The usual disclaimer applies: All characters are property of Dick Wolf and NBC Universal. Not mine, not making money.
"You still don't approve," Jack said, arranging strips of bacon on a frying pan.
Claire swallowed her coffee. It tasted bitter, just like how she felt. "No, Jack, I don't approve. Exactly what are we accomplishing? If we kill him, we're no better than he is."
Jack turned his attention to the eggs. "Well, for one thing, I'm not keen on my tax dollars going to feed, clothe, and house Mickey Scott for the next fifty years."
"And state-sanctioned murder is a more preferable option for you?"
"As a matter of fact, it is." Jack turned down the heat on the stove. "Claire, I'm not holding a gun to your head. You don't have to be there if you don't want to."
Claire shook her head. "I helped strap him to that gurney. I feel as though it's my duty."
"You did your job, Claire. It just happens that the death penalty was the punishment that the judge chose. It's no different from any other case."
"Really?" Even though the coffee was horrible, Claire couldn't stop drinking it. "Why do I feel so useless, then? It doesn't matter what we do, Jack – there are always more crimes, and more defendants, and more fucking defense lawyers who'll do anything to get their clients off, regardless of whether or not they're actually responsible –"
"What do you want me to say, Claire? This is what we do."
"It's not what I want to do!" Claire exclaimed. "Not anymore!"
"Not this conversation again," Jack hissed. "You want to quit? Fine. I'm not going to argue. What's keeping you from handing in your resignation? I'm sure that Adam will happily accept it."
"Gee, thanks," Claire said bitterly. "And you know damn well why I haven't resigned. Every attorney in that building is going to take one look at me and think that I'm just another one of your assistants who left because things got too personal."
"You got through the Thayer scandal. You'll survive. And I'll remind you that all of my relationships were mutual, including ours, and that I didn't force Diana or Sally to leave."
"You unimaginable bastard," Claire said. "I've meant that little to you?"
"No, Claire, quite the contrary – you've meant a great deal to me, and still do. But you're going to make this decision whether I fight it or not. And as much as I'd like you to stay on as my assistant, I don't want to keep you in a place where you're unhappy."
Claire sighed. Even when they fought, the spark was still there. It hadn't really existed between her and Ben – that had been a different kind of affair. Jack still didn't know, and she had no intention of ever telling him.
Jack pulled two plates from the kitchen cabinet. He assembled some food on the first plate, setting it down in front of Claire. She wasn't particularly hungry – how could she eat, when she was going to watch a man die in less than three hours?
"Bon appetit." He leaned down, kissing her – the old sign that he wanted to make up. It felt forced, though, like he was reaching for something that was barely there. And Claire wasn't in the mood to be romanced. Especially not now.
It just wasn't the same anymore.
finis
