"How could you do it Danielle," Brooke Malinowski demanded as she stormed passed her ex-husband and into Danielle Melnick's living room.

After watching Jack McCoy fitfully toss and turn for the better part of the previous evening, Malinowski knew the truest way to fulfill her promise to her fiancée that she would '..see that appropriate steps' were taken, was to appropriately dress down one of his oldest and dearest friends.

After hearing McCoy's story, Malinowski had called her assistant and asked him to alert not only the DA office's investigative staff, but the Suffolk County sheriff's office, as well. She wanted all the evidence in the Crawford case gone over again with a fine tooth comb, especially the information about the teenage son.

Although she was willing to give Melnick and her client the benefit of the doubt professionally, it took her all of two seconds to hail a cab and head for Melnick's building after McCoy kissed her goodbye that morning and pulled into traffic to start his journey to Maine.

Even though it was eight forty five on a Saturday morning, she felt confident that if her ex-husband were the one to answer the intercom, she could easily get up to Melnick's apartment. Sure enough, upon hearing her voice, a weary Prescott buzzed her in. A decision he regretted the moment he saw he expression on his former wife's face, when he opened the door.

"Now darlin'," he began as he tightened the belt of his robe,"don't go gettin' all upset."

"Don't 'now darlin'' me Sam," she snapped as she looked around the elegant room. "If you won't get her out here, I'll get her out here myself."

As she started towards the hall that she assumed led to the master bedroom, Prescott stepped in front of her.

"Now Mal, you know that's the last thing you want to do. That's the quickest way to give Danielle real grounds to get you removed as the prosecutor on the Crawford case and you know it," he said as he took her arm and started towards the kitchen. "'Sides, she isn't here, you just missed her."

"If Danielle's is gone at this hour," she said skeptically, "why are you so anxious to keep out me of the bedroom? Sam, you can't protect her forever, especially after that idiotic ..."

"You doubt my word," he asked in surprise, as her began pouring coffee for each of them. "When have I ever been anything less than honest with you?"

Malinowski reached for the crème on the counter and gave him a look that made him blush.

"I meant besides faking my death and letting you think you were a widow for five years. My God Mal, one lie in eight years of marriage …are you ever gonna let me live it down," he joked with a wink, as he handed her a spoon. "Neither of us got to the market yesterday. She went to get breakfast."

Despite the rage she felt towards his lover, Malinowski gace him a reluntant smile a she stirred her coffee.

"I'll let the whole 'you faked your death and left me' thing go, if you tell how much she's told you about the lengths she's gone to get her client off."

"I know enough to have already warned my sweet Danielle Rose to run quickly and carry big stick in anticipation of her next encounter with you," he murmured as he sat next to her at the counter.

"It's not funny Sam. I don't give a damn whether her client is willing to take a plea to save her kid or not. Putting Jack through all of this nonsense… first the business with SVU and now this back door tactic to let me know her theory of the crime…not only does it make me question anything your 'sweet Danielle Rose' has ever told me, it makes me want to go to Judge Bradley myself with a charge of hindering prosecution."

"Now who's being less than truthful," he said flatly.

One of the things that had drawn him to his former wife was her sense of fair play. Prescott couldn't image...no matter what words came out of her mouth... that Malinowski could ever feel good about convicting any defendant she thought might be innocent.

"Just because her client says the son did it doesn't make it so," she said stubbornly, as she fingered the ring on her left hand.

"But you are checking it out, aren't you?"

"Only because I want all my ducks in a row so there are no grounds for an appeal later."

"I'm sure that's the only reason you're taking an interest," he said making no attempt to hide his amusement.

"She had no business comparing this case with the trauma Jack suffered as a child. She's lucky I didn't tell Jack's daughter the whole story. If I had, I have no doubt Becky would have beat me to your door this morning."

"You're sure you made that choice only to spare Miss McCoy's feelings, not because you know there might be some merit to..."

"I didn't tell Becky because she'll have enough to deal with when Jack arrives at her place. Besides, this is Jack's story to tell," she said earnestly,"not mine. It's bad enough I gave Becky a head's up about the whole mess with his parents….I'm sure it's a story Jack had no intention of sharing with his daughter…at least until Danielle decided to maneuver him into drudging it all up again."

"Honey, did you ever think for even a minute, it might not be entirely bad for Jack to have an opportunity to come to terms with what happened? I mean, that's a heavy burden to carry alone, having nearly shot your own father."

Malinowski thought about how shaken McCoy had been the previous night. Although it had pained her to see him so full of guilt and self doubt…to watch him relive such a horrifying moment in his life… she knew such a revelation had brought them even closer together.

When they finally laid, down it was nearly midnight. McCoy's lovemaking held such an air of malaise that Malinowski had stopped him just a few minutes after he had finished undressing her. Silently, she held his hands away from her body, gently kissing the tips of his fingers. She continued to hold his gaze as she draped her body over his, wrapping her limbs around him to embrace him.

"The first time we spent the night together, I said you were a good man. I still believe that Jack. You should, too."

"I could have killed him Brooke," a barely audible voice whispered into her ear."If I had…"

"If you had, it wouldn't have meant you would have been wrong," she interjected; thinking like a woman in love, as opposed to an experienced prosecutor. "It wouldn't have made you a bad person…God knows you had provocation. It doesn't make you a bad son, Jack."

"It makes me him... his son ...in the most basic sense," he said lifting her chin. "It's a factor you can't ignore if you're going to be my wife, Brooke. You can't keep explaining away, looking the other way…"

She shook her head stubbornly, unwilling to let the conversation take the turn he had chosen.

"The only way this changes things, is by its power to cause you to doubt yourself," she said solemnly. "That's how you give your father power over you from the grave. Don't let him win, Jack. Our love is stronger he is. Than his sickness, his hate, whatever label you want to give it."

She could feel her eyes begin to moisten, as she remembered the tears in her fiancée's eyes, before he pressed his lips to hers and began to make love to her again. Joyful desire rapidly replacing his melancholy demeanor.

"Sometimes when you jar someone with a heavy burden, all you do is succeed causing them to spill what they'd been balancing so carefully," she said, addressing her ex-husband as she set her coffee cup down."I've got to get out to Long Island to see what the Sheriff's found out about the Crawford kid. When you see Danielle, tell her it's going to take more than chocolate torte's to repair the damage this time around."

Prescott nodded contritely, as he followed Malinowski towards the front door.

"Will do, darlin'," he said as he turned the knob. "Good luck. No matter what the Sheriff tells you I have no doubt you'll do the right thing."

Malinowski flushed uncomfortably, knowing her personal beliefs about the Crawford cases were even more muddled than they had been at the start.

"One more thing, Sam. That business about the bedroom when I got here? With Danielle safely at the market, why did you make such a point of keeping me from just going in there myself and seeing she was already gone?"

Prescott looked down at the floor bashfully. Malinowski leaned back on the door frame, intrigued by her ex husband's sudden shyness.

"Sam?"

"Just didn't think it would do," he said at last.

"What? What wouldn't do?"

"Temptin' fate by startin' this conversation in …. bein' alone in the bedroom with you. That's not somethin' I wasn't willin' to chance Danielle walkin in on. Not somethin' I was willin' to tempt fate with a second time," he said never looking up from the floor.