TITLE: Changes AUTHOR: coolbyrne RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: Cross-over fic with “Law & Order”, DSR implied, AU DISTRIBUTION: Wherever. SPOILERS: None. BEFORE YOU BEGIN: Normally I don’t bother, but I suppose I should sort out some kind of timeline here. With references to his time in NY, I would put this near the end of S8. Mulder is.. well, I have no interest in Mulder. And Scully’s just as interested as I am. Oh, and the William debacle? Please. DISCLAIMER: Now that my show is over, I, Chris Carter, will devote my time not to surfing… but to writing fanfic!! MWAHAHAHA…er.. no. Not mine. SUMMARY: Doggett returns to NY to testify in an old case, but discovers the trip has a larger effect on him personally. FEEDBACK: Comments/constructive criticism gratefully accepted. Flames will be mocked in other forums. AUTHOR’S NOTE: Don’t worry if you don’t watch L&O, it’s not necessary in order to follow this story. It’s not a true crossover, per se, but more of a chance for me to explore/create a possible background angle for Doggett, now that 1013 can’t screw it up. *grin* I also wanted to see how other characters outside of XF would think of Doggett. I mean, I know he’s noble and brave and hotter than Hell’s asphalt, but that’s because I’ve come to these conclusions myself; it’s not really because I’ve had other characters TELL me. I think it’s important as a viewer to have this kind of validity given by those around the character. So I made him a former cop from Precinct 27 (the L&O precinct) and had those characters “tell” me what they thought of him. If you really want, there’s a short summary of the L&O characters at the end of the story. Oh, and there really is a pub called O’Reilly’s on W31st in New York.. and one of their bartenders is named James. I hope he doesn’t mind. SPECIAL THANKS: To George K, age three. The youngest Doggett/RP fan I know. To Lisa K, my beta reader extraordinaire. The most generous Doggett/RP fan I know. * * In the colour of the night And all the smoke for one life Gives way to shaky moments And improvisational skills In the forest of whispering speakers, Let’s swear that we will Get with the times In a current health to stay Let’s get friendship right Get life day to day “A Good Life if You Don’t Weaken” by The Tragically Hip (www.thehip.com) * “Hey,” she said, as she walked into their basement office. Doggett turned from the filing cabinet to face the sound. “Hey,” he repeated, and added a smile to his greeting. After hanging up her coat, Scully made her way towards her desk and put her take-out coffee near her pencil holder. “I would have brought you a coffee if I had known you’d be here.” “S’ok,” he said, cramming some nondescript manila file into its place. “I won’t be here too long anyway.” “Yeah, I thought you’d be on a plane to New York already.” “My plane doesn’t leave until one.” He looked at the stack of files on his desk. “I thought I’d try to finish up as much as I could before I left. I don’t want to leave too much for you to do.” Scully rolled her eyes. “I’ll try to carry on without you.” Doggett dropped into his chair and looked across to her. Placing a hand over his heart, he said, “Now that hurt me, right here.” Seeing the look on his face, she smiled and amended, “You didn’t let me finish. What I meant was, I’ll try to carry on without you, but I just can’t imagine being able to.” He pondered this for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “Nice try, but too late. See if I bring you back anythin’ from New York.” Scully laughed, but to Doggett, it seemed to be a laugh beyond his joke. “What?” he asked. “You said ‘Noo Yawk.’” “I didn’t.” “You did.” “I’m from Georgia. How could I possibly say ‘Noo Yawk’?” Scully shrugged, but continued laughing. He gave her a mock-stern look, but it quickly softened into a grin. Once her laughter subsided, she asked, “How long do you think the trial will be?” Doggett shrugged. “I dunno. The D.A figures my testimony would be last, so I’m not thinkin’ anythin’ past a day after that, maybe two, dependin’ on how long the jury has to deliberate.” “Were you surprised to get a phone call from the New York D.A after all this time?” “Yeah, a bit,” he admitted. “But you never know how things are gonna pan out. A case you think is never gonna be closed suddenly gets a big break because of some perp who finally makes a mistake, or because of some cop who sees somethin’ that’s been right in front of his eyes all this time. Sometimes it’s just all about timin’.” “And which is it with this one?” she asked. “Typical pedophile case. These bastards just don’t stop. We thought we had this guy eight years ago, but he got off on a technicality. I guess he laid low for a while, knowin’ we were on to him, but stickin’ with the usual profile, he did it again. It took him