A/N: With thanks to RebeccaInley for her beta

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Officers of the Court


Branch heard McCoy out in silence, only the expressions of surprise, disbelief, and finally anger that chased each other across his face letting McCoy know that the DA had even heard his halting story.

"I'll plead guilty, of course," McCoy finished. "At arraignment. Straight to sentencing, that should minimize – "

"You'll do nothing of the sort," Branch said, cutting him off. "You'll do nothing at all except sit your ass down in that chair and not make things any worse for the office."

"Arthur – "

"Sit!" Branch roared at him, and McCoy sat. As soon as he did he realized how glad he was to be off his feet. He ran one shaking hand over his face, hearing Branch making a phone call somewhere on the other side of the buzzing in his ears. Don't, John, don't –

I'll plead guilty, whatever Branch says, McCoy thought dully. Face up to it. To what I've done. To what I've become.

Get this over with.

He heard the door open and tried to raise his head to see who had come in but the movement made the room spin crazily around him. Branch was at the other end of a long tunnel of darkness and seemed to be moving further away, his lips moving, his voice lost in the buzzing growing louder and louder –

A sharp exclamation by someone he couldn't see, and then a firm hand on his shoulder, and the cool lip of a glass against his mouth. Water.

He drank. The buzzing receded a little, the room's rocking slowed.

"Jack, can you hear me?" Regan asked, taking the glass from his lips.

McCoy managed to make a noise of acknowledgement. Regan's fingers brushed his cheek, cool and reassuring. He steadied his hand enough to take the glass from her and drain it.

"Better?" Regan asked as he lowered the glass.

"Yes," McCoy said, and she smiled, relief breaking through the impersonal kindness she wore as a mask when something called for a response from Officer Reagan, rather than ADA Markham. She touched the back of her fingers to his forehead.

"You coming down with something?" she asked.

"I wish," McCoy told her, and she frowned.

"You look like crap, Jack," Branch said. "And I wish I could tell you to take the day, but I don't think that's an option. Ms Markham, did you know about this?"

"That Mr. McCoy was sick?" Regan asked. "I thought this morning – "

"That Mr. McCoy is planning to plead guilty to charges of felony assault."

"Plead guilty?" Regan said, staring at Branch and then turning the same look of incredulity on McCoy. "What?"

"I take it you didn't know," Branch said, dropping into his chair. "Even though I understand your signature is on the Complaint form."

"Jack told me to write it up, to write up Keri Dyson, I thought – " Regan turned back to McCoy "I thought – it was a plan, Jack, a strategy?" she asked him. When he said nothing she went on, her voice beginning to quaver: "Wasn't it? Jack?"

"No," McCoy told her, and watched the color drain from her face. "Look, Regan, Keri brought me the evidence. The charges have to be filed. As an officer of the court, I couldn't do anything else."

"Bullshit," Regan snapped, voice tight with anger. "If you'd kicked that to someone else you know very well they would have held off on the charges pending investigation and maybe even until the Grand Jury – "

She was leaning over him as she spoke, eyes blazing, and McCoy pushed himself to his feet, forcing her to step back and look up to meet his gaze.

"And why should they hold off?" he demanded. "Why should I get special treatment?"

"Unverified charges with serious consequences warrant further investigation regardless who they're made against," Regan retorted, not backing away. "I would never have put that complaint in the system if I'd known – "

"I know," McCoy said quietly. "I know. That's why I didn't tell you."

Regan stared at him, comprehension dawning in her eyes. "Well fuck you too," she said at last, very evenly. "And how are we going to get you out of this mess?"

"That's a damn good question, Ms Markham," Branch said. He slapped his hand down on his desk. "Dammit, Jack! The paperwork is in the system. You know how it would look if this office declines to prosecute?"

"Yes," McCoy said. "That's why I made sure it was in the system before I came to talk to you."

"Yet again the great Jack McCoy makes an end-run around procedure, is that it?' Branch said.

"No – that's not – I didn't want you put in the position of having to make the decision – " McCoy protested.

"You're in no shape to make this kind of decision," Regan said. "And what's more, you have no right to make this kind of decision. It should be up to the ADA who catches the call – "

"And you caught the call," McCoy pointed out.

"You picked me to catch the call because you knew you could flim-flam me into following your lead!" There was an edge to Regan's voice McCoy had never heard before, and he thought he could see tears standing in her eyes. Tears of pure rage, probably, he thought. "Because I'm too damn stupid to see through you, right?"

"Not stupid," McCoy said quietly. "But yes, I knew you'd follow my lead."

His admission took the heat out of Regan's indignation. "Why, Jack?" she asked softly.

"I'm going to plead guilty – and I don't want the whole thing drawn out by some junior ADA trying to curry favor by stretching the rules," McCoy said.

"You are not going to plead guilty," Branch said.

"You can't instruct a defendant how to plead," McCoy said quickly.

"Do you think that a guilty plea will get you out of jail time?" Branch asked. "I can't be seen to do that kind of favor. And you know what will happen to you in jail. Hell, Jack, half the worst criminals in the state's prisons were sent there by you. What do you think is going to happen when you're locked up with them?"

"I'm not asking for a favor, Arthur," McCoy said. "Or looking for a deal."

"I'll tell you now, no prosecutor in this office will accept a guilty plea from you," Branch said. "I won't have a whiff of backroom dealing around this. It'll all be out in the open, in open court. Justice will be done, and justice will be seen to be done."

The thought made McCoy dizzy. He'd thought the worst of it would be the sentence. It was too easy to imagine the grill door swinging shut, for once not letting him out but locking him in, but if I can't do the time I shouldn't have done the crime. His mind had jumped right past the possibility of sitting at the bar table on the wrong side of the aisle while a judge and jury and a prosecution team made up of his colleagues and god-knew how many reporters listened to Keri Dyson tell them exactly what had happened, exactly what kind of man he'd turned out to be … his stomach twisted and he swallowed hard.

"Fine," he managed to say. "I'll represent myself. I'll offer no evidence. You can have your show, Arthur."

Branch shook his head. "A lawyer who represents himself has a – "

"A fool for a client, I know," McCoy finished harshly. "I think we've all established I've fallen a little short of the wisdom of Solomon!"

"You want to be an idiot?" Branch said. "Fine! Dammit, Jack, after all the times I've bent over backwards for you and your quixotic crusades and your high-and-wide calls and your eleventh-hour hail mary passes … Always leaving the mess for someone else to clean up. Always leaving it up to someone else to save this office from the consequences. To save you from the consequences. Well, not this time. You want to hang yourself, I'm happy to help you. Hell, I'll pay for the rope. In fact, I'm going to put my second best tenth floor prosecutor on your case. Ms Markham, be ready to arraign Mr. McCoy this afternoon."


.oOo.