By the time Malinowski returned from Islip; Saturday morning was well on its way to turning into Saturday evening. She knew McCoy was hosting the annual summit for the DA's of the five neighboring countries. An event that had ended at five o'clock. Given it would probably take him another hour to make enough polite noises to get out of Rockefeller Center, she knew she easily had an hour and a half to find everything she needed.

Dressing the part was easy. While she'd been in Moscow her new friends had taken her to Russia's version of Victoria's Secret. It was an odd, but fun filled trip. Odd given the fact every woman in her group was not only the victim of rape, but forced prostitution. Nadia Brezin had explained to her the importance many of the women found in reclaiming the sexuality. Part of the reclamation came with rediscovering their own individual idea of what made them desirable.

Malinowski had found a creme colored merry widow with black lace trim and matching thong that was sexy yet conservative, at least by American standards. She knew she had a pair of black fishnet stockings in her lingerie drawer she'd bought to go with an outfit for a costume party back in October.

Finding a makeshift basin to use took more time. After tearing apart every cabinet in the kitchen, she finally settled on a deep oval serving bowl that would serve her purpose.

Almost everything else she needed was in the bathroom. The linen closet held several white face towels and she still had a plastic smock that she used when she colored her hair between salon appointments. The shaving crème she had picked up on her way from the train station.

The only thing left to find was the blade.

She remembered her ex-husband giving it to her during one of the settlement meetings. He had found it in the box of clothing she'd given him when he returned to New York. Actually, it was more than a blade. It was a shaving kit that had belonged to her father. A family heirloom bought by her grandmother for her grandfather as a wedding present.

As she pulled out the sparkling silver instruments, she made a mental note to give them to McCoy after they had served her purpose. To give them to him not as a wedding gift as she had done with her former husband... but as a sign of good faith… faith she had that whatever problem that was on his mind was fixable.

The set still looked brand new, even though it was nearly a hundred years old. But the set was from Slovakia…the old country… a place where craftsmanship was not a lost art. The set was made to stand the test of time just as Malinowski believed, the love between herself and Jack McCoy would, as well.

"Brooke? What's going on," McCoy asked an hour later.

He moved into the candle lit room and stared at his fiancée, taking in her appearance as she handled him a scotch on the rocks.

"I want to share something with you," she said as she motioned for him to sit on the barstool beside her."I was going through some boxes and I came across the shaving kit my grandmother gave my grandfather. It reminded me of a fantasy I have," she replied as she slipped this suit jacket off and tossed the already undone tie towards to sofa.

"Another fantasy," he said with amusement."I thought reality at least matched fantasy, last night."

"Come on Jack," she countered with a pout and she ran her hands over his bare chest."I bet you've never had anyone give you a close shave before. Let me be the first."

McCoy took a long pull from his drink before setting it on the table and dutifully nodding. Still feeling the weigh of a fresh heap of guilt after the night before, he saw the shave as a way to buy time. It was a way to avoid the questions he knew she wanted to ask him.

This is crazy, he told himself as she carefully placed a warm towel over his face. I love Brooke, I proposed to Brooke and I'm going to marry Brooke…Vanessa is playing games…she always did enjoy keeping me off balance...this time she's full of crap…I proposed months before the kidnapping…so what if Brooke had already shot Samantha Weaver? I knew I wanted her long before…No, I loved her. That first night… when we just held each other, I knew…

"Jack? Are you still with me," she asked as she removed the towel and handed him the drink she had refilled.

McCoy smiled at her as the sound system began playing one of his favorite jazz instrumentalists DVD's.

"I wondered what I did with that."

"It was in the case with Sinatra's greatest hits,"she explained as she layed the smock over his chest and shoulders."Now, why don't you finish that before I put the creme on your face?"

Malinowski watched as he downed his second scotch in a half an hour. She shrugged off her own guilt at encouraging a habit they were both working on giving up. She knew it was wrong of her to deliberately get him drunk. But she also knew if she wanted to get passed his stubborn streak, that streak that made him want to carry his burdens alone, desperate measures were needed.

"How did things go in Islip," he asked as he set down the empty glass.

"Well. All the loose ends are tied and Cohen sends you his best," she said as she straddled him to carefully apply the warm, thick creme to his face and throat.

As the brush moved over his chin and down his neck, he could feel his shoulders relax, as his lower region responded to the seductive strokes of the brush.

"It feels good, doesn't it Jack," she whispered softly, as his hands reached for the hooks on the front of the merry widow. "Not yet. Think about it. Topless shaving might sound like fun, but one slip of the blade and it could be tragic."

McCoy chuckled along with her and let his hands fall to her waist. He wasn't sure if it was the liquor or the warmth of shaving creme or just simply the proximity of himself to his lover, but McCoy could feel himself beginning to let go.

"It feels wonderful. Maybe we should think about getting you a station at the shop around the corner."

"I only do this for a select clientele," she said with amusement, as she reached for the blade."So tell me, how did things go here, in Manhattan?"

"Humm, you know how much I hate these things. All talk and no follow through," he murmured as he felt the blade begin to run over his cheek.

