Vanessa Galiano snatched the framed picture from the center of the DA's desk and thoughtfully studied the women on either side of Jack McCoy. Although she had never met her, Galiano knew who the younger woman was instantly. She had seen the pictures of Rebecca McCoy that rested on the desk and dresser in McCoy's apartment.

Turning her attention to the auburn haired woman who gazed adoringly at McCoy, Galiano shook her head. Yes, Brooke Prescott…or whatever she was calling herself these days…was attractive. But she was far from the kind of woman she imaged could capture Jack McCoy's heart.

...and what the hell is it they're doing in that photograph, she wondered as she glanced at the man proudly holding a fish up as if the slimy, wiggly thing were a prized trophy.

God, fishing with the wife and kid…what's next?…A house in Westchester with a white picket fence and two dogs?

"Sorry. Minor crisis with one of the Executives,"McCoy said as he closed the door.

"Crisis," Galiano said with mock concern."What happened, Jack? One of your prosecutors' actually take the time to read the Bill of Rights and refused to… what? Condon an illegal search, maybe?"

McCoy shot her a sharp glance, as he returned the frame to the desk top.

"Just the opposite," he retorted.

He still couldn't believe what he'd walked in on.

A cop sends a suspects address book to his own phone, tries to pass it off as a righteous search, and then my senior prosecutor not only agrees, but wants to pass it off to a judge as within the plain site rule, McCoy pondered, shaking head. I knew Mike Cutter was aggressive, but I thought he'd at least heard of the eighth amendment…

"Jack?"

"Listen Vanessa, when Brooke said to send me the bill for your dry cleaning, I think she meant to send to me in the mail," McCoy said as he watched his former flame take a seat across from him."I doubt she expected you to hand deliver it."

"Oh Jack. Not even married yet and she's got you henpecked already," Galiano admonished as she crossed her legs, deliberately letting the black satin skirt ride up her thighs. "If you're afraid the little woman won't like me being here, I can leave right now."

"Stop it Vanessa," McCoy said with a sigh. "Pettiness is not only unattractive, it's beneath you."

Galiano nodded. She reached for her bag and busied herself with looking for the dry cleaning slip, hoping to hide her sudden embarrassment.

"I agree," she said lightly as she handed him the slip of paper. She smiled innocently, when McCoy's eyebrows sprung up, as he read the figure on the bill. "It's silk Jack. It doesn't come cheap."

"Neither do you," he shot back without thinking.

McCoy bit his tongue. He knew better than to start down this path with Galiano. It was a provocative remark that had started the one up's man ship that led to tempers flaring and drinks being thrown, the last time he saw the defense attorney.

"Quality is always worth the price," she shot back smoothly,"and if you're referring to our time at The Carlyle, I never heard you complain about the price of the room or anything else."

McCoy let out another sigh and rested his chin in his hands. As much as he loved Malinowski, McCoy knew if she wasn't in his life, how easy it would be to let nature take its course with Vanessa Galiano. His lover had nailed it when she described Galiano as someone adventurous and fun, someone who could make McCoy do things he never dreamed of…

"Vanessa, we both know you make more than enough to cover a dry cleaning bill, even one that rivals the national debt. Why are you really here?"

Galiano sighed and reached back into her bag.

"Two reasons. One I'm having problems with one of Executive ADA's. I thought maybe for old time's sake, you would be willing to talk to Mr. Carver about..."

"Ron Carver," McCoy asked, not bothering to hide his relief that the name out of Galiano's mouth wasn't Mike Cutter. "Save your breath Vanessa. If Ron isn't interested in a deal, neither am I; old time's sake or not. What else?"

"All right," she continued, while leaning forward, to hand him engraved invitation as well as give him the briefest glimpse of cleavage, peeking out from her black silk camisole.

"You're inviting me to the Trail Lawyer's Association's annual banquet? As what? As your date," he sputtered.

"Of course not," she responded with mock indignation."Look at the bottom…the committee in charge of putting this thing together. I'm the chair, Jack and my keynote speaker called this morning. He has a bad case of laryngitis. He cancelled on me and the banquet is tomorrow night. I was hoping you would fill in for him."

McCoy tapped the invitation thoughtfully against the desk, as he studied Galliano's beseeching expression.

"You want the DA to speak to a room full of trial lawyers? How long do you think it would be before I am either assaulted by a storm of flying utensils and glassware or booed off the stage?"

"Come on Jack," she said urgently."Trial lawyers aren't all in criminal law. Most of the people that show are in civil litigation. I know for a fact Ben Stone will be there with Shambala; that's one guy from your side of the aisle. Then there's your buddy Danielle; you know if she's coming odds are Sam Prescott from the States Attorney's Office will be there..."

"Wonderful,"McCoy responded with a smirk.

"Besides, you're the new DA,"Galiano persisted, ignoring his skeptical showl. "You could talk about the importance of lawyers on both sides of the aisle adhering to the constitutional protections of the rights of the accused. That's the topic you spoke on, at the ABA gala and prosecutors and defense attorney's alike loved it. You can even bring the ball and chain I mean, your fiancée and I promise to play nice all evening. What do you say?"

Galiano held her breath. After being drenched by McCoy's fiancée at Gino's, Charlie Graham had called her the next week to confirm the meeting they had rescheduled to discuss his possible partnership. During the course of their conversation, Galiano had managed to get him to bring her up to speed on the events that had occurred while she was in Japan. In the course of that update, Graham had mentioned that Malinowski's had kidnapped on the day she and McCoy were to wed no less, by men connected with one of McCoy's prosecutions against a Russian mobster.

Horrified and intrigued at the same time, Galiano had encouraged Graham to give her whatever details he knew. In passing he mentioned he had heard through Charlie Webber, who was a good friend of Malinowski's former assistant Jake Cohen, that she was planning a trip out of town.

Galiano saw it as an opportunity to make one last play for the man she had come to regret letting get away.

She could see her former lover was weighing the pros and cons of accepting her inviatation,as she waited. It was her style to be pursued, not to pursue; especially when it came to a man who was otherwise attached. The main reason she had broken things off with McCoy was he inability to commit. She had assumed with two failed marriages, he meant what he said about there being no chance of him making a third trip down the aisle with any woman.

Apparently, things had changed…

"What about asking Beaumont at the ACLU or Crenshaw from the Bill of Rights Foundation?"

"Both out of town that night. Look Jack, forget it," she said as she began to stand. "It's obvious you're not comfortable after the other night."

"I'm not…I didn't say that…I just thought with your crowd...," McCoy shook his head impatiently.

He knew Galiano too well to take her story at face value. But the invitation was clearly genuine and her problem one he could easily fix. If Malinowski were in town he would have turned the offer down flat; fearing another confrontation might end in a more serious red liquid being spilled. But with his fiancée thousands of miles away, so that risk no longer existed…

"What time do you want me there?"