a while, but he did it. This time, somethin’ happened and he killed the girl.” Doggett’s mouth turned down with this information. Scully closed her eyes briefly. “Anyway,” he went on, “everythin’ got pulled up again, so I’ve been asked to give my two cents.” “I thought you couldn’t bring up previous crimes during trial,” she said. “The D.A said he’s gonna use it to establish a pattern of behaviour, so thanks to the complicated strings of our judicial system, apparently he can get this in. Jack McCoy’s one helluva lawyer, so if he says he can get it in, I believe him.” Scully took a sip of her coffee. “It never really occurred to me until now, but I guess this is all going to be pretty familiar for you, isn’t it? Back to your NYPD days.” “Yeah,” he nodded with a smile, “I’ve been in a few of McCoy’s trials before, and I even know one of the cops who turned this case.” “Just like old times.” “Yeah, maybe.” He looked around the office and his gaze fell on her. “On the other hand, it seems like lifetimes ago.” Now it was her turn to smile. “Boy, I know that feeling.” She took another sip then continued, “But I imagine, once you get back to your old stomping grounds, it’ll all fall back into place. In fact, Monica called me,” she paused, waiting to see his eyebrows raise in curiosity. “When I told her you were going to have at least four free days in New York, by yourself, she wondered if one of us shouldn’t go with you. Not for your sake, mind you, but for the sake of the city.” Doggett leaned back and laughed. “That’s me. Mr. Wild Child.” Scully leaned forward, shadowing his move. Placing her elbows on the desk, she adopted her best Serious Face. “Now really. A single man, moderately ‘really hot,’ according to the secretarial pool,” his ears tinged red at this, “alone in the Big Apple for a week. The ramifications of this event may be felt for years to come if it all goes wrong.” “Or if it all goes right,” he smirked. “See?” she said. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Once their laughter subsided, Scully asked, “So how are you about all this?” Doggett frowned and returned with his own question. “What do you mean? You mean about the case or me goin’ back to New York?” She gave a little shrug and replied, “Maybe a bit of both.” He came around and sat on the corner of his desk. Looking down at his hands, he answered, “I’ll always have great memories of New York. No matter what happened later on, I spent some of the best years of my life there.” Now raising his eyes to meet hers, he continued, “As for the case, if it all goes down the way McCoy thinks it will, then we can chalk one up for the good guys.” He paused, and gave her a small, soft smile. “One less thing to keep me up at night.” Scully saw the pain in his eyes and knew he saw every case, every injustice as a personal mission. As much as they try and teach you at the academy not to make emotional connections with your work, she knew how hard it was. And she knew he just wasn’t that kind of man not to put his heart in everything he did. In an effort to lighten the mood, she tilted her head towards the large stack of files on his desk and bantered, “Well, when you come back, I’m sure we can find something here to occupy your mind at three in the morning.” His small smile grew into a larger grin as he looked around the office and saw some of the clippings on the bulletin board. “Yeah, I have no doubt about that. I guess it’s the things right here on Earth that scare me more.” Her eyebrow raised in mock surprise. “I thought you told me you weren’t afraid of anything?” He laughed at this memory; the two of them standing out in the middle of goddamn nowhere, when he made his claim of bravado. “Well, maybe it was a bit of manly over-exaggeration.” The corner of Scully’s mouth twitched and she feigned innocence. “Oh really?” Standing up and making his way to the door, he drawled, “Yeah, but don’t tell anyone, ok?” “It’ll be our little secret,” she promised. He shook his head in amusement and put on his coat. “And on that note, I gotta go.” “How are you getting to the airport?” she asked, meeting him at the door. “I’m gonna cab it,” he answered. Scully frowned. “You should have told me. I would have driven you.” She saw his shrug and said, “Call me when you leave New York. I’ll come and pick you up.” Knowing how resistant he was to asking for help, she repeated it more firmly. “I’ll come and pick you up. Call me. I mean it.” Raising his hands in surrender, he replied, “Ok, ok. I’ll call ya.” He saw her look and reiterated, “I’ll call ya. I promise.” Seemingly pleased with this vow, she touched his arm with her hand and said, “Have a good trip. Enjoy yourself. But not too much.” He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug before leaving her at the door. * The automatic door opened and