As McCoy held the yellow crime scene tape out of the way, Malinowski turned and took his hand.

"You know, I can do this alone Jack," she said softly."Having the DA disturb a crime scene..."

McCoy gave her hand a squeeze as he stepped in the room and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"You were down here alone too long to start with, love. Besides, the CSU team has sent everything to the feds and they've forwarded copies to the Canadians. You know the tape is just a formality until someone gets a verdict."

He took the bag of take out from her and he noticed her trembling become more pronounced. Malinowski looked around the room she had learned was part of a set of servant quarters that had been sectioned off when the old boiler and laundry rooms had been remodeled.

As she slowly walked around the room, her mind focused on the single piece of furniture in the room, now covered with plastic. She could hear their voices, see the camera, remember their hands…

"Brooke?"

Malinowski instinctively pushed McCoy away when he placed and hand on her arm. McCoy could see the look of terror evaporate into a look of shame and he shook his head.

"It's all right," he said stepping back.

She nodded and glanced over his shoulder at the open door, reminding herself she was there because she chose to be. She could leave when she chose to leave…

"Give me the soup," she said as she lowered herself to the floor.

McCoy bit back his reservations and joined her on cold tile. He knew from the lab reports, the container of soup that had been found, had traces of drugs in it. The kind of drugs that would not only disorient a person, but would raise their libido and lessen their inhibitions.

"You don't have to do this," he as he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her.

"Neither do you," she said as a shaky hand held out one of the two steaming containers.

McCoy gave her a look before he realized what he'd done and took the container. They both knew how wrong she was. As much as being in that room, that building, made him want to bolt, McCoy wasn't about to make this moment about himself or his feelings. Yet he knew part of what was going on in that room was about control and part of him resented it.

The pair ate in silence. As she brought the spoon to her lips, Malinowski found herself comparing the soup to the soup her captor brought her. She tried to taste a difference…to see if there was something she missed that day when Ivan sat with her. That day he touched her…

After several minutes, she abruptly stood and moved towards the bathroom. McCoy watched, unsure whether to follow.

When she got to the archway she reached out to steady herself. Malinowski stood, for what seemed like an eternity to McCoy, gazing at the shower. Her eyes fell on the faint traces of blood on the lower half of the back wall. Her thoughts fjocused on the solution that seemed so logical at the time…

"It wasn't about giving up," she said at last."The truth is, it was about just the opposite…as well as my own arrogance."

McCoy knew immediately she what she was referring to and why.

"I had no right to judge you. When I said your were prepared to give up..."

"You weren't trying to hurt me," she said knowingly."But you were wrong. It was about not letting them win. Not letting them use me to hurt you, to get what they wanted…"

"You worry too much about everyone but yourself," he said he stood."You were trying to survive..."

"Jack," she said, urgently taking his hands in hers."Put your misplaced guilt a side and listen to what I'm trying to tell you. I didn't want to give up or die...but I knew where things were headed. I wanted control. I wanted to control how and when and where. Jack, it was about losing the battle, but winning the war."

"By taking your own life?"

Malinowski sighed deeply as she slowly nodded. She could see the confusion in his eyes and she knew the source only too well.

"Not as lapsed as you thought, are you Jack, "she asked with a sad smile."I'm familiar with the term 'mortal sin' too. When I left the church, it took years before my own brother would give me the time of day."

McCoy started to protest and found himself chocking on his own words. As much as he didn't want to admit the influence years of catechism, mass, and confession still had on McCoy 's private moral code, he knew how strong that influence was. Malinowski could see the internal conflict and her smile grew wider.

"Can't tell me I'm wrong, can you counselor? It's a big leap to take. Divorce, fornication, even abortion…those are all much easier to rationalize than thumbing your nose at 'thou shalt not kill' aren't they, Jack?"

"I knew you'd resigned yourself…that you wanted me to think like a prosecutor…no special privileges. I thought that's why you tried ..."

"Jack, I knew the more you gave, the more they'd want. We both know where it would have ended if Logan hadn't come through that door. It was never about me doubting you. You have to believe that."

McCoy turned away, bringing a hand to his eyes.

"No," she said as she stubbornly moved back into his line of sight."You don't get to play martyr; neither of us do. If you can't live with my less than perfect judgment…if you want look down that perfectly chiseled nose of yours with moral contempt because I was arrogant enough to think I could use death to cheat those sons of bitches out of..."

"I played God more times than I can count as a prosecutor," he said with just as much passion."I was more than responsible for Mickey Scott's conviction and execution. You did what you asked me to do. You did what you had to do and who am I to say it wasn't the right choice to make?"

Malinowski ran a hand loving over his cheek and through the locks of grey, as she searched his eyes.

"Then don't let them win, Jack. Don't let those bastards take away what we had. Kiss me. Kiss me like I'm still the woman you fell in love with, the woman you not only wanted to marry, but the woman you wanted in every way."