What the hell was I thinking?

Jack McCoy stood in the door way of the grand ballroom of the Four Seasons Hotel. As he scanned the crowd for the Chairwoman of the event, McCoy noted several familiar faces. Many of those faces belonged to people he knew would rather eat dirt than listen to him speak for twenty minutes, much less twenty seconds.

After making polite conversation with Ben and Shambala Stone, he made his way to the bar where Danielle Melnick stood waiting for her drink order to be filled.

"Jack, what the hell were you thinking," Melnick responded after her friend had told her his story.

"I was thinking I was helping a friend out," McCoy said defensively, as he picked up the glass the bartender had placed in front of him.

"We both know Vanessa Galiano is more than a friend," Melnick countered."We also know she can't be trusted as far as you can throw her."

"You're being unfair Danielle. Besides, it's not as if I agreed to some secret rendezvous."

"Tell that to Brooke when she gets back in town. Have you heard from her since she arrived in Moscow?"

McCoy nodded.

"She's having a great time. Apparently the women she's met have bonded with her and think of her as their American mascot. They've been showing her around Moscow, taking her to the ballet…I think this trip will be good for her."

"Well I'm glad to hear it," Melnick said, with a slight edge."Maybe you two will be ready to reschedule the wedding when she gets back."

McCoy gave her a curious look and waited for her to continue. When the only response the woman in the strapless emerald Halston gown gave him was a shrug of her shoulders, McCoy took a quick glance around the crowded bar.

"Why isn't Sam with you tonight?"

"Oh he should be along any time now," she said with a weak smile. "Right now my wish, is his command. He's been moving heaven and earth to convince me … let's just say since he tried to prosecute Brooke's case against her captor there's been a little tension."

McCoy gave his friend a warm embrace.

"Well for the record, the last time Brooke said anything about Sam was the day he came by her hospital room. I'll be honest; I was surprised she didn't hear from him at least once after I brought her home."

He could see the shame in her eyes before she focused her attention on her drink.

"How do you do it Jack," she asked at last. "I know you. The bond those two have, will always have, has got to get under your skin. How do you keep yourself from punching Sam out or giving Brooke an ultimatum that you'll live to regret?"

"Danielle, you were the one that told me not to let the history between Brooke and Sam get in the way of a future with her. You can't honestly think that there's any chance of those two reconciling, now? We were just minutes from getting married when Brooke was kidnapped," he said quietly as gave Melnick a reassuring smile. "I've seen you and Sam together. Whatever he feels for Brooke, the man's in love with you now, not Brooke."

"Thank you, Jack. I couldn't have said that better myself," a familiar voice said behind McCoy. "It's been awhile since our paths have crossed; how are things in the DA's office?"

Melnick listened with increasing annoyance, as the two men made polite conversation for several minutes after Prescott had kissed her and causally wrapped an arm around her waist. McCoy could see signs his friend was about to blow; the way she fidgeted with the cocktail napkin and looked expectantly at her lover as the frown on her face grew minute by minute.

"…seems you, Ben Stone, and myself are the only prosecutors in the house, Jack. Like lambs in a house of wolves," Prescott said before tipping his head in the direction of Melnick."No offensive, darlin'. Maybe you'd like to join Danielle and me? When dining with wolves the lambs need to st-"

"Jack," Melnick sharply interjected. "Why don't you tell Sam how Brooke's been since she left the hospital? He won't ask you while I'm within twenty feet of you two, but I know he'd like to know."

"I assume you know she's in Moscow," McCoy asked diplomatically.

As Prescott nodded in comformation, McCoy stole a glance at Melnick and fought the urge to cringe. He couldn't remember a time where he'd seen his friend unsure of her self ;be it professionally or personally. It was a site that not only made him feel uncomfortable but protective, as well.

"Yes. Abbie Carmichael mentioned it when she came back from having lunch with you the other day,"Prescott replied. "Strange twist of fate having the daughter of someone Mal's fiancee convicted of murder, turn around and offer so much support to her."

"I agree, but she seems to be more like herself since she went. Maybe after dinner we can talk about the specifics," McCoy said while he discreetly looked over Prescott's shoulder for a polite reason to bolt from the scene of the storm that was about to begin."Right now I need to find the Chair for this thing. Seems I'm filling in for your keynote speaker..."

"Are you," Prescott said with a look of confusion, as he turned to his companion."Danielle, didn't you tell me Potter Cromwell of Cromwell/Moore was the keynote speaker?"