Doggett took his first step outside La Guardia Airport. He paused momentarily, oblivious to the people brushing past him. His face tilted up to the sun, he closed his eyes and took in the moment. Almost five years since he’d last been in New York, but it felt like he had never left. Sometimes he wondered what life would be like if he hadn’t. The blaring of horns jolted him from his reverie. “Stop thinkin’ so much,” he chastised himself. He had a job to do here and needed to put that first. Climbing into the nearest cab, he tossed his bag into the back and gave the address. “Welcome back,” the cabbie said, and flicked on the meter. Doggett turned his head from the window and looked at the driver. “How did you know I was from New York?” The driver looked into his rearview mirror at Doggett and chuckled, “I recognize that accent anywhere. You can leave the city, but it never leaves you.” Doggett returned the chuckle and admitted, “No, I guess not.” Turning back to the view, he added, “It’s good to be back.” He thought about this for a moment, then repeated it with more conviction. “It’s good to be back.” * Stepping into the formidable building that housed the offices of the district attorneys, Doggett glanced at his watch and was glad to see he had made it all in good time. The traffic from the airport had been a bitch (no surprise there), but he had still made it to the hotel and had time for a quick shower before his meeting with McCoy. He walked into the large reception area and approached the desk and the nameplate that read, ‘Carol Pierce’. The owner of the title lifted her head at the sound of his footsteps and asked, “Yes? May I help you?” “Yeah,” he answered, “My name’s John Doggett. I’m with the F.B.I. I have an appointment to see Jack McCoy.” “One moment, please,” she replied and picked up the phone. He glanced around the office while she announced his arrival, and she took the moment to surreptitiously give him the once over. His eyes ran out of places to go and landed on hers. She darted her gaze from his, but it was too late. Her smile was her admission of guilt and his own face betrayed his amusement. “Go on in,” she said in a tone that attempted to retain some dignity. He tapped his fingers lazily on the corner of her desk and said, “Thanks.” * He approached the office and took a quick look through the slatted blinds of the door. Sure enough, there was the man himself, Jack J. McCoy, EADA. Though the hair had gone grayer and the lines on his face deeper, betraying his 58 years, he looked very much like he did the last time Doggett had seen him. There was a young woman sitting in a nearby chair. Blonde, slender and more than a little attractive. Doggett chuckled at himself. “Down, boy.” He gave the door a gentle rap, and saw their heads turn towards the sound. Jack raised his hand and waved him in. Jack stood up and met Doggett halfway. “Johnny D, how the hell are ya?” the older man greeted. Doggett accepted McCoy’s outstretched hand and warm smile. The two men clasped hands on shoulders and renewed their acquaintance. The woman looked up at them and smiled. “I’m doin’ good, Jack. How about you, ya old dog?” Jack shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “Can’t complain. No one seems to listen.” He looked down at the woman in the chair. “Isn’t that right, Serena?” She looked up and feigned innocence, “What? I wasn’t listening.” Doggett laughed and Jack gave him a look. “Don’t encourage her, please.” Doggett covered his smile and McCoy continued, “John Doggett, this is my second chair, Serena Southerlyn. Serena, this is an old friend, John Doggett. He’s helping us with the Hensrud case.” She stood up and slipped her hand in his outstretched one. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Doggett.” “Please,” he smirked, “I hate it when someone calls me that. ‘John’ is fine.” “Yeah, I noticed you dropped the ‘Johnny’ pretty fast once you got out of New York and went to the big leagues,” Jack noted. Serena looked from Doggett to McCoy. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Doggett gave an explanation. “I used to be a cop here in New York. I’m a Federal agent now.” He looked over at McCoy. “And they only called me ‘Johnny’ ‘cause I was younger than all of ‘em. I don’t have that luxury now.” Jack laughed, “None of us do anymore.” A tapping came from the side door of the office before the head of an older woman peeked in. “Sorry, am I disturbing you?” “No, come on in, Nora,” Jack invited. When the woman stepped into the office, Jack said, “Johnny, this is my boss, Nora Lewin. Nora, this is Johnny Doggett. He’s testifying in the Hensrud case.” She warmly greeted him. “Nice to meet you, Johnny.” Doggett glared at a smirking Jack before gently correcting her. “If it’s all the same, ma’am, ‘John’ will do just fine.” He turned