The standard disclaimer applies: All characters are property of Dick Wolf and NBC Universal. Not mine, not making money.
A/N: This story - or several chapters of it - has been published here before, but was removed because I wasn't happy with it. After much revision, it has returned.
I: Nothing to Lose
The ding of the elevator bell signaled that it had stopped at the ninth floor. Claire Kincaid took a deep breath.
Rationally, she knew that this wasn't a good idea – but another, much larger part of her didn't care. Joel Thayer would be spending the next eighteen months in a cell in Rikers for his campaign of terror against Janet Rudman, but victory was bittersweet. It wasn't over for Claire; she still couldn't practice law, and reversing the censure would be a long and difficult process.
Claire had shored up her confidence with several glasses of Chardonnay, and felt slightly tipsy. She hoped that she wouldn't run into Adam, but then again, it didn't matter. Even if the censure was reversed, the fact remained that she had resigned and was no longer an employee of the New York County District Attorney's Office. That made a big difference in what she was about to do.
She thought the world of Ben Stone. He was a great lawyer – practically a legend at One Hogan Place. Everyone knew that he was next in line for the top job, and Schiff seemed to be grooming him for it. She'd been thankful for the opportunity to learn from him; it would do her well in private practice, if she ever got there.
She had always been attracted to him – older, powerful men had a tendency to do that to her. Unlike Thayer, Ben wasn't intentionally seductive; he had drawn her in with his decency and quiet charm, and he didn't even seem to realize it. Not that she wore her feelings on her sleeve.
Now things had changed. She had tried to keep her past – and her affair with Thayer – hidden. But the secret was out, and Ben wasn't her boss anymore. The irony was not lost on her; she didn't yet know whether she had escaped her professional disaster unscathed, and now she was…hell, she didn't know what she was doing.
Except that it involved Ben, and feelings that went way beyond professional.
As she walked the short distance to her former boss's office, she made a halfhearted last-ditch effort to talk herself out of it; the last thing she needed was a reputation for sleeping with her bosses. But that no longer mattered either. There were people who were going to talk no matter what she did, and she had to know if her instincts were right.
If Ben Stone felt the same way towards her.
The clues were so subtle that she often wondered if they were really the product of her overactive imagination. But that was before Thayer's allocution hearing. There was something about Ben's insistence for the truth, the way he refused to let go until Thayer had confessed to everything. It seemed like more than simply justice for Janet Rudman.
She knocked on Ben's door. She didn't know what she was going to say to him or how, but she was going to find out.
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"Come in."
Claire stepped quietly into Ben's office, closing the door behind her. The window glass rattled, its sound echoing in her ears. It was funny, the things one noticed when nervous. She'd been in this office at least a few hundred times, yet never really heard that sound until now.
Ben sat behind his desk, a mess of paperwork in front of him. The top button of his shirt was unfastened, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. Behind him, the yellow glow of Centre Street leaked through partially closed window blinds. He looked up, focusing his gaze on her through his eternally crooked reading glasses.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he said.
She smiled, trying to project an image of confidence. I saw this man every day for almost a year, she thought. I'm just having a conversation with him. No big deal.
"Actually, I'm glad you dropped by." He stacked the file folders on top of each other, clearing a space on his desk for them. "I thought you might be interested to know that Thayer isn't having an easy time in jail. He's begging to be moved to minimum security."
Claire tried not to smile at the thought of the mighty Joel Thayer begging for mercy. She also didn't want to discuss her old lover, but had no choice.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Duck Arthur Gold's calls for a few days." A rare smile crossed Ben's face. "It's fun to watch him squirm."
"Gold or Thayer?"
He removed his glasses, setting them on the desk. "Take your pick. So, what brings you here?"
Claire paused. She had no idea how to approach this – it had to be just right. But she also had to think fast, and ended up going for the first plausible thing that popped into her mind.
"I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me?" He stood up, leaning in close to her. "For what?"
Damn, does he have to do that now? It always makes me go weak.
"Janet Rudman's lucky," Claire said. "Her husband still loves her, and she can pick up the pieces. I may never practice law again. It's cold comfort, but you got justice for me as well."
"I was just doing my job, Claire. I wasn't going to plead Thayer out unless he agreed to full disclosure of the facts. And this was partly my fault – I should have listened when you asked to be removed from the case. I owe you an apology."
Claire decided that it was now or never. The Chardonnay was beginning to wear off, and she feared that her nerve would soon go with it.
"Apology accepted," she said, her voice wavering. "But – can I ask you a personal question?"
Ben looked surprised, then intrigued. "Sure, I guess."
"Have you ever been involved with someone you worked with?" She fully expected him to take offense.
He hesitated for a moment. "Once. A woman who used to be an ADA here – she's a defense attorney now, and a damn fine one at that. Why do you ask?"
"Would you ever consider doing it again?"
Ben sat down on the edge of his desk. "There's a guy up on the tenth floor who's known for this sort of thing. Jack McCoy. Perhaps you've met him – given how beautiful you are, I'd be surprised if you haven't."
Oh my God. He just said that I was beautiful.
"I have no idea who he is. And you didn't answer my question." She placed her hand over Ben's, making her intent clear.
He was silent; his eyes widened in shock. Claire waited for his response – any response – but none was forthcoming. It became obvious that she had just made a terrible mistake. She'd assumed that Ben was somehow above interoffice affairs, but that turned out to not be the case. He just wasn't interested in her.
"I'm sorry," she stammered. "Forget that this ever happened." Determined to leave with some fragment of her dignity, she got out of there as quickly as she could without making a scene. Between this and having to tell the world that she'd slept with Joel Thayer, she didn't know which was worse.
Maybe now I've learned my lesson.
