Irreconcilable Differences

These characters are the property of Dick Wolf & Co. The below story is solely for entertainment purposes only. NO profit here!!

Elizabeth Donnelly hit the button and watched the elevator doors slowly close, absentmindedly tapping her black crocodile clutch in against her side. It was just past nine p. m. on a rainy Thursday night. The question in Donnelly's mind wasn't would Jack McCoy still be in his office, but would he be in his office alone?

The elevator door slid noiselessly open. She walked by the empty reception area pausing at the darkened office next to McCoy's. She shook her head. She was a judge now. It had been a lifetime since she researched cases and prepared witnesses in that office. So many dramas, personal and professional, that had gone on in that office. Now they seemed unimportant and trivial.

McCoy was alone on the long leather couch; tie and suit jacket carelessly tossed on the end of the couch. Donnelly watched the steady rise and fall of his chest a few moments. Scotch bottle beside an empty glass on the floor. The handsome face was relaxed, eyes closed. No sign of the courtroom legend that could break a murderer on the stand as easily as he could charm even the most cautious of women.

Donnelly wondered if the reputation actually helped him more than it hurt him. Over the years, she'd heard enough of powder room conversations to know many women viewed Jack McCoy as a challenge, based his reputation of Hogan Place's Don Juan . A few times she'd thought about warning off one of these stupid women, but changed her mind. If you want to play with fire maybe you deserve to get burned.

The deep brown eyes slowly opened, then widened as McCoy sat up.

"Liz, what brings you here," he said absently running a hand through his thick graying hair.

She picked up the bottle and glass, setting them on the desk. "I'm surprised you still have a liver left to kill."

"Your sole reason for caring whether I live or die ended when Elizabeth Ann turned twenty one." Donnelly looked him with an expression McCoy had named 'The Martyr Look', He had seen it often in the final years of the marriage. The perfect combination of pain and superiority.

"Good to see your brush your with death didn't effect the legendary McCoy charm", she said in a cool tone, that held the dispassionate edge that had been her trademark, as an EADA. She sat on the edge of the desk.

"That's why you're here," he asked, his tone softening, slightly.

"Believe it or not, Jack, when some one gets shot not a yard from the father of my child, I take an interest. Are you really alright?"

Shame filled his face as he gestured for her to sit beside him," God, Liz I'm sorry. Of course, I'm alright. I was a little shaken up at first, but I'm fine."

She nodded, "Sure you are," she said both of them knowing she was aware of the lie.

"You know Jack, all those years we worked here, in the same building…. the care we took to avoid each other…by the time Arthur came in, I think we had done such a good job burying the past no one even remembered we'd been married to each other once."

"Or those that did had died or retired," he said with a chuckle.

"When I heard what happened to you, well, let's just say, it put a lot of things in perspective," she said quietly. "Including things I have stayed out of too long."

He raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Elizabeth Ann is downstairs."

"Liz, no-", he said rising to regain the bottle of scotch.

"Jack, you could have died today. If you had, she would have had to live with the fact she was too stubborn to make things right with her father. Would you really want her to carry that around for the rest of her life?"

"That's emotional blackmail," he said knowing she was right.

" From a woman you once said had no emotions," she smiled at the irony.

"We both said a lot of foolish things back then." He paused for a moment, putting the bottle back on the desk." What makes you think she'll listen?"

Donnelly moved toward the rack and picked up the green jacket. She smiled to herself as she tossed it to him. She remembered the way the baby had held onto the jacket sleeve when she started by the rack of coats at Macy's. No matter hard Donnelly tried, the baby wouldn't let go of it. Elizabeth Ann knew what baby's Christmas gift to Daddy was going to be.

"She'll listen."