to the older man. “Isn’t that right, J.J?” McCoy raised his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, I get it. No need to drag the initials into this.” The women laughed before Nora finally asked, “So how is that Hensrud case going?” Jack gave an encouraging nod. “I think it’ll be pretty straightforward. We’ve got the two witnesses and Briscoe on the stand tomorrow, with John and the victim’s mother on the stand the following day.” “So you figure this’ll only take two days?” Doggett queried. Jack nodded again. “Yeah, I don’t foresee any problems. How long are you in the city?” “I took five days off, so there’s no rush. I wanted to make sure I was around if ya needed me.” “You gonna check out the old neighbourhood?” Jack asked. “Yeah, I might walk around a bit. I’m gonna head up to the 2-7 tomorrow and see how the boys are doin’.” “You used to work out of the 2-7?” Nora asked. “For three years.” “Small world,” Serena noted. “Too small,” Doggett remarked. “I can’t seem to get away from you guys.” Jack chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t enjoy the visit too much,” he admonished in a mock-stern tone. “I need you coherent for Wednesday. You have all your case notes?” “Everything I got, you got,” Doggett said. “I faxed you everything I had.” “Good,” Jack said. “We’ll do a quick once over of your testimony Wednesday morning.” “I’m stayin’ at the Wolcott. If ya want to get together for a drink before then, O’Reilly’s is just up the street. Give me a call.” “Ok, John,” McCoy reached out his hand once more. “Thanks for coming by. I appreciate it.” “Hey, for you, I’m there.” He then shook the hands of Nora and Serena again. “Pleasure meeting you, ladies. I hope to see you again, Ms. Lewin.” He turned to Serena. “And I guess I’ll see ya on Wednesday.” He walked to the door and gave a small wave before disappearing out of view. Nora turned immediately to Serena and fanned herself. “Carol gave me the heads up. Whew!” “He’s staying at the Wolcott,” Serena repeated. “That invitation was clearly open to all of us.” Nora patted her heart rapidly. “Those eyes!” Serena gave an exaggerated shiver. “That voice!” “He called me ‘Ma’am.” Jack snorted. “I don’t believe this. You,” he looked at Serena, “you’re almost young enough to be his daughter. And you,” he looked at Nora, “you..” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m telling on the both of you.” Nora shook her head. “Don’t you dare! I’m still your boss.” Serena echoed the motion. “No way. I’m still.. I’m…,” she faltered, realizing she had no strategic advantage. “I’m in trouble.” * It was still early enough to forego returning to the hotel. He thought about catching a bite to eat somewhere, but instead, found himself on the A train heading north. Squeezing off the subway car at 72nd street with a million other bodies, he made his way up the stairs and into the sunlight. A quick glance to his left then to his right found an opening in the traffic and he jogged across the street and into the Park. Following the paths that had been there before he was born, Doggett walked deeper into the heart of the city’s refuge. It had always amazed him, the way you could venture so far into the greenness of the Park and almost forget you were in one of the most densely populated cities in the world. It didn’t take him very long to find another of New York’s treasures. “I’ll have one of those with everythin’,” Doggett requested to the man behind the hot dog stand. It only took a quick moment, then an exchange of money and product. Doggett blissfully bit into the food before murmuring, “Man, I’ve been waitin’ five years for one of these.” The vendor laughed and said, “Hey, I’m here every day.” Doggett returned the smile and amended, “I mean they don’t make ‘em like this in Washington.” Narrowing his eyes, the man asked, “You a fibbie?” Raising his eyebrows at the question, Doggett replied, “How’d you know?” The man shrugged and laughed again. “C’mon. There are only two reasons ta live in Washington. An’ you don’t look like no politician.” He saw Doggett smile and continued, “An’ just for the record, I got all my papers right here.” He made a motion to reach under the stall. Doggett put up his hand and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not here for your papers. I’m just here for your food.” “Yeah, I see that one’s goin’ down pretty good. You want another one?” He saw Doggett toying with the idea. “C’mon. My treat for an agent of the law.” He tossed one together and handed it to him. “Besides, you’ll probably need it ta bribe the squirrels inta lettin’ you outta the park.” Doggett laughed again. “They still as big as cats?” “I gotta distract them at the end of the night so I can make a run for the exit.” “Nice to see some things never change,” he said. The vendor looked at him and