"No. I mean in Manhattan while I was gone."

"Cases, continuances, and all of the usual crap," he said absentmindedly.

"Really? Nothing in particular pops out at you?"

McCoy could hear the ominous change in her intonation; her voice going from that of playful seductress to probing prosecutor. He knew better than to let his body give him away. He willed himself not to tense up, as he opened his eyes.

What the hell?...What was I thinking, McCoy asked himself as he stared at the machete like blade in his fiancées hand. The gleam of the shiny silver blade made him realize the vunerablity of the position he'd allowed himself to be put in.

Logically, he knew Malinowski would never slit his throat.

She was an intelligent, rational being who loved him. But, she was also a woman. A woman who, judging from the tone of her voice, had somehow found out more about what had went on in Manhattan while she was away than she had let on.

"You realize that blade is long enough to be considered a concealed weapon on the street?"

Malinowski nodded as she dripped the knife into the basin, carefully wiping off the excess creme with a damp washcloth. As McCoy moved to step down, her free hand pushed him back down.

Hard.

"Brooke, I can explain and I can do it much better without a knife at my throat," he snapped.

"Jack, I don't want an explanation. I want the truth," she said as she ran the blade over his jugular vein."All of it. Now."

McCoy knew better than to even try to get her to tell him where she'd gotten her information. She had spent the day at the office, with Cohen…

How would Jake know about Vanessa…not that there's anything to know…not anything worth this…

"You know I don't react well to threats, Brooke."

Malinowski met his stubborn gaze with one of her own.

"Then don't put me in a position to have to make them," she countered, setting the blade on the table."If you don't have enough trust…enough respect for me…to tell me the truth we really don't have very much, do we Jack?"

"The truth is I let myself be manipulated by Vanessa," he said as he pulled the plastic smock off and stood.

"How?"

"I never would have been alone with her if I hadn't bought her story about needing a last minute speaker at that damned banquet. Danielle will back me up if I need a character witness," he added sarcastically.

Malinowski turned away from him to pick up her robe off of the sofa.

I never would have been alone with her, she wordlessly said to herself. Alone? He was alone with that bitch in heat Galiano….

As she covered herself she closed her eyes and willed herself to not tip her hand until she heard it all. From the way he was talking, Malinowski knew McCoy thought she knew much more than she actually did.

When his hand met her shoulder, she whirled around and met his gaze with deceivingly dry eyes.

"What happened when you were alone with her Jack," she demanded, the knot on her stomach telling her she already knew what his answer would be, but knowing she had to hear it from him.

"I didn't sleep with her," he shouted defensively. "I don't plan to sleep with her..."

"But you wanted to, didn't you," she shouted back, as she stormed up to him. "Damn you Jack. You want her but you think you're going to play the martyr and marry me out of... what? Guilt? Obligation? You arrogant, egoistical son of a..."

"I have only one thing to say to that," he countered with the coolness of a card player who has an unbeatable hand. "Mike Logan."

The basin bowl went flying with the detectives name still ringing in her ears and McCoy dropped to the ground; the bowl to shattering against the wall behind him.

"Gee Jack, when did I have time to have an affair with Logan? Before or after I was kidnapped and raped? If it wasn't for Logan I'd be dead. I never lied to you about Mike Logan. By omission or any other way. I told you why I met him at the Traven on the Green the last time I..."

"You never told me about the day he found you,"McCoy responded schrewdly."I've read enough police reports to know when something is missing. Van Buren pulled Logan's discipline statements from the files that went to my office. Something happened. Something that warranted him getting suspended."

"Hello counselor, I was rushed to the hospital for a reason," she snapped back, unwilling to be distracted by McCoy's insinuations. She knew all that had transpired with Logan was a well meaning, if ill thought out, kiss."Even if you're right, it doesn't matter because I never slept with Mike. You had an affair with this bitch and she wants you back. Do you not get that?"

"She's not a bitch."

"What," she gasped, as angry tears found their way down her cheeks."That's your counter argument? ' She's not a bitch?' That woman tries to seduce you not once but twice, knowing damn well we're engaged and you want to defend her?"

"I wasn't defending her. I just meant this is on me, not Vanessa," he said as he picked up his shirt and the empty glass. "I made a commitment to you and I should have been smarter about … "

"You made a commitment,"she asked as she impatiently wiped the tears from her face and looked into his eyes."Is that what this is about Jack? You forfilling your obilgations?"

"No," he said just a bit too fast, as he unsuccessfully reached for her."Listen. Let's not do this. I love you, that hasn't changed. What happened or didn't happen..."

"I love you too," Malinowski interjected, her voice almost inaudible as her throat tightened, while she curled up in the corner of the sofa."I loved you enough to break my commitment to Sam. I loved you enough to give up my home…the life that I built…I love you Jack, but not enough to give up my self respect. I won't be the woman that you come home to when you'd rather be somewhere else."

"Brooke, that's not..."

"The hell it's not," she replied with unexpected finality, as she scooped his key ring off the coffee table and tossed it to him."Get out. Get out and don't come back until you know what you really want. Go and maybe, if you decide to come back, I'll still be here."