Nix and Nil


Office of EADA Jack McCoy

10th Floor, One Hogan Place

5 pm Saturday February 3rd 2007


McCoy turned the page of his file, ran his fingers through his hair, and made a note in the margin.

"Hey, Jack," Regan said from the doorway.

He looked up and smiled. "I didn't expect you in today."

"Mr Branch called me," she said. "Told me to be in his office by half-past five."

"How are you feeling?" McCoy asked.

She colored and looked down at her feet. "I've felt better."

Regan had still been deeply asleep when McCoy had left for the office, conscious of the files that had been piling up on his desk while he had been concentrating more on second-guessing Tracey Kibre than his own workload. He'd left her a note, couldn't find the key on top of the fridge but figured she wouldn't need to come and go.

She'd obviously been home and showered and changed, but to McCoy's informed eye the signs of her hangover were clear in the shadows beneath her eyes and the pallor of her skin.

If it hadn't been for Arthur Branch in the office down the hall he could have locked the door and pulled her down onto the couch right then and there.

It wasn't as if there weren't plenty of other women he could have – women in this building, a little further away from Branch's attention. Casey, maybe. Christine. That new ADA in Rackets, the blonde. Or others, a phone call away. Danielle. Carla Tyrell.

He wasn't interested in any of them. McCoy knew himself well enough to know it was partly because Branch had laid down the law. It had been the same with Sally, with Diane – with Claire. The thrill of transgression, the allure of forbidden fruit. And perhaps also the challenge he'd found in Regan's resistance. Certainly, she wasn't the most stunning beauty he'd pursued and taken to bed. If he'd met her for the first time beside Abbie Carmichael or Alex Cabot, he wouldn't have given Regan a second glance.

But for whatever reason, now that he had become aware of her, her lean limbs, her spare frame, he couldn't look at her without wanting to touch her, to trace the firm line of her jaw or feel her square shoulders beneath his hands, just as now he knew the complexity of the woman behind the junior ADA façade he couldn't stop seeing her strength and her vulnerability, her fragility and resilience.

And now he knew all her secrets, the reason for her reluctance, and just how to overcome it. Not now, but soon, perhaps tonight, he would touch her, feel her rangy body against his. He shifted slightly in his chair at the thought.

"Jack," Regan said awkwardly, and then closed the door behind her. "Jack, last night – did I do or – or say – anything I shouldn't have?"

"You don't remember?" McCoy said, taken aback.

"Not much past the fifth tequila," Regan admitted.

"You – " McCoy paused, choosing his words. "You don't have anything to worry about," he said at last. "Nothing at all." She doesn't know what she did and said with a skinful of Dutch courage. He'd find the right time to tell her.

Regan opened her mouth to say something further, but was interrupted by the side door opening. Arthur Branch looked from McCoy to Regan and frowned.

"My office, Jack," he said curtly.

McCoy glanced at Regan, shrugged, and followed his boss through the door.

When they were in Branch's office with the door closed, Branch sank into his chair and thumped his desk with his fist. "Keep the door of your office open, Jack. Think how it looks."

"I don't care how it looks," McCoy said stubbornly.

"EADA screwing junior ADA, think about how that looks in the papers," Branch said. "Adam Schiff might have let you fish off the company pier, but times have changed."

"Well, maybe I should return Vanessa Galliano's calls," McCoy retorted. "Your EADA screwing a defense attorney, would that look better in the papers?"

"For chrissakes, Jack!" Branch spluttered. "Why can't you just find yourself a nice cocktail waitress?"

"Because strange as the idea might seem to you, I actually like to talk to women."

"Nobody has any problems with you talking," Branch said. He heaved himself to his feet and strode to the door, opening it. "Ms Markham? Can you come in here, please?"

Regan obeyed, stopping just inside the door, smoothing her jacket nervously.

"Ms Markham, I've told you this before, but let me make myself absolutely clear. Your position in this office is tenuous at best. Any scandal will make it untenable. You should both remember that."

Regan nodded, shooting a quick glance at McCoy.

"You can start getting yourself back into my good graces right now," Branch said to her. "The Manhattan Retired Police Officers benefit is tonight. You'll be there, and you'll make a speech introducing me as the key-note speaker."

"I'm not much of a politician," Regan said.

"You weren't much of a lawyer when I hired you, but you seem to have learned on the job," Branch said.

"I don't know what to say!" Regan protested.

"Don't worry," Branch said. He took a sheet of paper from his pocket and held it out to her. "It's all in here."

"I'm not sure – " Regan said, looking at the paper. "I don't know – this stuff about Seattle. I'd rather keep that private."

"Everything comes out in the end," Branch said. He looked meaningfully at McCoy. "Sooner or later." He picked up his coat and went to the door. "Coming, Ms Markham?"

"Five minutes," Regan said. "To learn this."

"The car will be downstairs," Branch said. "And a couple of smart lawyers like you two – don't forget Nix v Williams."

Regan looked puzzled.

"The principle of inevitable discovery," McCoy said softly as the door closed behind Branch.

Regan looked down at the paper in her hands and then up at McCoy.

"I had the feeling this was coming," she said.

"Arthur can't force you to make a speech at a political fundraiser," McCoy said.

"I think he can," Regan said. "I think he can do a lot of things."

"Are you worried about what he said?" McCoy asked, with a sinking feeling simple disappointment couldn't explain. "About scandal?"

"I want to keep my job, Jack," Regan said.

"Do you really think you have to make that choice?" he asked, moving a little closer to her.

Regan paused. She looked at him, and he saw her answer in her eyes before she bit her lip and lifted her chin. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I really do."

McCoy held her gaze for a moment, and then reached past her to open the door. He heard her breath catch as his arm brushed hers. When she turned to leave he ushered her through the door, one hand lightly on the small of her back. Regan hesitated at the threshold, looking back at him. For a moment he thought she would smile, would say what Arthur doesn't know won't hurt him.

Would say let's get that drink after all, Jack.

She did smile, but sadly. McCoy let his hand fall to his side.

Regan touched his arm gently, and leaned forward. Her lips brushed his cheek, saying friends only as clear as any words ever could. Then she turned and walked away from him down the corridor, chin up.

She didn't look back.


.oOo.


fin


A/N: Please consider leaving a review – it's the only payment we writers get.

If you have enjoyed this story, you may enjoy the earlier stories in the series, Curiosity Killed, Should Have Known, Ghosts and Come Again To Carthage, all on this site. Also, if you have enjoyed Inevitable Discovery, keep an eye out for the next story in the series, Fruit of the Poison Tree.