Jack McCoy Is A Gift From Heaven

poc, lgbtq, disabled people, those going through poverty:

“It sounds like you think you know quite a bit.”

McCoy: “Which begs the question of why your office continues to keep us in the dark. Particularly when you have the evidence we need to convict a murderer!”

“This issue is very complex, Mr. McCoy.”

“So how did everything go?” Jack McCoy was smug. He was a smug sonovabitch and he knew it. Was it the crosses arms, forearms negligently exposed by his rolled up sleeves? Was it the glint in his eyes that would put even the god of mischief to shame and quite clearly told you of his intent? No, you rather thought it was his smile - lips curled wantonly and willingly.

He was a bastard.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it, “Shut up,”

“Pleading the fifth?”

“Trying to avoid violating the eighth,” you bit back, highlighting a line so hard that you broke the tip. You grit your teeth, as Jack‘s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing - smart man. “You knew exactly what you were throwing me into and you couldn’t give me a courtesy call?”

“The deal was-“

“The deal was I could get my first case on my own if I could handle the discovery, including the initial depos and interrogatories for this case,” you stood, strolling around your desk, keeping your fists carefully concealed in the pockets of your dress pants, “You didn’t tell me I was walking into an extravaganza of sandbagging and shady dealings.”

Jack’s smile was poorly hidden, “Did they teach you that in law school?”

“No, extravaganza was from my college years,” you replied drily, “Not to mention the fact the attorney was your lover.”

Jack took pause, you assumed to avoid choking on his words, “Do I detect jealousy?”

“I detect that you were intimately aware of your previous paramour’s methods and sent me to clean up your mess,”

Jack sighed, “If you can’t deal with this then maybe you don’t belong-“

“Don’t give that shit,” you lifted a stack of papers and files onto your desk, “everything we need is right here. You already know this because I know you were talking deal with your lover.”

“You could call her by her name,”

“Not with methods like that,” you scoffed, sitting back down behind your desk, “was this some sort of hazing?”

“Hazing?”

“Yeah was that before your time or something?” He wrinkled his brow, chuckling, “why did you do this to me?”

He considered it, slowly rounding your desk as he spoke, “Because I knew there was a 50-50 chance you could handle it, and if you could handle this mess, then you were ready to handle cases on your own.” He held out his hand to you, “good job.”

You took it, smiling, before you tagged him forward and he stumbled an inch or two from your face, “You just didn’t want to do it, did you?”

Ah, there was that smile again.

“A man doesn’t kiss and tell.”