Malinowski spun around to find John Prescott grinning at her from the living area sofa. She lunged towards the set of steak knives on the far end of the counter, as Prescott's grin evaporated. After a few swift strides he leaped towards the counter, twisting her wrist until the knife fell from her grasp.
"How did you get in here,"she demanded as she pulled her wrist away."Jesus John, for a guy so concerned about protecting his image, you sure as hell break a lot of laws! Did you ever hear of breaking and entering?"
"Now Brooke, there's no reason to over react to a friendly family visit.You'd be amazed the places a Congressman with a full wallet can get in and out of without anyone remembering him being there later."
"You are not family,"she said putting the bistro table between the two of them, as she glanced around the room, looking for possible weapons."Jack's going to be here any minute to start stripping the kitchen cabinets, so-"
"Now we both know McCoy has meetings until four o'clock today," he said mockingly. "First he went to the 1 6 for a briefing from the Keller task force, then he had a lunch meeting with the commanding officer of the 2 7. Van Buren I think-"
"I told you not to concern yourself with Jack or myself. Maybe you didn't get the point last time you decided to barrage into my life," she said glancing at the cut that ran across the top of his left hand.
Prescott chuckled as he leaned across the small table.
"You over reacted to a friendly massage, my dear. Look at yourself… what happened to all that confidence you used to radiate? Knives, letter openers…my God I'll bet you're too terrified to sit over there on the sofa with me and have a civilized conversation."
"Why don't you quit playing games, you son of a bitch,"she spat. "You know damn well why I don't want you anywhere near me. You have what you wanted – Keller is dead. That means Jack has no reason to focus on you or your office."
"That would be true if your lover wasn't so persistent. That man is like a dog with a bone. I'm sure you know he hasn't closed Ethan unfortunate suicide yet. As for the rest," he said as he suddenly pushed the table aside. "Why don't you tell me why you're so uncomfortable when ever were alone together, my dear?"
Malinowski fought the urge to try to dash passed him. She impatiently told herself he'd be a fool to try anything with her lucid and able to recall whatever took place. Yet she could feel her legs starting to buckle and tentatively reached for the wall behind her.
"You know John, maybe it is a good thing we're here alone. Maybe being alone with me will make you comfortable enough to answer a question I've had for a long time."
Prescott bowed his head as he reached out to steady her.
"Planning to rape me again," she asked bluntly as she stared down at the hand on her arm.
"Rape you," he said, as he dropped her arm as if it was on fire. "Brooke, I never took you for an emotionally disturbed woman, but when you say things like that, I have to wonder..."
Prescott's surprise gave her an opportunity to return to the kitchen without interference. Once behind the counter she felt with her foot for one of the knives that had fallen on the floor.
"You're the one with emotional problems if you think I've forgotten about that day at the house," she retorted. "You know, I've met some real slime balls being an assistant district attorney, but you take the cake. I mean, you come back into Sam's life after all but writing him off and then drug his fiancée, just so you can ...what? That's my question John, so that you can what? Rape me? Hurt him? Both? You tell me."
Prescott looked around the room and moved towards the liquor table once near the door.
"Can't I pour you a drink?"
Malinowski rolled her eyes in disbelief.
"Gee John, I think I'll pass. I'm sure you understand why."
"Brooke, I don't know what you think happened that day," he said carefully as he set the bourbon bottle down. "But I assure you anything that happened, happened because we both wanted it to."
Malinowski stared at him in disbelief, finally reaching down and picking up one of the fallen knives.
"My God. I must be an idiot. I actually thought you might have something to say that would explain what you did. You're just like every rapist I ever prosecuted. You think I wanted it," she said with disgust. "Is that what you tell all your victims? Is that why you…"
Prescott looked sharply at his former sister in law, seeing the realization in her eyes.
"If you think I had anything to do with what happened to Lori, you had better get that thought out of your mind girl," he said coldly. "I mean it Brooke. You may have some crazy ideas about something that happened over a decade ago, but you could do some real damage with an unfounded allegation like that one... damage to yourself, as well as to Jack McCoy. Maybe you better think about that before you decide to share that disillusion of yours with anyone other than myself."
