Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All characters and stories belong to NBC and Dick Wolf.

Hell Freezes Over

Jack was pacing in his office. Mike did something stupid, and he'll have the bar association after his ass. Jack was not expecting anyone to come into his office. That stupid idiot, he thought, he's gonna get his ass handed to him by the bar. He wasn't that fond of Mike. Mike's methods were unconventional and he just didn't seem to see eye-to-eye with him.

There was a knock on his open door. He waved whomever it was in. Connie Rubirosa, Mike's assistant and his former assistant, stepped into the room. She glanced around. "Have a seat," ordered Jack.

She sat down, wanting to talk. She knew that Jack was pissed off. She didn't want it that way. She had respect for both men, especially Jack. Jack took her under his wing when she joined the DA's office. She waited for Jack to say something. She wanted him to. She wasn't called here for nothing. "What's wrong, Jack?" she asked. He continued to stare at the wall facing away from her. When he didn't answer her after about sixty seconds, she asked him again. "Jack," she started again, "what's wrong? You're staring into space." He turned himself toward her.

"Mike-." Connie held up her hand. Now she knew what this was about. Mike and his illegal attempts to obtain evidence from a search. He had gotten the evidence thrown out in Chambers. He wanted a search warrant for a company that was wiring illegal materials into their offices, but a judge wouldn't agree to sign one. The detectives had no clue that the warrant didn't exist. She glanced at Jack.

"I already know what he did," said Connie, "and I can assure you that I didn't know that he did that." Jack looked at her like she did know something. "I'm not lying."

"We should never have gotten him that promotion to Executive ADA," growled Jack.

"Are you pissed because he's getting his ass handed to the bar?" asked Connie, "or are you just pissed?"

"Consuela!" exclaimed Jack. He didn't know why he was pissed. He didn't know the reason. He stood up because Connie caught him in his moment. "I don't know."

"Jack," began Connie, "you and Mike are too much alike. The only reason that you two clash is because what he does reminds you of yourself as an Executive ADA."

Jack looked offended. "He is unethical."

"You were just as unethical as him," argued Connie. "Don't deny it," she added as he opened his mouth again. "I know you Jack. I know that you have your way of doing things. I know that those ways make you see Mike like a younger version of yourself."

"Not true, Connie," said Jack. "I know you are having your laughs with him."

"About what?" asked Connie. "We have a rule. He can't complain about you as long as I'm his assistant. At least not when I'm around." Jack looked bewildered. "It's true. You took me under your wing. I've stuck up for you so many times." The fire in her eyes flamed. "Don't go throwing all that hypocritical garbage on Mike, Jack."

Jack looked at her with offense. He turned around. Connie realized what she said. Her eyes softened a little bit. "Jack," she whispered.

"No, Connie," he whispered back. "You're right." Connie tiptoed out of the room before Jack could say anything more to her.

Mike paced back and forth, making Connie come down with a little motion sickness because she had to watch it for ten minutes. "Mike, cut that out," she ordered. Mike stopped to look at her. He saw that her face grew pale. Realizing that she might be sick, he walked over to the chair right next to her to make sure she was okay. Mike has some feelings for Connie, feelings that he didn't know she would return or not.

Connie caught her breath. She let herself stop all motion for a minute to regain her strength. She stood up to see if she could walk. She did, but she felt unstable. Okay, she thought, what the hell is going on? She clutched the desk. "Jack's pissed about the way the trial's going, and about you knowingly getting your ass handed to the bar."

"I didn't tell you because I didn't know how you'd react," admitted Mike.

Connie felt sick again, but also relieved. She answered him, "well, I guess... you had good... in... ten...tions." She lost consciousness and blacked out. Her head hit Mike's desk. She slid to the floor.

"Oh shit!" screamed Mike. "Connie? CONNIE!" Jack flew into Mike's office from next door, his cell phone in his hand, 911 already dialed. As he talked to the operator, Mike tried to revive her. Her breathing was faint but she was breathing.

A tear glistened in Jack's eye. He yelled at Connie not but a few minutes ago. He realized that her life might be... no... is in danger.

The paramedics took Connie away in the ambulence. Mike stared across the street, his mind blank with fear. Jack sat next to him, forgetting that he was in trouble with the bar. "You okay?" he asked, aware of Mike's feelings for Connie.

"No," he admitted. "You?" he asked, aware of Jack's relationship with Connie.

"No," admitted Jack. They sat down together in the midst of saddness and depression. They couldn't continue on like that. They decided that, for Connie's sake, they would stop all the random bickering.