Chapter 7

A.D.A. Connie Rubirosa was roused out of her deep slumber by the smell of brewed coffee. She'd been sleeping hard. Too hard, she was confused and disoriented. Harper's humming from the kitchen helped jolt her back to reality. Rubbing her eyes she grabbed for her cell phone. I had been four hours since she was last up. She must have slept through the last two alarms.

Connie shuffled into the kitchen. "Are you always so chipper this early?" she grumbled with a smile. "I guess I'm not a very good nurse. I must have turned off the alarm."

Harper laughed out loud at the sight before her. Connie stood there in an wrinkled, oversized Mets t-shirt, pajama bottoms, and a rat's nest on top of her head. "Must have been quite a date, Miss Rubirosa." Harper turned and hopped up on the kitchen counter, something her mother always detested, and picked up her cup of coffee. "So? Details."

Connie sighed and reached for a mug. "It was OK. He was nice."

"He was nice. That's it?" Her tone was incredulous. Connie just shrugged innocently. "You didn't get in until almost one. That sounds better than just OK."

"OK, it was good." Connie paused and took a sip of her coffee. "Don't you look at me like that Harper VanMeter. It's like pulling teeth to get any details out of you about Cyrus."

Cryus. Harper's stomach churned at the mention of his name. "Oh, Connie," Harper groaned. "The Cyrus situation is complicated." More specifically the Cyrus-Jack situation was complicated, but that was more than Harper was willing to share at the moment.

"Oh, Harper," Connie mocked. "Life is complicated. I guess it's the small stuff we need to learned to appreciate."

"The small stuff?" Harper asked with a quizzically unconvinced smirk.

"Yep. The small stuff. You know, a leading hand on the small of your back," she paused and rested her hand on Harper's knee. "Or a very public - and unintentionally embarrassing - kiss on the cheek."

Harper rolled her eyes at Connie and looked down. "Or a slow dance…." she gazed absently at the creamy liquid in her mug.

"Exactly." Connie smiled wistfully.

Harper eyed her friend suspiciously. "So why do I get the feeling we're not talking about Mike here? Or maybe I should say Logan."

Connie chuckled. "Don't even start. It's too early and I didn't get enough sleep for that conversation."

Harper didn't press her. "So, the small things, huh?" She gave Connie a look to imply she wasn't quite buying it.

They laughed and finished their morning caffeine fix in silence.

The rest of Harper's Sunday went by relatively uneventful.

First she took a long, brisk walk in the park, much to the dismay of her protection detail. They're lucky she had a concussion. She would have much preferred to run. After that she went down to the 2-7 to take another stab at the elusive perp books. Nothing came of her diligence. Just a bunch of faces that rung no bells.

The hustle and bustle of the squad room was relatively quite. Despite the people around her Harper felt alone. Connie and Mike were at the office trying to figure out a way to get a judge to sign off on a search warrant. With the less than circumstantial evidence they had it wasn't going to be easy. She ran into Cyrus and Bernard on her way in. They were headed over to Murray Hill. She wondered if this was how most victims felt. Alone, despite being attended to constantly by a fury of people. Out of the loop on her own life. The not knowing what was going to happen was maddening.

As she rode home in the backseat of the squad car Harper rolled down the window. She laid her head back, closed her eyes, and let the cool November air wash over her face. So much had happened in the last 48 hours. She wanted this guy. More than she'd wanted any win she'd every gotten in a courtroom. If only she could identify him somehow. Make their case more solid. There had to be a way. She knew she was missing something. The key was there. It was within reach, but she just couldn't quite grasp it.

Connie called to check in later that night. Harper laughed and joked that they were both having separation anxiety.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. The guys are just outside if I need anything. Enjoy sleeping in your own bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"OK. You're sure you don't need to take a couple of days? I'm pretty sure Jack's not expecting you. He'd understand if you need more time."

"Absolutely not. I've got a motion hearing before Judge Lutz at ten and depositions all afternoon. Besides, I'll go nuts if I don't. So I will most definitely see you tomorrow." They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Connie reminded Harper of a subject she'd been trying to keep her mind off of: Jack. She hadn't heard from him all day. She'd resisted the urge to call him herself. What was he up to? He'd been so attentive the day before. Had she done something wrong? Maybe she'd been too forward with him. Though Jack McCoy didn't strike her as the type of man to be scared away by a direct woman. Had she really been all that forward with him anyway? This situation was getting to be as exasperating as her inability to identifying her perpetrator.

