance it's him," said Briscoe, while Curtis ran through the new hand's diagnostic in his cyber-HUD. It completed successfully.

The pair got out, donned kevlar trenchcoats, double checked their weapons and went inside to find the manager. Once Upstairs, he unlocked the door quietly then withdrew.

Rey's cyber-HUD interfaced with the drone and showed no movement inside the apartment during the time they made their way upstairs. Since he had nightvision, Rey went first.

The snoring was loud. It came from the first bedroom on the left. The pair took 2 quiet steps when a powerful strobe flashed, followed immediately by a series of high-pitched whistles. They heard movement in the bedroom.

Rey's cybereyes weren't polarized and the strobe kept flashing, blinding both men. Lenny covered his eyes but remained next to the door. Rey couldn't see. Thinking fast, he switched his cyber-HUD to the interface with the drone outside. IR showed the strobe was a milk carton-sized container, sitting on the counter about two steps away. A gunshot rang out from the bedroom, and Rey gambled, stepping forward and slashing hard with his cyberhand, back and forth. His second strike hit the strobe, unseating it and knocking it to the ground.

Outside, the drone's AI shifted its angle so it could peek in and see down the hallway towards the bedroom. The bedroom door opened and a figure emerged, gun in hand, two steps away from Rey. The detective crouched and extended the first and last finger on his tactical hand. His fingertips exploded and the taser darts embedded in Darvin Hamm's abdomen. The solo's body convulsed in a 10,000 volt seizure as electricity raced through him. Rey fell on top, disarming him as best he could.

Briscoe staggered to his feet blinking. Out in the hall, the other tenants were coming out of their apartment, woken by the noise.

"Lucky this mook has been drinkin'" growled Curtis, snapping handcuffs on the groaning, stunned prisoner.

Briscoe snapped on the lights, causing him to squint like an old man.

"It's okay folks, the excitement's over," he pushed the other tenants away while blinking his eyes several times.

Darvin Hamm was white, wore a crew cut and fresh-looking fu-manchu beard was just starting to come in. His flat top was nowhere near as thick as Rey's.

"Ugly mutha!" groaned Curtis as he hauled Hamm to his feet. He pushed the solo into the wall. "I think I liked you better when you looked like Enrique Flores!"

"Ow! Whoooo?"

"Enrique Flores, you scumbag!" Curtis turned Darvin against the wall face first as he padded him down. "The man you killed! The janitor from Tarnex Corp!"

"Ain't never heard of him. You guys got the wrong man!" Rey herded the prisoner into a nearby chair.

Briscoe used his walkie-talkie to tell the drone to contact the precinct. He then went into the bedroom, emerging a few seconds later holding a tanto carefully between gloved fingers.

"Nice knife Darvin, monowire too. I think you're going away for two counts of murder. Looks like the state's got another guest for it's death row party."

OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY
7:38 AM TUESDAY JANUARY 22, 2158

For the first time in over a year, McCoy didn't spend the previous night with the VR Claire. The short encounter with her in the holosuite had a profound affect on the ADA. So did meeting Casson. When he got home, he felt so empty that he had immediately gone to work on his supply of scotch.

He'd spent the the rest of the night staring at his television, sound off, munching on a leftover tuna sandwich from lunch.

A few more scotches put him out.

Now he was in his office, shaking off his hangover with stim pills. Two hours earlier his ringing phone woke him after he'd fallen asleep on his couch. It was Abbie. Briscoe and Curtis had caught the prime suspect in the Gaines' murder, so Jack cleaned up quick and went into the office. He and Abbie patched into the secure broadcast of the interrogation.

Briscoe shifted in his seat while Curtis paced back and forth behind Hamm. Surprisingly the suspect hadn't lawyered-up.

"Go ahead detective," Abbie said into her headset. Her voice carried into Rey's cyber-HUD and Briscoe's earpiece.

"One more time Darvin," Curtis rapped the back of Hamm's neck with his knuckles as he paced. "Who hired you?"

"I told you, I don't know," Darvin was getting irritated.

Curtis smacked the man's ear on his next cross. "Cabron! It's gonna be a one-man needle party for you."

"I never met him face to face! He knew my rep, sent me half the cash up-front and told me the job."

"Him? So it was a man?"

Hamm thought about it and nodded, "Yeah, he sent me audio clips after the fund transfers. It was a little weird at first, but he said he could cover my tracks in Tarnex's computer system. We made a dry run last week, and no one knew."

"Did you keep these audio clips?" This time Curtis walked past without hitting the suspect.

"Yeah. Check my safe deposit box. I got all my 'special work files' in there. Now what about that needle?"

Both Curtis and Briscoe turned to the camera and McCoy and Carmichael.

Abbie spoke into her headset: "I'll get a warrant..." her voice trailed off. Jack was sitting in his chair stairing out into space. She hit mute and stood.

"Are you all right?"

Jack nodded sullenly.

Abbie stood, and glanced around Jack's desk. He'd left his laptop and VR rig over on the couch, buried under his leathers and workstuff he took home with him. She'd never seen the unit beyond his immediate reach, unless they were out of the building.

Abbie returned 45 minutes later to Jack's office.

He looked better, she thought. He'd shaved and dressed for his court appearances later in the day. The VR rig was back on his desk. They patched back in as Briscoe and Curtis played the audio clips Hamm had steered them to.

The voice spoke in a calm and clear manner, detailing what he needed Hamm to do for him.

Briscoe and Curtis exchanged confused stares. Jack's forehead moved, causing his hair to dance.

"The doctor's assistant!" McCoy said.

Abbie looked confused. "I thought he didn't have an assistant. I'll amend the indictment."

Jack hit the mute and whispered, "He's an artifical intelligence, not a human being."

OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY
6:38 PM TUESDAY JANUARY 22, 2158

Abbie paused at Jack's door. All was quiet so she knocked and entered right away. She now knew all the details of the case.

Jack was there, sitting quietly looking out the window at Manhattan's night skyline. His VR rig was still laying on his desk.

"The police confirmed that Dr. Gaines was going to shut off the artifical intelligence known as Andrew Casson that he'd created," her husky voice issued forth. "The cop's cyberdecking unit went through the doctor's backups and found he was unhappy with it...er, him. He was developing another one, a replacement. Apparently the survival routines he'd developed for Casson had worked a bit too well. Casson must have found out that he was history and arranged to have Dr. Gaines killed," she paused before adding: "A very human-like quality."

Jack just nodded.

Abbie picked up Jack's goggles and examined them. She'd heard that a few private practice firms were bringing AIs onboard to aid in research and caseload. She imagined how valuable a Claire Kincaid prototype might be. Jack could retire. Of course the man before her would never put his love through that...obsession or no obsession.

Jack turned around to face her, "So I guess we won't be going to court. What's being done?"

"Jack," her husky voice had an apologetic tone, "I know this case has hit you close to home..." she stopped suddenly, but there was no easy way to put it. "The only thing Tarnex can do," Abbie said softly, before laying down the goggles. "They're pulling the plug."

There were a few moments of awkward silence, then Jack walked around the desk.

Abbie gave him a sympathetic smile and he smiled back.

Jack reached up slowly and gently pulled Abbie's earring, twice.

THE END