"When you go to court, Mrs Wilson," Jack McCoy said, "Ms Melnick will take you through what your husband did, as we've practiced. Then your husband's attorney will have the right to ask you questions."
The woman sitting on the other side of the table in the 181st Street Community center nodded.
"It could get rough," Danielle Melnick said. "In fact, it usually does get rough. So we're —" She stopped, and put a hand to her mouth. "So we're going to —" Another pause.
"Dani?" McCoy asked, turning to look at her. She was pale, her forehead beaded with sweat.
"Excuse me a minute," she said rapidly, bolted from her chair and lunged for the door.
"Why don't you get yourself a glass of water," McCoy suggested to their client, and followed Danielle.
His legs were longer, but Danielle was running, and he didn't catch up with her until she banged through the door to the alley and stopped, leaning over with her hands braced on her knees.
"Dani?" he asked. "You okay?"
"Do I look okay?" she snapped, and threw up.
McCoy gathered her hair away from her face as she retched and put his other arm around her shoulders. "Bad chicken salad?" he asked when she seemed to be done. "Why don't you go home? I can finish up with Mrs Wilson on my own." She shook her head. "Or we can reschedule, prep her tomorrow. There's still two weeks before she has to take the stand."
Danielle straightened up. "I'm not going to feel any better tomorrow," she said. "Shit. This wasn't how I planned to break it to you. I'm afraid we have a perpetuities problem of our own, Jack."
"A perpetuities — you're pregnant?" When she nodded, he took a deep breath. "I thought you were protected."
"So did I," Danielle said. She took a step backward, arms folded.
"What are you going to do?" McCoy asked.
Her eyes narrowed. "You mean, what are we going to do."
"Yes. But you have to tell me what it is that you want us to do, first."
"Don't you have an opinion?" Danielle asked.
McCoy shook his head. "I had an opinion when you stuck your hand in my pants and said do you want to come home with me. I recall that I was enthusiastically in favor. At this point, your opinions are what matters."
Danielle frowned up at him. "You're a Catholic. Are you saying you'd really be okay with it if I decided to get an abortion?"
"I was raised a Catholic. I thought I'd given you plenty of evidence that I'm not particularly wedded to the teachings of the church." He paused. "Whatever you want to do, Dani, whether it's a trip to Planned Parenthood, or a walk down the aisle. I'm up for it."
"God, Jack." Danielle looked away for a moment. "I love you. But I'm not going to marry you. And I'm not going to have your baby."
McCoy nodded slowly, not sure if he felt relief or regret, keeping both from his face. "How much money will you need?"
"I've got it covered."
"Dani." He took her hand. "I'll pay half. And I'll come with you to the appointment."
"I can manage –"
"I know." McCoy squeezed her fingers. "But Dani, it's your choice, and our responsibility. You didn't get pregnant by on your own. You shouldn't have to deal with it alone, either."
She was silent a moment, and then wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. "I do love you, Jack. I just … there's too much I want to do for me to have time to be Mrs Jack McCoy."
He ran his hand over her hair. "I know. Or I would have asked you already."
Danielle raised her head to glare up at him. "You think I'd wait around for that patriarchal bullshit? I would have asked you. And you would have said yes, if you know what's good for you."
"I do," he said. He kissed her forehead. "You're what's good for me, Danielle Melnick. And you always will be."
A/N: Abortion became legal in New York City in 1970, 3 years before Roe V Wade.