The only thing Harper wasn't confused about was the beckoning call of her bed. Without Connie there waking her up every couple of hours she was looking forward to finally getting a full nights sleep.

Harper strode onto the seventh floor of Hogan Place about an hour earlier than her usual time. Her impeccable attire and smart up-do effectively hid any sign of her restless night. She tossed and turned all night only getting a couple of hours of sleep. On the upside - her apartment was now spotless. The office was still dim with a few lights on here and there. She loved the peacefulness she felt here. The normalcy. As she approached her desk Harper was surprised to find a very colorful balloon bouquet adorning her desk. Half a dozen balloons saying 'Get Well' and 'We Love You' tied to a cellophane bag full of Reese's Pieces - her favorite. Connie. There was no card, but Connie was written all over the gift. It only took a second for Harper to notice the tidiness of her desk. She always left her it neat and orderly , but it seemed especially sparse this morning. Her case files were gone. Connie must have done some straightening up in an effort to help. Slightly irritated Harper began searching through her drawers. She wanted to get a jump on the day's work.

"Good morning. How was your night?" Connie's voice possessed it's usually cheery ring.

"Hey, good morning," Harper looked up from her open drawer and smiled. "It was good. Thank you so much for the balloons."

"Your welcome. Lose something?"

"Yeah," Harper chuckled. "My case files. You didn't move them off my desk did you?"

"Uh, no…."

Harper recognized that look. Connie knew something she didn't want to tell her. "What? What is it?"

She looked at Harper nervously, "Jack had your cases reassigned."

"He what?!"

"Like I said, I don't think he expected you back immediately and I'm sure he didn't want you to worry about continuances, and even if…."

Harper held her hand out to silence Connie while she took a couple of deep and hopefully calming breaths. In her already irritated state this was the last thing she wanted to deal with. Without saying a word she rose and quickly walked in the direction of Jack's office.

"Harper!" Connie shouted in a hushed tone, "Remember, he's your boss!" Connie knew Harper had a tendency to fly off the handle. She hoped she wouldn't say something she'd regret.

"Is he in?" Harper asked Jack's secretary impatiently without breaking her stride towards the door.

"Yes…." she answered obviously confused.

Harper marched into the office. Jack sat at his desk already hard at work behind several stacks of open law journals. He was more than a little surprised to see her.

"Harper, why are you here?" he asked as he took off his reading glasses.

"Because I work here. Or at last I did before somebody reassigned all my cases." She stood there with her hands on her hips trying to be as imposing as possible.

"I did what I thought was best, Harper. For everyone." Jack rose from his desk and walked to the open door and shut it quietly. "You shouldn't be here. Go home."

Despite her anger she was touched by Jack's concern. So concerned he couldn't be bothered to pick up a phone yesterday she thought. "Don't do that," she shook her head trying to push away any warmth she felt for him. "Don't play the concerned friend. You stole my cases! I've worked my ass off on those cases. They're mine and I want them back!"

Jack leaned against his desk with his arms crossed, familiar scowl affixed to his face. "You've been through a lot. You don't have to rush back into things. Take a few days, get your head back on straight."

"I don't need a few days, Jack," hopelessness leaked into her voice. "I need my cases. I need-" Harper's voice began to shake "-my life back. I need my job. You took them from me and I need them back!" She stared at him with defiant tears streaming down her face. She hated to cry in front of people, but somehow she didn't mind doing it in front of him.

She was right. Although he was sure she hadn't meant it that way, this was all his fault. None of this would be happening if he hadn't flirted with her at that party and let her leave with him, both of them hoping it would go further than it should. He started it and now he was taking away her lifeline - her job. He wanted to comfort her, but after the other night in her apartment, he thought better of it.

"I'm sorry that this happened to you, Harper."

His eyes conveyed so much more than just sympathy. Empathy, regret, anger, compassion, disappointment, all of which washed over Harper like a flood. She turned her back to him and began to sob quietly. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together emotionally and physically. She could feel Jack as he moved in behind her, even in her emotional state his closeness made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She wanted him to hold her, needed him to.

