Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Law and Order.
"Ready?"
Jack looked up from the stack of files on his desk, and the guilt in his expression gave her the answer to her question before he spoke.
"Almost. I just have to –"
She waved a dismissive hand at him, shucking off her overcoat and tossing it onto the coat rack in the corner before flopping down on his couch.
"Uh-huh," she agreed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just wake me up when you're ready to go."
"It won't be that long," Jack lied, knowing the closing statement he was currently penning would take him at least another hour to complete. Claire made a noise that from someone less elegant would have been a snort, and grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over herself.
"Make it before eleven, please," she replied, closing her eyes. "That's when the restaurant closes."
He didn't dignify her comment with a response, returning his attention instead to his closing statement. He'd used 'justice' too many times. Maybe if he changed it here to 'fairness', and rearranged the second paragraph…
When he looked up again, finally satisfied that the statement would convince the jury that the defendant deserved to be stoned to death or at least imprisoned for life, he smiled at the sight that met his eyes. Claire was fast asleep on his couch, her dark hair fanned out against the brown leather. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, her soft breathing audible in the otherwise silent office.
He left his desk to kneel beside her, smoothing a stray strand of hair away from her lovely face. He knew Claire had wanted him to wake her as soon as he was finished working, but it was hard for him to disturb her when she looked so peaceful.
"Claire?" he murmured finally, laying a gentle kiss on her cheek. She mumbled something under her breath but stayed asleep. He felt a familiar tightness in his chest, a combination of tenderness and awe and overwhelming love for this woman who had so completely stolen his heart. He hadn't thought he could ever love anyone this way, but Claire Kincaid's unique mix of outspoken passion and shy innocence had captivated him. She was the first woman he'd ever truly fallen for, and the fact that she returned his feelings still took his breath away.
"Time to wake up, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear, taking her hand in his and rubbing it tenderly. Even half-asleep she turned instinctively toward his touch, yawning as her eyes fluttered open.
"Hey, you," she murmured, smiling up at him, and his heart skipped a beat at the warmth in her honey-colored eyes. "Is it morning already?"
"Very funny," he replied dryly, standing up as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "Ready for dinner?"
"Mmm." She looked speculatively at him, patting the cushion beside her. "In a minute."
He sat obediently, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She leaned back against his chest, closing her eyes again.
"I love you," she sighed contentedly. "You know?"
"I know," he agreed, laying a soft kiss on the top of her head as he gave silent thanks that inthe metropolis of Manhattan, famous for being impersonal and heartless, they'd found each other. Claire brought the love and laughter into his life that he had craved since his childhood. In her presence, for the first time in his memory, he felt completely comfortable in his own skin. It was an incredible gift, and she gave it freely, asking only for his love in return. "I love you, Claire."
She smiled, nuzzling his jaw. "Now we can go to dinner," she decreed, standing up. He followed her obediently over to the coat rack, taking herovercoat from her and guiding her arms into the sleeves. She gave him a grateful smile and he kissed her in response, grabbing his own coat as an afterthought as they left his office.
"Good thing you remembered that," she teased, pointing at his coat as they headed for the elevator. "You might've been a little chilly without it."
The temperature outside was in the teens and dropping by the second now that the sun had gone down. He'd always hated the bitter cold of New York in the winter, and Claire knew it. She teased him about his love of heavy wool sweaters, but she never failed to add extra blankets to their bed when the weather turned cooler. It was just one of the countless little ways she took care of him, and one more reason he loved her so much.
Jack shrugged casually, gesturing for Claire to precede him into the empty elevator. As the doors slid shut, he embraced her from behind, pulling her body flush against his.
"I don't know about that," he murmured, his breath on her neck sending a pleasant shiver through her.
"No?"
"No." He nipped at her earlobe, reveling in her delighted giggle. "You're pretty good at keeping me warm."
They traded a look filled with loving desire, and Jack smiled to himself. When the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival on the ground floor, he stole a kiss and led her out into the snow. The cold held no threat for him tonight…not when he had Claire to warm his heart.