"You know what you did to me was anything but consensual, you bastard," she replied bitterly.
She tightened her grip on the knife in her hand, as Prescott joined her in the kitchen.
"If you hadn't loved every second of it, I might be concerned with such an accusation," he responded curtly. "Maybe you'd be able to remember our lovemaking more accurately if we hadn't been interrupted that day."
"Maybe I'd be able to remember the crime more accurately, if you hadn't put drugs in my drink," she countered sharply.
"Honey, we both had a lot to drink that day," he said reaching for her suddenly. "No one needed any drugs to induce either of us to take our clothes off."
"Son of a bitch," she hissed as she raised her free hand.
Prescott laughed softly as he blocked her intended blow and pulled her to him.
"You always did have a lot of fire, Brooke. Maybe that's why I couldn't wait for you to tire of my tried and true brother. Make no mistake; you would have tied of Sam. It was just a matter of time. Just like you'll tier of Jack McCoy."
"You know I loved your brother," she said angrily as she tried to break free of his embrace. "You were at the funeral, though God only knows why."
"I came to pay my respects," he said coolly. "Although you wouldn't know that, since you wouldn't get within twenty feet of me, that day. Too bad, too. I thought maybe we'd have a chance for a private reunion, after the burial was over."
"You disgust me," she said giving him a shove.
Prescott laughed as he knocked the knife out of her hand and grabbed her by the neck.
"And you amuse me, Brooke. You and that 'whole heart to one man' routine you think you do so well," he said as he pressed his lips to hers.
Malinowski's earlier fears gave way to the rage she felt; at his intrusion into her life, his easy lies, and his arrogant threats towards those she held dear. She did her best not to gag as his tongue explored her mouth, while a hand explored her body, the other pinning her to the counter. She let herself go limp, hoping to trick Prescott into thinking she had given up.
She felt his grip loosen slightly, as he laughed softly. Without warning she bit down as hard as she could, locking her jaw, as he yelped in pain and shock. She held on until she could taste the blood that had begun to ooze from his tongue. Giving him a shove she dashed out of the kitchen and to the night table across the loft.
"You bitch, you fucking little cunt," he hissed as he used his handkerchief to try to stop the flow, as he came towards her. "Who do you think you're dealing with? I'll take Sam and your precious Jack McCoy so far down-"
"Just get the hell out before you make me use this," she shouted, as she pointed the hand gun at him.
"What happened to Sam's quaint notion of not letting the bad guy's intimidate you into carrying a weapon?"
"Went out the window when I thought the bad guys had killed him. I mean it John. If you read the papers, you know I'm not bluffing."
Prescott stayed where he was. He took the cloth from his mouth and thoughtfully looked down at it.
"Stay away from me John and as far as the people I care about go? If you go after either Sam or Jack, I swear I'll expose you for what you are. I'll do what I should have done years ago-"
"And why exactly didn't you, all those years ago," he asked smugly. "You can cut the crap, Brooke. All you have on me are vague recollections and circumstantial evidence. I know you have no DNA evidence. I flushed the condom myself. Besides, if you'd had anything you were absolutely sure about, you would have gone to my brother, if not the police. "
"What label would you give today's little encounter," she sneered, "vague recollection or circumstantial evidence? I can have an SVU detective here in under ten minutes-"
"Don't sound so sure of yourself, Brooke. Nobody saw me come in and nobody will see me go out," he said smoothly as he started towards the door. "If you call anyone it will be your word against mine and I guarantee I will have an airtight alibi for our time together before the good officers leave the precinct house."
"Stay where you are."
Prescott turned to face her with a knowing look, while he reached for the door knob.
"You won't shoot an unarmed man. Even Samantha Weaver had a loaded gun. No, you won't shoot me unless you believe your life is in danger, Brooke. Part of that moral code you and Sam were so smug about, all those years ago. I came here hoping we could make this a ….amicable reunion... clearly that isn't the case. Get McCoy to close that investigation or things will be even less amicable the next time I deal with either of you."