Jack, unable to ignore the woman falling apart in front of him, put his hands on her shoulders. He rubbed them comfortingly and wished there was something he could do to make it all go away. All he could do was be there for her and he couldn't really do that, not without encouraging the feelings he was sure she was developing for him.

Harper stood there crying for a few more minutes. It felt good to have a release, even if she did seem like a raving lunatic in the process. She took a deep breath, wiped her tear streaked cheeks, and turned to face Jack. She started to speak, but didn't know what to say, so she just shrugged and smiled at Jack's worried face.

Jack smiled down at her. He put his hands in his pockets in an effort to resist the urge to pull her to him. "Better?"

She let out a sputter from her lips, smiled, and nodded.

As Jack walked back to his desk he let a sigh of resignation. "If you insist on coming in you can do case law research. I'm sorry, but your cases have already been reassigned. Maybe I jumped the gun, but it's done."

Harper felt defeated. "Research? I'm not a clerk, Jack. I'm an attorney. I belong in a courtroom."

"I'll make sure some arraignments get thrown your way. Deal?"

Harper narrowed her gaze at him. "Deal." Now she knew how defense attorneys felt bargaining with him. He was steadfast and she didn't stand a chance. "Who's handling the Montgomery case? The depositions are this afternoon. I could help if they want."

"Gaffney's got it." Jack answered smiling at her attempt to worm her way back into her case. "She could probably use an extra hand."

Harper spent the rest of the day helping Kelly Gaffney take depositions. She hadn't had the opportunity to work much with Gaffney. She seemed like a good lawyer, knew what she was doing. And she wasn't bothered by Harper lending a helping hand.

The next couple of days went by quietly. Even though she had complained when she was assigned the job, Harper always enjoyed clerical work. It was the type of work that suited her well. The best part was it kept her mind busy. She still wasn't sleeping well. She woke up four or five times throughout the night usually drenched in a cold sweat. Physically, though she was feeling much better. Her bruises were all but gone and her head was healing nicely. She expected to have her stitches removed Friday afternoon. The case seemed to be progressing. Everyone was kind enough to keep her in the loop as much as possible. Bernard and Cyrus seemed to think they were closing in on DiCillo and Romano was 'this close' to giving up what he knew. All in all things were moving in the right direction.

Jack walked out of the locker room into the crowded gym of the McBurney YMCA. Thursday wasn't the usual night for his basketball league games. This week's game had to be moved back a day, so the gym was more crowded than usual. He didn't mind he always like the sound of a busy gym, kids yelling, balls bouncing, sneakers squeaking. It reminded him of his childhood. As he scanned the gym's multiple courts for his teammates a familiar voice caught his attention.

"C'mon Ref! You've been making that same bad call all night! Give us a break!" Harper stood with her arms raised in the air, smiling in frustration.

Jack couldn't believe it. Did she have no limits? He walked over to her court and motioned for her to join him at courtside. He could have been imagining it, but he thought he sensed some hostility as she approached him. Probably his guilty conscience for not having spoken to her since Monday in his office. "Do you really think you should be playing basketball? You have a head injury."

"Jack," she answered breathlessly as she took a swig from her water bottle, "don't mother me." Jack looked at her unconvinced. "I have four older brothers and I've played sports my entire life." Harper watched the action on the floor attentively. "Do you know how many concussions I've had? I know my body." Jack just continued to frown down at her. "So does this mean your speaking to me again? For the moment at least…." Harper's eyes never left the court.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's been a busy week." He felt like schmuck. "I hear you've been very helpful with research."

"Yep. That's me. Helpful." She looked up and flashed him a condescending smiled. He narrowed his gaze and she couldn't help but smile for real. Sometimes she hated herself when she was around him. She couldn't stay mad at him even when he deserved it. It was infuriating.

"So, you play basketball," he prodded as he scanned her petite figure.

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe?" she laughed. Jack just shrugged. She whistled and motioned to her teammates on the floor. "I'll have you know Jack McCoy, I was an All-State point guard my junior and senior year in high school. I maybe short, but I'm scrappy." She winked and ran off to re-joined the game.

"Don't over do it!" Jack yelled after her.

Jack's game started, but he made a point to keep an eye on Harper. She never seemed to let up. Constantly pushing herself, going for every rebound, running the ball up and down the court, guarding her assignment like her life depended on it. She had heart that was certain.