Melnick nodded, as she finished her drink.

"Well that's interestin', because I saw Cromwell not five minutes ago. He was just outside the ballroom talkin' to Abbie and her young man…well now…I guess that makes four prosecutors, after all…"

Melnick and McCoy exchanged knowing looks. Just as McCoy began to make noises about leaving, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Jack, I've been looking everywhere for you."

McCoy turned around, hands shifting impatiently stuffed in the pockets of the tuxedo trouser. Getting ready to begin a furious tirade about the absurdity of a woman well beyond her high school years tricking him into an evening together, when he paused, missing several beats.

McCoy could hear the usually reserved Sam Prescott's faint, but audible whistle, as well as the sound of Melnick's clutch bag making contact with her lover's arm.

Vanessa Galiano looked more than stunning. The long, permed locks fell loosely over her shoulders. Her dress... a blueberry colored satin gown that had a plunging neckline that came together as a halter top... looked anything but trashy on her well toned frame.

"Goodevening Danielle, Mr. Prescott," the statuesque beauty purred, as she held her hand out towards Prescott.

"Why so formal, darlin'? Please call me Sam," Prescott replied, as he reached for her hand, much to Melnick's chargin.

"Excuse us you two," Melnick said as she snatched Prescott's hand and began moving towards the balcony, Prescott in tow.

"Vanessa, what the hell are you trying to do," McCoy demanded, struggling to sound stern. "Aren't we both a little old for this?"

"You must have already heard," Galiano responded with deliberate ease. "Potter Cromwell called me this afternoon and..."

"Exactly how big a fool do you take me for?"

"Jack, I know how this looks," Galiano replied with pain in her voice."But, it's the truth. You can ask Potter yourself, if you like. However since you here, why don't you stay and have dinner? It's been ages..."

McCoy sighed irritatably as he reached for her arm and looked for a more private place to finish their conversation. As he led her towards the exit, he couldn't help but notice the back of her dress revealed even more than the front of it did. The plunging back framed her golden skin from the top of her neck and flirting with the beginning of her firmly toned backside.

McCoy shook his head to clear his mind of thoughts that had no business being there, but not before Galiano had caught the approving look he had given her. Smiling to herself, she let him lead her down the hallway and away from the crowd; finally pulling her into an empty meeting room and closing the door behind them.

"Vanessa, whether or not the fact I'm getting married again means anything to...,"he began as he turned to face her, only to be silenced by Galiano's mouth crashing down on his.

McCoy wasn't entirely surprised by the sudden kiss. It was obvious his former lover had something to prove to herself... or to him…maybe to the both of them. What surprised him was how easy it was for him to yield to her.

As he found himself pressing Galiano up against the door, returning her kiss with the same reckless fervor he had when they would sneak a kiss in an elevator at the courthouse or begin one of their lunchtime trysts; the question that he kept asking himself was why?

He'd spent years being faithful to his first wife…and not just because the formidable Elizabeth Donnelly would have had his head on a platter otherwise. Sure, an attractive new secretary or ADA still caught his eye back then. But, that was all she'd catch. Even with Diana Hawthorne, it wasn't until he was out of the house that they had began their affair. Even during his second marriage…an event that was on par with the sinking of the Titanic as far as disasters go…infidelity had never seriously crossed the mind of Jack McCoy.

"It's not like you to settle for another woman's leftovers," he breathlessly remarked.

"Is that how you see yourself now Jack? My God, can you honestly tell me you think you'll be happy coming home every night to the same woman? Shopping for wallpaper, watching the Bears game on the sofa instead of the pub, while wife number three knits you a scarf to go with that..."

"Stop it. I told you in my office, this is beneath you," he snapped, unsure who he was more disgusted with. "Maybe you've forgotten who ended things between us."

Galiano reached up and held his chin with surprising tenderness.

"Maybe you've forgotten why I ended things Jack," she said with sincerity that startled him.

Galiano stepped back, her face glowing. McCoy remembered all too well the fiery scene that was to be the last fiery scene they were to have together outside of the courtroom.

As her eyes lowered while she released his chin, McCoy caught her hand and tenderly brought it too his lips, while moving towards a small cluster of chairs near the doorway.

"What I remember is being a wreck before you led me out of post divorce hell," he said quietly as the pair sat across from one another.

"Wow. So that's what I was to you, Jack? Your 'transition woman'," she countered in an amused tone, although the look in her eyes was anything but that.

