McCoy watched with a sense of smug satisfaction, as his lover walked carefully crossed the room, hugging the white dress shirt that had been discarded hours earlier against her otherwise naked body. She moved with more of a hobble, than a stride; a condition resulting from a night of little sleep and much passion.

It wasn't her obvious discomfort that McCoy feel slightly arrogant that morning, it was the reason for his lover's discomfort that gave the man on the farside of fifty a feeling of self satisfaction. Although the couple had what most people would consider a healthy sex life, the events that occured after McCoy and Malinowski left the Prescott's wedding reception, were above and beyond even McCoy's wildest expectations.

For a fleeting second he wondered if someone had spiked the drinks with Viagra at the celebration.

"What are you looking at," Malinowski demanded playfully, as she returned to his arms.

"I'm looking at the only woman who's ever made me glad my name is John," he said as he ran his hands over her torso, resting them on her waist, while he nuzzled the place where her neck met her shoulders."From the looks of things, I think I owe you a massage, if not an apology."

"An apology...I don't think so. A massage? If you think you're getting off that easy counselor, think again," she said with a grin."By my calculations, based on what the going rate for a 'Pro' to stay through the night was when I did my rotation in Sex Crimes, I'd say you owe me a couple of thousand dollars, easy."

"Don't forget to credit me for the shirt," he countered with a low laugh, as his hands began to roam under the buttonless material.

"Oh yeah," she said with a laugh as she looked down at the shirt."Sorry about that. Hey, I've been with you shopping enough to know you don't usually buy top of the line, what's the story with this shirt, Jack?"

"Danielle made it clear I was to dress to the nine's for her wedding," McCoy explained. "I assumed that meant a new shirt and tie. Seriously, maybe I should run you a bath?"

Malinowski shook her head as she turned on her side; encouraging him to spoon her while his hands carefully fondled her tender nipples.

"I don't want to move and not just because screwing all night like a twenty year old makes this middle aged body feel like it belongs to an eighty year old. Last night was heaven. I wouldn't change any thing about it."

"I'd take your body over the body of any twenty year old," McCoy whispered."The things you do with that body are … are magical."

Malinowski turned her head to look into the dark eyes that held a tenderness that matched the gentle strokes than had moved from her breast downward. Every part of her body was deliciously sore from the night that alternated between wild, passionate love making and interment cat naps, as the couple made up for the weeks they had been apart.

As sore as she was, the gentle touch of her lover's hands was awakening her desire to let him have her, yet again. Her soreness was a testament to how raw and sensual their desire had been.

"Magical," she repeated as the steady sound of the rain outside grew louder and faster."I thought last night was Sam and Danielle's night for magic?"

"There was enough magic in that room last night that I thought maybe Danielle had invited Harry Houdini himself," McCoy quipped as his warm hands moved up her goose bump ridden arms. "When the rain comes down like that, this place gets a draft. Maybe I should turn the heat up or get another blanket?"

Malinowski snuggled closer to him, as she shook her head.

"No, stay with me.," she replied in a small, soft voice that made him smile, as she caught his hand."We'll keep each other warm. Ironic isn't it?

"What?"

"This magical moment we're sharing…who'd of thought my ex-husband would not only have had a hand in making it happen, but did you ever dream Sam would literally push me into your arms?"

McCoy shook her head, chuckling as he recalled how stunned he'd been to find he'd switched dance partners in the blink of an eye.

"Have to admit, that is going in the books as one of life's great ironies…at least for my life…as was..."

When her lover's voice trailed off, Malinowski looked expectantly over her shoulder. Part of her inwardly cringed, sensing some sort of confession was on the tip of his tongue. After all the bumps in the road they had experienced as of late, part of her wanted to just lay silently, blissfully ignorant, in his arms and listen to the rain.

After several seconds she finally reached a hand to his neck and kissed him full on the lips.

"As well as?"

