"It's not your fault. And, I don't mind telling you, it pisses me off that those had to be the first words out of my mouth, instead of 'God I love you, Jack.'"

McCoy could feel his lips turn upward, as he took a seat beside his fiancée and reached for her hand as he leaned close to her.

He gave her an inquiring look when she slid her hand out of his grasp and met his gaze with a look of stubborness.

"No," she said firmly."Not until I hear you say it and you make me believe you mean it."

"I love you, too" he said with amusement, as she moved her head carefully from side to side. "No, don't do that. You'll make your head hurt worse."

"You would know. I bet you're in the throes of a migraine right now,"she said softly, as she returned his smile."Now, tell me what I want to hear."

McCoy looked away as he bit his tongue. He knew it would be far from the first time he'd told a lie, personally or otherwise. But it was the first time he could remember out right lying to her. When he looked up, he had his best game face on and most charming smile firmly in place.

"We're both prosecutors, Brooke. I won't say I haven't felt guilty as hell since you were taken, but now that you're here, I'm just grateful to be having this conversation with you. I know this kind of danger is part of the job. Both of our jobs."

Malinowski grin widened until it hurt.

"Jack McCoy, I know you're a better liar than that. Your reputation precedes you, remember," she said as she put her hand in his. "I never blamed you, because it wasn't your fault. I won't be able to stand it if you can't forgive yourself; if you can't stop blaming yourself."

McCoy knew it wasn't the time for laying his guilt at Malinowski's feet. As hard as she was trying to reassure him, he could see how much pain she was in. The effort it took for her to move, told him she the last thing she needed to do was over exert herself.

He'd already bullied his way into getting his hands on the preliminary reports by law enforcement and the medical staff. He knew exactly what she was dealing with physically and emotionally; there was no way he was adding to it.

"I never had to lie to get what I wanted before," he replied with a roguish smile.

"And what exactly is it that you want now," she asked as fatigue began to overtake her.

"I want you to stop worrying about me and tell me why you've never knitted me a cap?"

"Knitted," she repeated, as her eyes widened in surprise."Where did you get the idea…"

"No, wait. You don't knit, you crochet," he said smugly; smiling at the success his attempt to change the subject had been."I know you hate the fedora, so why haven't you made me something to replace it?"

McCoy's eyes twinkled with undisguised delight at the sound of her soft, but audible, laughter.

"Cohen. I bet he's all ready been down to Yarnmart , in anticipation of my return," she said with a chuckle. "Be careful what you wish for. You haven't seen my 'projects', have you?"

"I'll bet you made Jake a hat," he said with a playful pout."He is your favorite person on the planet."

Malinowski knew what her lover was trying to do and she allowed him the momentary pleasure of thinking he'd succeeded in distracting her from her questions and her misery.

"No honey, you're really my favorite person on the planet," she said as she patted his hand.

"Then prove it, counselor."

"If I go to the trouble of blistering my index finger for this, you have to wear it," she warned. "To work. In front of people you know. But if you let on to anybody I do something as domestic as crafts, bad things will happen McCoy. No one ever knows I made it for you … Deal?"

Before McCoy could respond he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two, but Jack, I need to see you outside for just a second," Jeff Collins said.

"Jack I'm sorry, But thought it would be better if you heard it from me," Collins began a few minutes later.

McCoy waved the other man's apology away.

"What did Interpol say?"

"Apparently, the lead detective received a call from Sam Prescott's assistant at your states attorney's office, no more than an hour ago. Seems because Brooke crossed not only international, but state lines as well during her ordeal, your justice department is taking jurisdiction over the case against her captors."

McCoy nodded gravely as he thought about his discussion with the federal prosecutor, minutes before. After Prescott finished asking all of the expected questions about Malinowski and her condition; he had went on to inform McCoy of, not only the fact Prescott's office had taken jurisdiction in the prosecution of Malinowski's captor, but that Prescott would more than likely be handling the case himself.

It had taken every ounce of self control McCoy had not to thunder back a snide retort regarding the chain of events leading to such an outcome, as well as not to confront Prescott abut his motives for seeing such a move.

"Just a twist of fate that this case gets assigned to the Southern district, considering all the jurisdictional tug of war that goes on over any case that crosses at least three state lines,"McCoy asked shortly.

Prescott didn't even try to pretend the assignment was a coincidence. Instead his pale green eyes met McCoy's accruing glare, without a blink.

"I'd be lyin' to you Jack, if I didn't say I pulled quite a few strings and plan to pull several more, to see that justice is done in this case. You and I both know New York's death penalty could be in limbo indefinitely. When I get a conviction in federal court, I can pretty much guarantee this bastard will end up with a needle in his arm."

"Until Canada seeks extradition," McCoy said bluntly."Remember the initial crime took place..."

"Trust me Jack," Prescott said with annoying confidence."There are ways to lose a prisoner in the federal system until extradition is no longer a concern."

"And I thought you were supposed to be the moral man in Brooke's life," McCoy retorted incredulously.

"Morality has nothing to do with justice. There's nothing moral about what happened to Mal," the other man said before turning on his heel and walking away.

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By the time Malinowski had finished her hospital lunch of salad, jello, cheese sandwich, and milk her hospital room looked like a florist shop. Just as she opened the card that had been perched on the most recently delivered edition, a man in a three piece suit stepped up to hand her a vase filled with pink roses and laurel.

"Thanks, Sam I was wondering when you'd be back," Malinowski said as her ex-husband gave her a dutiful kiss on the cheek."I figured it would be the next time Jack was here, since you had so much fun yanking his chain yesterday."

"Aw Mal, it wasn't like that at all," he said as he reclaimed the vase and set beside the empty tray on the cart beside the bed. "I was just givin' McCoy a heads up on a case, that's all."