McCoy shook his head while he sighed, recalling his fiancées words.

…she's was fun, wasn't she Jack? I'll be she made you do things you never thought you would…

"You know better than that Vanessa," he said taking her hand. "You brought me back to life…you made me come up for air after I dove into the bottle. You challenged me in more ways than one. But, you know I had no business making any kind of commitment to anyone then."

"Agreed. But this is now, not then."

"And now I'm engaged and you… you may have been with Charlie Graham on business that night at Gino's, but I've heard about you and Charlie via the rumor mill. You've hardly led a cloistered existence since you broke it off. "

"Nor have you," Galiano responded with more venom than she meant to. "When you jumped from my bed into bed with Samantha Weaver, I thought maybe you were crazy with regret for the way things went with us…either that or you were just plain crazy."

McCoy's eyes widened in disbelief. Although he taken more that a little personal flack for his one night stand with Samantha Weaver once it became public knowledge, in all the times he'd dealt with Galiano since then, she never said a word about Weaver.

"You and I hadn't been together in over a year. I'd hardly call that bed hopping. "

"Unresponsive," Galiano, easing her tone. "We're not discussing your…interlude...with the Weaver woman. We're discussing the fact that you asked another woman to marry you. What happened to 'One shark attack is enough to last a life time? I'll never get married again after the gutting Alyssa Goodwin gave me?'"

McCoy studied her face thoughtfully. Inspite of the brassy, determined facade Galiano put on for most of the world, McCoy knew there was another side to the fiery defense lawyer.

She had a side that loved puppies, that wept openly during a screening of Schlindler's List, that enjoyed doting on her lover by making a five course bunch on Sunday morning that would rival anything Tavern on the Green had to offer.

"Things change," he said squeezed her hand. "If I hurt you, it wasn't intentional. You're an amazing woman, Vanessa. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still attracted to you or if I let you walk out of here believing that crap about being a 'transition woman'. Even Brooke can see .."

At the mention of McCoy's fiancée, Galiano slipped her hand from his and lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Brooke. Tell me Jack, what exactly was it about the former Mrs. Prescott that made you do such an about face? Was the challenge just too tempting for you to resist?"

"What are you saying?"

Galiano gave him a knowing look, as she leaned back on the thin metal folding chair.

"Come on Jack. That marriage was as legendary as Sam Prescott's record as a Federal Prosecutor. Talk about unattainable! Why do you think Danielle Melnick is sitting on pins and needles even though she's been seeing Sam Prescott for months? I remember how those two were before Sam disappeared. That marriage kept every divorce lawyer in Long Island up at night, fearing whatever those two had would spread and they'd be out of business. "

"You think I'm marrying Brooke to what? To prove I can break up her marriage," McCoy sputtered. "I don't know what you've been drinking tonight, Vanessa, but it's obviously gone to your head. First of all, there was no marriage to break up when I started seeing Brooke. Second of all, when Sam came back I made it more than clear to Brooke I'd accept whatever decision she made. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a..."

"Come on Jack, it's me. I know better than most exactly what you are. That's why it was as good as it was when we were together. Getting Sam's Prescott's widow into bed had to outweigh just about any other notch on your bedpost. See, I get that part," she said as she leaned in close enough for McCoy feel the warmth of her Merlot laced breath. "I also get that you feel a sense of obligation towards the woman..."

"Obligation," McCoy repeated a stood. "You of all people should know I don't..."

"The woman shot another human being to save your life. On top of that, there's what happened in Canada. You wouldn't be human if you didn't feel some sense of duty...a sense of resposibility towards her."

McCoy couldn't believe his hears. It was one think to rehash an old love affair; to answer previously unasked questions about a relationship that was no more, but Galiano's accusations were much more than McCoy had bargained for. Whatever desire McCoy had to play with the fire Galiano had lit, was extinguished when Galiano went too far; delving into territory McCoy himself had refused to explore himself.

"Let me tell you something Vanessa, if you think the way to manipulate me into sleeping with you is to imply that I use women like napkins, only to discard them after..."

"I manipulated you into coming here tonight," Galiano retorted as she followed him towards the door. "That's the only thing I manipulated. That kiss we shared, we shared, Jack. Just like the one at Gino's. Neither of those kisses came from a man that's one hundred percent committed to any woman. Maybe you better think about that long and hard before you find yourself in divorce court for the third time."