"I have to admit, that day you came out to the house at the start of that whole mess with Samantha Weaver, I never thought I'd have a chance in hell of lying like this with you."

"Wow, that seems like another lifetime ago, doesn't it," she responded, as her mind reflected on seeing him that day for the first time in so many years.

When she had returned the call from the officers at McCoy beach house, she had been more than a little shocked to hear the circumstances of the burglary call from the soon be DA's property. She grew even more suprised when she arrived and found Jack McCoy waiting for her outside on, his porch looking irate and yet charmingly bewildered, at the same time. It was a look in spite of the hard time she given him, she found instantly irresistible.

Malinowski turned to face him, her eyes growing amused when she began to suspect the meaning of his statement.

"You thought you'd never have a chance with me? Are you serious? Jack I thought I was widowed, not dead! Did you really think I was immune to the McCoy Mystique?"

McCoy gave her an uncertain smile, cringing at her description. He was well painfully aware of the perception that had grown stronger over the years regarding his prowliness with women. While not entirely undeserved, the 'legend' of Jack McCoy 'Ladies Man' had become a source of annoyance, as well as embarrassment, over the last several years for him.

Yes, he'd slept with more than his share of assistants. Even though the pursuit women had always come easily to him, McCoy had never really understood what it was about him that seemed to attract them so effortlessly.

McCoy saw himself simply as a working class kid who'd make good; not as the legal professions version of some kind of a Lothario.

"Jack," she continued running a thoughtful hand over his chest, sensing his discomfort. "I always knew there was more to you than a good line, but..."

"But?"

"Ah…I get it now," she said with sudden understanding."You thought the widow Prescott was unattainable …maybe the ultimate challenge?"

McCoy remembered Galiano's words with increasing shame: …talk about unattainable…admit it Jack, getting Sam Prescott's widow into your bed had to outweigh just about any notch on your bedpost…

"Not consciously…not after…,"he began, too mortified to bring himself to finish.

"Oh my God… Jack," she said with amazement.""What in hell did those nuns do to you when you were a kid, anyway? How can you feel guilty about ...do you realize the amount of unnecessary hell you put yourself through on a regular basis? Just because I didn't jump into bed with every guy that offered doesn't mean….remember last night? Does the word 'selective' mean anything to you? I was selective but that doesn't mean … don't you remember how long we waited? I should say you waited? I had to practically drag you into this very room before you'd make love to me."

"I didn't want you to have any regrets afterwards," he said softly. "But, I can't deny the fact that after Sam came back… when you had a choice…no matter what I said I would have done anything I had to if it meant keeping you in my life, as well as my bed."

"I think that's called 'love', Jack."

"More like playing to win," he countered bluntly.

Exasperated, Malinowski's head fell back on her pillow as she stared at the smooth plaster above her.

"How do you think I felt when I threw that drink at Vanessa? Hell, Jack do you have any idea what an ego boost it is for a woman, not a gorgeous, dewy eyed young woman…but a middle aged, premenopausal woman, whose eyes have seen so much she need Visine to clear the dirt from of them… do you know how it made me feel when old Hang 'Em High himself not only took me to bed , but wanted to make it legal?"

"Come on Brooke," McCoy interjected impatiently. "It's not the same thing. First of all, you're too sharp to fall for that whole McCoy Mystique crap."

Malinowski shook her head as she pulled the covers back.

"This conversation calls for some real food…some brain food," she replied as she stood."As well as some coffee. God, I hope you have something left in the fridge."

"Nonresponsive," he countered with a smirk.

Malinowski tossed his robe in his direction, as she turned in the doorway.

"You're right. It wasn't just the mystique. It if it had been, I'd have slept with you a few times and broken it off myself, before you had a chance to break it off yourself," she said with equal smugness."Damned if I'd have set myself up to be just one more ADA that let Jack McCoy get into her pants and before you get all self righteous, I suspect you'd have done the same thing if you suspected for a second I was just after the equally unattainable Jack McCoy."