Two small tissue packets and an hour and a half later, Donnelly watched as Novak disappeared into Cenrtal Park and the afternoon crowd. After a short internal debate as to whether she should go to the gym and sweat out the stress of the morning or hiking back to Tavern on the Green to drown her sorrows, the judge opted for the solitude of someplace dark and quiet to plot her next move.

"What a mess," Donnelly said under her breath after the bartender sat a martini glass down in front the judge.

She glanced at her watch and realized if she didn't call Don Cragen soon, she was going have one more problem to deal with. Yet, she knew if she called, he'd sense her distress and immediately presses her for answers…answers that would involve yet one more person in what she viewed as a disaster run a mock. The commander of the Manhattan SVU had enough problems without of his own, without adding one of the DA's problems to the pile.

After swearing softly, Donnelly picked up the glass and saluted the empty lounge.

"Well, here's to you Jack. Maybe if you'd listened to me, this mess would never have happened," she quietly declared before bringing the glass to her lips.

As she drank her martini, Donnelly sat back in the high leather chair and let her thoughts drift back to that night … the night she was working late and had just started to review the last case in her 'In' tray, when she looked up to find her ex-husband darkening her door way…

"Don't tell me you're here to go another round about Rebecca," Donnelly began, after hearing a light tap on her already open door and finding the tall figure that held a helmet in one hand and a satchel in the other, waiting for permission to enter. "Jack, it's high time our daughter learns there are consequences-"

"I'm not here about Rebecca. I'm here about a case," he said as he closed the door behind him.

Elizabeth Donnelly stared up at the haggard figure that was now looming over her cluttered desk. The senior Sex Crimes ADA warily slipped the wide black rimmed glasses from her face to the center file she had been reading.

"Then you must be here about the Carelli plea," Donnelly continued, with a condescending snicker. "If Adam thinks sending my ex-husband down here is going to make me any less opposed to dealing that douche bag down to -"

Donnelly could see see his annoyance in the glance he shot her, but she didn't care. She knew how much McCoy hated to hear her talk that way… coarse, hard; vulgar were the words he would use to describe it… which was exactly why she'd done it.

Although the pair was a year shy surviving their daughters teenage years without coming to blows physically, those years had strained what had been an amiable and restrained relationship, between the former spouses. While the pair still worked hard to put the needs of their child before their own, the manipulations of their daughter had left both of them wary and worn down. Often, one or both of them found themselves launching pre-emptive strikes to raise a firm roadblock to a decision that was not mutual regarding their wild child.

"Adam didn't send me," he uncomfortably snapped as he moved her glasses aside and picked up the file.

"If you're here to put in your two cents worth, it's my case Jack and even if you are Executive Assistant-"

"If you'd just listen for a minute, maybe you be better able to assess which knife is the right one for tonight's round of slice and dice," he shot back in a tone that told her there was more to his visit than a disagreement about a case. "It's not Carelli that brought me down to your dungeon. I want to talk about the Graham case."

Donnelly laughed softly as she pointed to the chair across from her.

"Dungeon, huh? I guess that makes us even for the douche bag remark," she joked in a tone that was almost cordial. "Alright, the Graham case. I know you were the one that she called when they brought her in to the ER. Since Becky hasn't mentioned a 'Rita' or 'Irene', I'm assuming Miss Graham is a friend of yours, as opposed to something more?"

"Rita and I have worked on several cases together since she started with Shelter Services a few years ago. She's a nice kid, Liz."

"I agree and I'm sorry, Jack. It's never easy to see someone you personally know be victimized," she said gently. "You have the case file. Everything we have is in it. From what the detectives at the 1 6 tell me, there's a chance-"

"She wants it dropped Liz," he interjected before opening the file.

"What do you mean 'she wants it dropped'? Jeffries and Munch just need a little time-"

"I just came from the hospital. Her fiancée was there… some hot shot political hack named Shalvoy. He talked a good game about wanting to see the animal that did this put in a cage, you know, before he 'did something he'd regret'."

"Go on," Donnelly said as she rolled her eyes at the machoistic comment they had both heard more times than they could count.

"Once he left, Rita begged me to get my hands on the records… including any copies there might be. They're getting married right before the spring election and she's afraid the rape will be sensationalized and end up hurting Shalvoy's chances of being elected to the state Senate," he explained as he flipped through the pictures of Rita Graham's battered and broken body.

"Jack, she's a victims advocate," Donnelly exclaimed. "How can she think –"

"Because she's seen firsthand what a rape victim goes through on the stand," he said before tossing the file back on the desk. "She seems to think if defense counsel breaks her on the stand, somehow it's going to reflect on Shalvoy."

