The standard disclaimer applies.
Jack McCoy was sitting in his office when the phone rang. The caller ID said that it was his friend at St. Anne's, Dr. George Wallace.
"Why do your ADA's keep on ending up here, Jack?" the voice on the other end of the line said.
"What do you mean, George?" Jack said, although he already had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.
"First there was Claire," said Dr. Wallace, "then that Borgia girl, and now this one. Her name is Connie Rubirosa. DOA after a nasty fender bender with some guy who had a little too much to drink. He's locked up at the 27th precinct. Charge him with murder, will you Jack? Anyhow, we can't find her next of kin. I was hoping you could help me with that part."
"Her family is all dead ," said Jack, "but her fiancee works two offices over."
"Wow. She was sleeping with her boss too?"
"You know what they say," Jack said, "those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."
"She would have been happy to be taken out of her misery," the doctor said. "She was thrown almost ten feet, multiple fractures, hematomas, and after about five minutes, one of her ribs popped her heart."
"Maybe we can get together sometime and discuss this," said Jack, "But I have to go tell a man his fiancee just suffered a cruel and unusual death." He hung up the phone.
It was only at this moment that he realized how hard it must have been for Adam to tell him about Claire. While Jack had never hinted at the fact they were involved, it was pretty obvious. Why do the best things happen to the worst people?
I'll need a drink when I get home after this conversation, thought Jack.
Michael Cutter was so engrossed in his case, Jack had to knock several times before just giving up and opening the door.
"Hey Jack," Mike said, "I just found the evidence to catch this bastard! Here, come take a look."
"I'm not here about your case," Jack said flatly.
"Then why are you here?" asked Mike. The look on Jack's face however, told him that something was wrong.
"It's about Connie," Jack said. "She was driving home, and some druck SOB hit her. She was a DOA at the hospital."
There was a strained silence between the two men.
"Jack," Mike said, "the hypothetical death situations aren't funny anymore. And it's not April Fool's day, either. Please don't joke with me about this kind of thing."
"No," said Jack sadly, "this is all very much real. I'm so sorry Mike."
"No," said Mike, almost yelling now. He look ed at his Blackberry and saw that there was a message. "This phone message is from Connie," said Mike. "She's probably just calling to tell me she got home safe. I'll put it on speaker so you can hear." Mike was still shaking his head. No. Jack had to be lying. They were getting married for Christ's sake.
"Hi Mike," the message said, "I'm-" and then the sound of twisting metal was all that could be heard.
"The doctors at St. Anne's don't lie," said Jack.
Mike's face crumpled. "Was it quick? Did she suffer?"
Jack nodded. "Took her five minutes to die."
Michael began to sob. Jack remembered how he wished that Adam could console him after Claire's death. So he got up, gave Mike a hug and shed some tears of his own for Connie Rubirosa.