Identity

Reality Bites

Rating: PG-13

Not mine ~ they're all just using my head for a playground!  :0)

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Shortly, Jordan pulled up to the Pogue and parked the Explorer.  Yeah, this had definitely been the best option.  This guy needed to be set straight, and here she'd have Max's watchful eyes on her.  Definitely the right decision.

"This it?"  Jack looked out the window.

"Yep.  Come on.  I think we need to talk about some stuff."  She hopped out and shut the door.  Jack followed her around the corner and into the Pogue.  "Nice place," he said as he looked around.

"Thanks!  I think so too."  Jordan scanned the room and found what she was looking for.  "Hey, you see that table over there in the corner?  Why don't you go and grab it and I'll get us some drinks.  Draft alright with you?"

"Well. . .  Sure.  It's fine."  It wasn't Jack's drink of choice, but it would do.  "Do you need any money?"

"Nah.  It's ok.  I know the owner."  Jordan again pointed Jack in the direction of the table and walked down to the bar, where Max was standing, watching her.  She leaned over the bar and gave him a hug.  "Hey Dad!"

"Welcome home Jordan."  Max wasn't quite sure what to say.  Who was this person with his daughter?  "Um, sweetheart. . .?"

"Oh, the person with me?"

"Yeah."

"He's a District Attorney from New York and. . ."

"Jordan, don't you think he's a little. . .well, old for you?"

"Dad!  Gross!  It's SO not that.  It's. . .complicated."

"Complicated how?"  Max knew Jordan all too well ~ complicated was not generally a good thing.

"Apparently I look just like his former assistant who was killed in a car accident."  Jordan rolled her eyes.  This was really getting old.

"Alright, but. . ."

"And apparently they were more than just co-workers.  And for some reason he's got in his head that she faked her death and. . ."

"Jordan. . ."  Max's voice contained equal parts of warning and concern.

"But everyone else believed me.  My prints don't match.  Nothing fits.  I think he's beginning to see it.  But he followed me to my building and I decided to bring him here so we could have a chat."

"And so I could keep an eye on things.  Good girl."  Max was relieved.  For once Jordan was showing some common sense.

"Thanks.  Can I get two drafts?"  Jordan looked towards the table where Jack was settling in.

"Sure baby.  You want me to bring them over?  Or. . .?"

"I'll take them now.  Thanks Dad."  Jordan collected the mugs and headed towards the table.

"Thank you."  Jack looked up as Jordan approached and set the drinks on the table.  She made sure to choose a chair away from Jack with a clear escape routs should that become necessary.

"No problem."

"Was that the owner you were talking to?"  Jack had never been really good at small talk and he wished they could start into the meat of their conversation, but he sensed that this was going to be one talk he wasn't in control of.

"Yeah.  That's my dad.  He's a retired cop."  Might as well throw that little piece of information at him.

"I see."

"Yeah.  So. . ."  Jordan wasn't quite sure how to start this ball rolling.  "I'm told I look like a former assistant of yours?"  Stupid, she knew, but it worked.

"You do.  It's really amazing.  If it wasn't for the fingerprints. . .  It's just so hard to believe. . ."  For once, Jack found himself at a loss for words.

"She was more than your assistant, wasn't she?"

"Yes.  Claire was. . .  Hell, I had this reputation.  I'd slept with so many of my assistants the DA didn't want to assign any females to me.  It never worked out and she always ended up leaving the office.  It. . .  I was surprised when he agreed to let Claire be my assistant."

"Tell me about her?"  Jordan was beginning to be genuinely curious.  This man seemed to have such a hard shell, yet this woman obviously touched him deeply.

"She was wonderful.  Beautiful, intelligent, energetic, passionate ~ she cared more about the cases we prosecuted than anyone I've ever seen.  Sometimes even more than I did.  She didn't take anything from anyone. . ."  Jack's voice trailed off, lost in his memories.

"It sounds like she and I would have gotten along.  Or killed each other one."  Jordan smiled briefly at Jack, who merely looked at her.  "I'm sorry.  Go ahead."

"I'm not really sure how it started.  We'd usually grab dinner or something after a case or a late night and one night. . .  Everything changed.  She wasn't just my assistant, one in a long line.  Claire was special ~ different.  I really could see myself settling down with her.  Not that it would have been fair ~ she would be about your age now I guess.  She always said the age thing didn't bother her.  But there were times I felt guilty.  She should have been with someone closer to her age.  I really loved her."

"What happened?"  Jordan was trying to be gentle, but she wanted to get to the bottom of this.

"There was an accident. . .  A drunk driver. . ."