Malinowski started to nod and thought better of it, as she rubbed her forehead.

"Yeah, I heard Jack and Jeff talking about that. Sam, you know I appreciate what you want to do, but you need to just let the Canadians and Interpol-"

"Listen, I didn't come here to upset you. I can here to find out how you're feelin' and to see if there was anything else you wanted to tell me before the arraignment this afternoon."

"MRI came back negative for any fractures or internal bleeding. The worst of the injuries was a mild concussion. Looks like I'll be out of the hospital in a day. Maybe two at the most," she said cheerfully omitting the required pshy evaluation."Now, listen, Sam. If it were just a kidnapping count or even a kidnapping with intent to commit murder, maybe this would be do able. But come on. You can't expect me or the trial judge for that matter, to allow you to prosecute a case with me as a victim when you have counts like rape one, sodomy, kidnapping with intent to-"

"Stop it Brooke," Prescott said sharply."Stop rattlin' off charges like where talkin' about your caseload. This is you were talkin' about. That's why I want to spare you havin' to go through this with some prosecutor who doesn't know you from Eve and might plea bargain it down to get some leverage against one of this guy's bosses."

"Sam, that's what a prosecutor is supposed to do," she argued."Use the small fish to get to the big fish. That's how I nailed Esparaza way back when. That's how you nailed Valenski."

"This isn't the same thing," he said immediately regretting his words.

"It never is," he said continued, ignoring her disapproving stare, "when one of our own gets caught in the cross fire."

"Well maybe it should be," Malnowski said impatiently."These people pulled this off with their mastermind in a Russian prison. The more of them we put away, the tighter we'll seal off Rostov's pipeline."

Prescott shifted uncomfortably and began to rub his ear. If Rostov could engineer a kidnapping from prison several countries away, no one who'd crossed him was safe. The chances of another kidnapping would have been probable if not for the swiftness of Russian justice.

"Jack didn't tell you about the Russian, huh?"

Malinowski knew she hadn't given McCoy a chance to do much more than hold her hand and trade amusing remarks. Both of them were so concerned about the others emotional state, that neither even tried to talk about the kidnapping or the investigation.

"We were too busy trying to decide on a color for the cap I'm making Jack, to discuss anything else," she said with a smirk. "So, you tell me."

Prescott's eyes widened as he bit back a smile as the image of a cap she'd made him the first year they were married came to his mind. A cap that's shape resembled a lop sided dunce cap.

"Well now, that should keep you busy for a while," he said not daring to look at her.

"Just tell me Sam."

"All right. Rostov is dead," he said flatly."When he refused to cooperate with the authorities, he had an 'accident' on his way to the dining room. Someone slashed his throat. I guess the Russians wanted to make an example out of him to discourage others from thinking about using their prison system as a safe haven to plan and carry out international crime sprees."

Prescott could see the battered face lose what was left of its color, as Malinowski clenched her fists.

"Brooke, Sam. Are you allowed to have more than one visitor at a time," asked the portly figure in the door way.

"When the second visitor is Stan Webber, all bets are off," she replied, as she motioned for him to come in."Are the courts closed today or are you here to schedule a deposition?"

"Deposition," Webber asked as he shook Prescott's out stretched hand.

"Well, you are a defense attorney. A defense attorney that's tried more than one mob case," Malinowski said candidly."I thought maybe your firm had taken on the guys that..."

"Never," Webber said with more than a little shock."If the firm took the case on, I'd ask to be removed from consideration to handle it. My God Brooke, I helped Jack prove Ivan Janovich was involved. How can you think I'd help keep him out of prison after what..."

"You did what," Malinowski asked incredulously.

Webber exchanged concerned glances with Prescott and repeated his earlier revelation.

"And what exactly did Jack threaten you with to make you violate attorney client privilege? Don't even try to tell me he got a judge to issue a warrant for your files first."

"Jack didn't have to threaten me to-"

"If you lie to me Stan, I swear I'll call the senior partner of your firm and tell him you gave the DA client information without a warrant."

Webber's look of concern immediately changed to a look of angry contempt.

"This is the thanks I get for trying to keep you alive? Thanks Brooke, it's good to know what twenty years of friendship means to you."

"Twenty years is long enough for me to know you'd never violate privilege on your own. No good defense attorney would," she said softening her tone as she reacted to the hurt in Webber's voice."And you're not just good, you're an amazing attorney, Stan. Your ethics are beyond reproach. I hate the fact I'm the reason you violated not only your morals, but the law."

Webber reached for her hand as tears came to his eyes.

"And I hate seeing you like this…like this because I defend people like Karl Rostov," he replied as he ran the back of a hand over his eyes."Listen, you need to rest. I'll come take you to lunch when you're up to it."

As Webber disappeared down the hallway, Malinowski pounded a fist on the mattress.

"God damn it, what the hell is wrong with Jack. How could he ..."

"He did what any man that loves you would do," Prescott shot back, more than a little annoyed at having to defend the man he held responsible for his ex-wife's kidnapping.

"And you," she said in a tone that held enough raw rage to startle her former husband."You think it's okay Rostov had this 'accident'? The man was on their death row anyway, so... "

"Mal calm down. I knew you wouldn't be dancing in the streets over this, but let's face facts here..."

"Facts," she spat back at him. "The fact is thousands of people go missing every year in this country and no one releases a suspected mafia banker to buy them time. The fact is dozens of women were kidnapped and brutalized because of Karl Rostov and no one had the man assassinated because of it. The fact is, I'm an officer of the court and if everyone would just do their fucking jobs the system would work. Whether or not that means I live to see it work, should be beside the point. You know it and Jack knows it too."