Harper loved playing sports. She always had. It was a natural part of growing up with so many brothers. In fact playing with her brothers and their greater size advantage had made her much better player in her opinion.

She went for a long rebound and immediately felt the heat from the defense. Surround by the other women she came up with her elbows out and bounce passed to a teammate. Free of her double team Harper was able to set up for a two-pointer. The pass to her was deflected and, true to form, Harper dove to recover the ball. She and a player from the other team both struggled for the ball. The ref blew his whistle signaling a jump ball. When the other player helped pull Harper to her feet the world turned upside down. Everything spun. She wavered and instantly fell to the hardwood floor.

A crowd of players formed around her. She was already back on her feet when Jack came rushing over to assist. She held her head as the dizziness began to subside. Jack held onto her arm and walked her to the bench.

"I'm fine, really. I just got up too quickly." A couple of her teammates lingered. She encouraged them to continue the game. Jack looked on concern etched on his face. "Go back to your game Jack. I'm fine."

"How much longer does your game have?"

"Just a couple of minutes. I won't go back in. I promise."

Reluctantly Jack returned to his court. She could feel his eyes on her, watching over her. She sighed. Jack McCoy was easily the most confusing man she'd ever known. One minute he's all flirty and concerned the next he doesn't speak to her for three days. At times she tried to convince herself she was imagining the whole thing. Jack thought nothing more of her than a colleague and friend. She didn't want that to be true. It didn't make any sense, but when he wasn't around it hurt. And not just emotionally either, her insides literally ached in his absence. It perplexed her.

After her team won their game she retreated to the locker room. She relished the warm shower. She let the water slowly wash away the day, it's worries and her confusion. She laughed out loud as the song from South Pacific popped into her head: I'm gonna wash that man right outta my hair and send him on his way!

If only it was that simple.

By the time she left the locker room the gym had all but cleared out. A few people lingered here and there, some staff cleaning up, but the chaos of earlier was long gone. Jack stood waiting against the wall, idly dribbling a basketball.

"I thought you might be setting up permanent residence in there."

His voice was low and husky and sent chills down Harper's spine.

"You didn't have to stay." She wanted so badly to be mad at him. At the same time she wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her and never let go.

"I wanted to make sure you were OK."

"That's what Steve and Eric are for…" she smiled and motioned to the two officers that were her constant companions.

Jack ignored the slight. He deserved it. "How's your head?"

Harper put her hand on the side of her head and nudged it a little, "Still attached." She smiled, embarrassed by her silly joke.

As if a magnet were pulling him he took a couple of steps closer. Close enough to smell her coconut shampoo, the same as the other night. "You play a good game. You were right. You are scrappy."

His warm smile swept away any lingering anger Harper felt. Damn him! "Thanks." She shrugged. "I told you… it's my low center of gravity. It's disconcerting to the taller players." Jack smiled and his eyes twinkle with mischief and her heart ached for him. She took a step closer. "How much longer are we going to do this, Jack?"

His smiled faded to a quizzical smirk. "Do what?"

"Pretend like there's nothing going on between us."

They stood there holding each other's contemplative gaze. A young girl came by wielding a push broom. She unintentionally ran the oversized broom into Harper's feet breaking the tension between them.

"Oh gosh! I'm so sorry."

Harper smiled reassuringly at her. "It's OK, no problem."

As the girl turned around to continue her duty something caught Harper's eye. The teenager's blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail revealing a cluster of small stars tattooed on the back of her neck. Harper's ears began to ring as flashes of images hurdled through her head. That was it!

"Jack!" Her heart was beating and she could feel her cheeks flushed.

"Harper, I'm not sure that-"

She could see the seriousness of their interrupted conversation on his face. That would have to wait. She waved her hands in dismissal, "Oh, no, no never mind that." She smiled and her eyes twinkled with excitement. "He had a tattoo," Harper reached down and grabbed Jack's hand stroked the top of it between the thumb and forefinger, "right here. A nautical star."

Realization fell onto his face, "Jimmy DiCillo has a tattoo on his hand." He squeezed her hands in his. This was exactly what they need. He instinctively touched her cheek with his free hand and smiled encouragingly. "You did good."