Jordan shuddered.  She knew how brutal those kinds of accidents could be.  She looked at Jack and nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"We'd been arguing for a while before she. . .  There had been a case and she wanted to quit.  I saw that the system was eating her up ~ it can do that to anyone who's idealistic and holds onto those ideal even after years of working the system.  But I talked her out of it.  Convinced her to stay.  And then there were the days just before. . .She was adamantly anti-death penalty and I was radically for it.  The night before, we'd witnessed an execution.  It made her sick.  We didn't say a lot to each other on the way back to the city.  I gave her the day off, hoping she'd feel better later on after she'd had some rest and we'd had some time apart.  I kept trying to call her, but she wouldn't answer the phone or my pages.  I ended up in a bar, drunk as a skunk.  One of the detectives we worked with came in and we talked for a while.  He had club soda ~ recovering and all that.  I got tired of waiting and left.  The last thing I said about her before was 'to hell with her.'"  Jack choked back a sob.  "Apparently after I left, Lennie ~ the detective, the one you met in New York ~ fell off the wagon and started drinking.  Claire showed up later looking for me and offered to drive him home.  That's when the accident happened.  Some SOB plowed into her tiny car in a pick-up.  She never had a chance."

"I'm so sorry."  Jordan, in spite of being used to delivering this kind of news to grieving family, felt herself on the verge of tears at the story.

"Oh, they tried to save her at the hospital, but there were too many internal injuries.  Her mother and step-father made the decision to. . .to remove her from life support.  I was there, holding her hand when the machines went from a regular beat to a quicker beat to a flat line.  I. . ."  Jack stopped and swallowed hard.  "And I know that fact makes it even stranger that I would have such difficulty believing that you're not her."

"I can assure you, I'm not her.  Lennie filled me in a little about what had happened when we were in the city.  I was working here in the ME's office the year she was killed.  I'm so sorry."  There really wasn't a lot left to say.

"Thank you.  Rationally I know that Claire's gone.  But seeing you. . .I've been exhausted and I guess my mind just went over the edge.  Either that or I've seen too many bad soap operas."

"Yeah."  Jordan's voice was tender as she spoke.  "But Jack?"

"Yes?"

"If she loved you that much. . .  Don't you think she would have talked with you?  Leaving the office wouldn't have had to mean leaving you would it?"

"No."

"Then why would she have faked her own death?  She would have just told you the truth, quit the DA's office, found another job, and the two of you could have gone on like before."

"I know you're right.  I just. . .  I miss her so much.  I've never had an assistant like her before or since ~ and in since I only mean intellectually.  I haven't. . .it just hasn't felt right."

"I understand.  I know about losing someone you love and wanting them back. . ."  Jordan stopped.  She was not going to open herself up to this person.  No no.  She'd learned her lesson about opening up to strangers.  It hurt too much.

About that time, there was a commotion as Woody and Nigel burst through the door.  They'd gone to Jordan's apartment and finding both her and the Explorer gone, they went into full panic mode.  Thanks to some clear thinking by Nigel, they decided to see if she wasn't at the Pogue.

"Jordan!  Thank God you're ok!"  Woody ran over to the table where Jordan and Jack were sitting.  "You are ok, aren't you?"

"You don't have to worry,"  Jack chuckled.  "I couldn't do anything to hurt her.  Jordan was just setting me straight about some things about relationships and life.  Sometimes reality bites. . ."

Woody looked confused.  "Jordan was talking about relationships?"

"Yeah, farm boy.  I do know something about them you know."  Jordan got up and went down to the bar to refill her mug, leaving Woody standing there shaking his head.

"'Farm boy?'"  Jack looked at Woody.

"Don't ask."  Woody rolled his eyes.  "Anyway, Ms. Walcott asked me to take you to your hotel and see that things are in order.  Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah.  I'm ready."  Jack looked down towards the bar where Jordan was standing, talking with Max and Nigel.  The girl had a point, after all.  He sighed and wondered if this detective knew what he had.

"Jordan, I'll be back.  I need to run Mr. McCoy to his hotel."  Woody waved at Jordan on his way out.

"Ok.  I'll see you later."  Jordan turned back towards Max and rolled her eyes, a move not unnoticed by Nigel.

"You know, luv, maybe you should give him a break. . ."  Nigel really did like the lad, even if he was still a bit green.

"Who, me?"  Jordan winked at him.  "Come on.  Play pool with me?"

As she started towards the now-vacant pool table, Nigel looked at Max who chuckled and rolled his eyes as if to say, "Don't look at me!"  Jordan was his daughter after all.

. . .to be continued. . .