Interrogation Room

27th Precinct

July28, 1992

3:15 PM

"Call him off, Lennie," Kate concluded, watching through the two way mirror as Logan interrogated a suspect.

"Give him a minute, Kate," Lennie tried.

"You don't have anything on him and he just called for a lawyer," she firmly said.

"He didn't say he wanted to stop, he just said he was thinking of getting a lawyer."

"Lennie," she said, rolling her eyes, "Don't argue semantics. A good defense attorney can get anything he says thrown out of court…now, are you gonna stop him or am I?"

With a tired sigh, Briscoe walked into the interrogation room and called Logan off.

A moment later, Logan stormed out of the room and over to Kate. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"He called for a lawyer…"

"He said he was thinking of getting one…not that he wanted one," he hissed.

"And that would be enough for any decent defense lawyer to get anything he said afterwards thrown out," she returned, standing toe to toe with him.

"I could've gotten him to confess…five more fucking minutes and he would've talked…"

"Listen to me," she firmly said, "He said lawyer…you're shut down until one gets here."

Logan glared at her for a moment, then turned and slammed his hand into the wall. "Son of a bitch," he spat, turning on Kate. "Whose side are you on?"

Willing herself to remain impassive and not give into her anger, she replied, "I'm on your frigging side, Logan. If you'd just take a god damned minute and think about it…" Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Do not go back into that room until his Public Defender shows up, do you understand me, Detective?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he snarled, contempt dripping from his words.

"Watch him, Lennie," she said, picking up her purse and walking past them. "I'm going to go have a cigarette."

Kate walked out of the room and through the crowded bull pen. Head full of steam; she didn't stop until she stood on the front steps. She pulled a cigarette from the pack in her purse and lit it with her lighter. After taking a long, deep drag, she exhaled, willing the anger to leave her body.

"You okay?" Briscoe's voice began, causing her to turn towards him.

She nodded, "Your partner pisses me off."

"He does more than that," Lennie knowingly said.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You and Mike…" he nodded.

"Me and Mike, what?" she looked at him. "What did he tell you?"

"Believe it or not, nothing," Lennie laughed.

"Yeah, sure," she sniffed. "I'm sure he's told you where, when, and how many times."

Lennie raised a brow, "There's been multiple times?"

She studied him for a moment, wondering if he was stringing her along. "He really didn't tell you anything?"

"Katie," he said, his tone serious, "He really didn't say anything."

"Great, so I just gave it away," she sighed, taking another drag.

"Nah, you both did. You just confirmed it."

"Shit…"

"Relax, who'm I gonna tell?"

"Nobody, I hope," she laughed, stubbing out her cigarette in the large ashtray near the door. "Wait a minute; you didn't leave Logan in there alone, did you?"

"Do I look stupid? He's in Cragen's office," Lennie winked, "Come on; the PD should be here by now."

Apartment of ADA Kate O'Hara

July 28, 1992

8:30 PM

Kate walked out of her bedroom and made her way to the kitchen. In the 15 minutes since she'd been home, she'd changed into a pair of cut off denim shorts and a white tank top and pulled her dark red hair up into a pony tail. She was tired and wanted nothing more than dinner and sleep.

She walked into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator, studying its contents. "Shit…" she said, aloud, not finding anything that interested her, she shut the door. "You are not calling for pizza…" she reprimanded herself. "You will be a lard ass…"

Hearing the intercom buzz, she shut the refrigerator and walked to the door. Pushing the intercom button, she spoke, "Yeah?"

"Kate, it's Mike. Can I come up?"

"I'm still pissed at you…" she returned.

"Yeah, I know…can I come up?"

"Sure, why not," she flatly said, buzzing him in.

A few moments later, he walked in the door, carrying a bouquet of daisies.

"Flowers?" she asked, surprised.

"I couldn't find a white flag," he said, "I thought white flowers might work."

She raised a brow, taking the bouquet from his outstretched hand. "Thanks." She carried them into the kitchen.

Logan followed her, watching from the doorway while she put the bouquet into a glass vase and then filled the vase with water. She set it on the small dinette set, and then turned to face him.

"I got outta hand today…" he admitted.

"Yeah, you do that a lot, don't you," she sniffed, not willing to give him an inch.

"I do," he agreed. "I know I really pissed you off."

"You did," she allowed.

"You pissed me off," he tried.

"I was right."

He paused for a moment, regrouping. She really wasn't going to budge. "You aren't going to help me out here, are you?"

"Why should I? You asked me whose side I was on." she shook her head. "I can understand you asking someone you don't know that question…but me?"

"I forgot who I was talking to."

"No shit." She glared at him, color rising on her cheeks. "You pissed me the hell off…"

He stood toe to toe with her, "You pissed me off…" he countered, although at that moment, he was anything but pissed off. He watched her as she stared him down. Her face was flushed, her eyes were flashing. He knew it was a cliché, but she really was sexy when she was pissed off.

"I'll say it again," she returned, her tone firm and strong, "I was right and…"

He cut her off with a hard kiss. She was caught off guard, at first, but after a moment, she returned the kiss, mirroring his passion.

"Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?" he growled.

"Show me," she challenged, as he backed her to the sofa.

Clothing was shed, tossed aside carelessly, as they fell onto the sofa. Anger fueled their passion and drove them with a hunger and urgency they hadn't experienced before. They took each other nearly to the brink, and then pulled back, daring each other to keep going.

"Give in, Logan," she said, feeling herself reaching her peak.

"You first," he returned, looking down at her face.

"You first," she countered, locking her eyes on to his and staring him down, her face tilted down, her eyes raised, but locked onto his with an intense gaze.

There was something about the way she stared him down, whether in bed, or at work, that sent a jolt straight through him. Tonight was no different and the jolt forced all thought of control from his mind. Giving in, he allowed himself release. A moment later, Kate followed.

Slowly, Logan sat up and looked down at Kate. "Still pissed at me?"

"Yeah," she said, stretching her legs across his lap, "But not as much."

He laughed, running his hand along the length of her leg. "Remind me to piss you off more often…"

She smiled, "Like I'll need to remind you of that." She reached out and stroked his arm. "What is it about you," she began, "That's so damn addicting?"

He gave her a smug smile, "It's the whole package…"

Kate laughed, "All that and modesty, too."

"Not to change the subject," he said, with a smart smile, "But, I'm starving. Did you eat yet?"

She shook her head, "Nope, and I don't feel like cooking or getting dressed. So, that means, we order out and you answer the door."