"It sounds like she's still in shock to me…she's not thinking clearly Jack," Donnelly remarked as she thumbed through the photos all the while shaking her head. "Not that I blame her given the extent of her injuries. She's lucky to be alive. Do you think the fiancée put her up to this?"

"It's possible," McCoy admitted as he stood up and restlessly began to pace. "But, Rita's always seemed fragile. I didn't think she'd last this long as an advocate. She feels the pain of the victims too deeply… maybe that's why now that she's become a victim herself…," he continued before helpless throwing his hands up. " All I know is she wants the whole thing to go away. I've already talked to the investigating officiers, Liz. Without her testimony, if and when the time comes to go to trial, you haven't got a prayer."

"Jack, did you even try to talk her out of this," Donnelly demanded; immediately regretting the question. She raised a hand of surrender to acknowledge McCoy's 'are you kidding me' expression. "Well, it doesn't matter. The charges are filed. Unless Miss Graham wants to face charges of her own-"

"Come on, Liz. We've both used that bluff more times than I can count and its worked fewer times than I have fingers," he countered knowingly. "You're case is dead in the water without Rita."

"Well, if that's how it is, why didn't she contact the attorney of record," Donnelly demanded with false bravado; clutching at the few remaining straws she had. "You know I have to signed off on the paperwork, why didn't you tell her to call me-"

"I tried," he said with a defeated sigh. "She said facing you… a strong woman who in her words is 'ten times the advocate for victims' that she ever was… would just make what she had to do harder. She asked me to have you send her paperwork-"

"Jesus Jack, when did you become this woman's messenger," Donnelly demanded in frustration.

McCoy pondered the question, as he leaned against the single window in the office. After a few moments, he turned towards the window.

"The night she was raped and nearly beaten to death. The night she had the ER call not her fiancée, not her mother in Vermont, not even another victim's advocate, but me. Liz, we've both seen enough victims to know how significant that was," he explained as he turned to face her. "As a prosecutor, I'm appalled that she doesn't want to go forward with the charges. As a man...as a father... I have to admit, the idea of this woman going through the ordeal of a trial appalls me more. You used to tell me part of empowering a victim is allowing that victim to control as much of the case as they can. You and I both know part of that empowerment is allowing the victim to decide if the case goes forward or not. I'm asking you to help me give Rita back some sense of control."

"Oh Jack," she softly whispered before closing the file. "Fine. I'll send her the paperwork in the morning."

"Thanks Liz," McCoy replied with a relieved smile, before he returned to the front of the desk to lean across and give his ex-wife an unexpected kiss on the cheek. McCoy watched with amusement as Donnelly ran a thoughtful hand over the spot he had kissed. "Since this seems to have turned into one of our more civil moments, I want you to know, I realize you were right about Rebecca and the pot thing. I know it wasn't easy for you to leave her in lock up for the night. I never should have allowed her to sway me into questioning your judgment when she got the night Sargent at the 1 9 to let her make that second phone call."

Donnelly smiled up at him and did something she couldn't remember doing in years. McCoy's smiled turned into an ear to ear grin, when he felt her reach for his hand.

"We both could have done better than night…we probably could have done better the last seven years…as well," she added with a chuckle. "Maybe when she turns twenty you and I can find our way back to being friends again."

"Friendly always. But friends," he replied with a gleam in his eye that reminded her of another time."Sorry love, it's just not in me," he continued before kissing her forehead.

"Always the charmer, aren't you McCoy," she teased as he started for the door.

"Well, I don't know how 'charming' you'll think I am in a second," he said as he leaned against the door, looking as if he'd just remembered something he'd forgotten. "About the paperwork… the case files and DD5's-"

"Oh no Jack, don't go there and don't even think about asking me to go there for you," Donnelly warned. "It's one thing to make it easier for her to drop the charges, but I'm not willing to risk jail time, as well as being disbarred, for anyone. Not for a victim, not even for you."

"You know me better than that; I'd never ask you to take that kind of risk. When you're done with the file, just send it up to me," he said causally as he reached for the door handle. "I'll do what needs to be done."

Before she had a chance to argue, McCoy had turned on his heel and vanished down the hall.

Donnelly stared blindly into the bottom of her martini glass as she regretfully shook her head.

She knew exactly were that file would end up, along with any and all paperwork McCoy could get his hands on. Unwilling to stand by and watch her former husband risk not only his own career, but the reputation of the DA's office should his uncharacteristic 'act of kindness' ever be discovered, Donnelly made a mental note to copy any and all documents she could get her hands on that pertained to the Graham case. Once they were in her possession, she had taken them to a high end print shop and personally copied each and everyone.

The copies had gone to McCoy to keep him blissfully unaware that the original were safety tucked away in the back of her file drawer… as insurance should anyone ever ask about the suddenly non-existent case.

Only to be forgotten until Novak's innocent discovery, years later.