nodded. “In this city, they try to make ya think it’s all about change. But we all know different. Fifteen years I’ve been in this same spot. The outside might change, but the heart of it stays the same. They can’t change that.” Doggett smiled and said, “Thanks.” The man smiled back and gave a wave. “Take it easy, fibbie. Enjoy yourself.” * He discovered what living in a vehicle-centric city for the last five years had done to him. By the time he made it back to the Wolcott, 41 blocks from where he entered Central Park, his legs were burning. He bypassed the stairs and headed straight for the elevator, thankful for the slow delivery to his room. Once inside, he tossed his suit jacket on the nearby chair and peeled off his shirt and tee. He made his way into the bathroom and stayed under the cool spray of the showerhead long enough to sluice off 41 city blocks worth of sweat and grime. Brushing himself dry, he slipped on a pair of boxers and returned to the main room. Grabbing the remote control, he flopped onto the bed and clicked on the t.v. He was just getting into the Mets game when the phone startled him out of his distraction. “Yeah?” he answered. “Didn’t your mother teach you how to say ‘hello’, Agent Doggett?” “Dana Scully?” he asked, surprised. She gave a small laugh before continuing, “You know, if there’s a woman in the room with you, saying another woman’s name on the phone isn’t going to get you very far.” Doggett chuckled and smirked, “Nah, there’s no woman here. Have you seen what they’ve done to Times Square? I wouldn’t even know where to get a woman in this city anymore. If I wanted one.” He heard her laugh again. “Besides, my body was kind enough to remind me today that I’m ill-equipped to walk 40 blocks anymore. So,” he paused, “it’s just me and the hotel adult channel tonight.” The pause drew out so long that he finally broke the silence. “That was a joke.” “Sorry,” she said, “I was suddenly flooded with a thousand images.” He laughed, and she was amazed at how good it was to hear his voice on the other end. “So,” he began, “now that we’ve got all the lurid details outta the way, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Before she could answer, he added, “And just how did you know where to call? I don’t remember leaving any information at the office.” “Well, I DO work at the F.B.I, you know.” He nodded, then put it into words. “Ya got me on that one. So, anythin’ come up at the office I should know about? Anythin’ I can help you with?” “No, nothing important happened today,” she said. She hesitated before admitting, “The office was very quiet after you left, though. I kept looking up and expecting to see you at your desk.” “Awww,” he drawled, “miss me?” Scully was thankful he couldn’t see her cheeks burn red. She was about to defend herself, before allowing herself a small concession. “Maybe a little.” He paused to think about this for a moment, then replied, “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Agent Scully.” Flustered, but oddly enough, not embarrassed by her admission, she said, “Well, don’t let it go to your head. Once you get back, it’ll be the same as it was before. I’ll give you my far-out theories and you’ll rebut them with your hard-nosed cop attitude.” “We bicker so well though, don’t we?” he asked, grinning. She gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, we do, don’t we?” A warm silence came between them. He stretched out on the bed and framed his view of the television between his feet. He was absently scratching his stomach, wondering what she was doing, when she broke the stillness. “What’s the score?” “What’s the score of what?” he asked. “The baseball game you’re watching,” she answered. “Shit,” he grumbled, “I’ve just wrecked all those images you had.” She gave a genuine, throaty laugh that did wonders for his ego. As her laughter trailed away, she said, “How did today go?” “Good, good,” he replied. “I went to see McCoy and his young, pretty assistant, Serena.” He grinned at the “Uh huh” he heard Scully mutter under her breath. “It seemed to go good. Pretty straightforward. Looks like I’ll be up to bat on Wednesday.” “Did you get a chance to do any sightseeing? I mean, besides checking out the sights of McCoy’s assistant?” Now it was Doggett’s turn to give a good laugh. “Well, after that, everythin’ else seemed pale in comparison.” He could almost see Scully’s face, the corners of her mouth turned down, her eyebrow arched in her patented look. Amending the situation before he got himself into any more trouble, he went on, “Actually, by the time I got outta the D.A’s office and walked through the park, it was gettin’ too dark to do anythin’ else. Besides, did I mention my legs are killin’ me?” “Aww..” Scully echoed his earlier sentiment. “So what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” He shrugged and said, “I dunno. Go up to the old precinct and say ‘Hi.’ Other than that..” “You’re not going to check out your old neighbourhood?” He paused, and she wondered if she should have asked. Quietly, he answered, “I dunno. I’m not sure I’m up to it, you know?” In the same quiet tone, she replied, “I know. I’m sorry.” He was thankful for her understanding and said, “S’ok. I mean, it’s not your fault, is it? It’s somethin’ I gotta deal with.” Silence descended upon them once again. This time, Doggett was the first to break it. “I should let you go. This is on your dime. Or are you chargin’ this up as a business expense?” She chuckled, then said, “No. No, this is personal time.” “Well, that’s the second nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Agent Scully.” “Should I call you tomorrow?” she asked. He nodded. “Yeah, that’d be good. Call after supper, whenever you’re free.” She gave a small affirmative reply, then he added, “And, ya know.. Thanks.” * He jogged up the stone steps of the 27th Precinct, and walked down the long hallway to the “bullpen” at the end. Poking his head in, he was quickly reminded of the barely controlled chaos of the department known as Homicide. The phones ringing, the cops bantering, the doors of cabinets slamming. He was still getting his bearings when he heard a shout. “Johnny D!” Heads turned at the sound and followed it to its recipient. The originator of the shout walked towards the door, his hand outstretched. “Jesus, is that you, Johnny?” Doggett reached out and met the gesture. “Dave Simmons. How’s life been treatin’ ya?” Simmons gave Doggett’s hand a firm shake and said, “I knew it was you. What the hell ya doin’ here? I thought you were a big fed now?” “I am a big fed now, Dave,” he answered. “I’m here to check up on you guys. There’s been some complaints that things aren’t gettin’ done around here. Word’s gone right up to the big leagues. You guys are in the shit up to your necks now, boys.” Simmons face blanched before Doggett burst out laughing. “Jesus, Dave, you haven’t changed one bit. I’m here to testify for the D.A. I’m just here lookin’ for Briscoe.” “I hope I got a spare pair of pants in my desk, ‘cause I think I just shit myself, Johnny. Jesus.” Doggett gave him a playful cuff on the shoulder, before hearing his name called out for the second time that day. “Johnny D! Well, well, well, if it isn’t the return of the big dawg.” He turned and saw the speaker. “Lennie Briscoe, how ya doin’?” The two men hugged and Lennie replied, “Well, not too bad for an old guy. Got my health. Got a new partner, and I’m five years away from retirement. Life’s good.” Lennie turned to the aforementioned partner “Ed, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine; he used to work in the 2- 7, but abandoned us to work for the feds. This is John Doggett. John, my new partner through the revolving door, Ed Green.” The two men shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Ed,” Doggett greeted. He jerked his thumb in Briscoe’s direction. “You must’ve been a bad ass in a previous life to get stuck with this one.” Ed gave a broad smile and agreed, “Yep, not a day goes by that I’m not trying to build up my karma for the next life.” “Ha, ha, very funny,” Lennie retorted. He turned to Doggett and continued more seriously, “When we pulled the case on this perp, I wondered if you’d get up here to see it through. Then I heard McCoy called you up to testify.” Doggett nodded. “Yeah, I was surprised as anybody to get the call. I never figured we’d ever be able to nail this one. Good work, Lennie.” Briscoe gave a shrug, deflecting the compliment. “Hey, it’s what we do, right? Besides, there were a lot of man-hours on this case, and you put in over half of them.” Now it was Doggett’s turn to shrug. “Like you said, it’s what we do.” Ed offered, “I’m gonna let you two catch up on things. But can I get you a coffee or anything, John?” He shook his head, “No, but thanks.” “Ok, cool,” Ed answered. “It was nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you again over the next couple of days.” When Ed was out of earshot, Doggett said, “He seems like a nice enough guy.” Lennie nodded, “Yeah, he’s a good kid. A little wet behind the ears, so we have our ups and downs at times, but who doesn’t, right?” Doggett agreed. “So, how about you, Johnny? First I hear you’re on this manhunt for a missing agent, next thing I know, you’re stuck in some basement helping E.T phone home. You talk about bad karma. I’d like to know who you pissed off in a previous life.” “Well, to tell the truth,” he said, “I chose to stay in that department.” Briscoe’s eyebrows nearly jumped off his head. “You chose to stay in Spookyville? I don’t get it. You were headed for the director’s chair, from what I heard.” Doggett gave a tilt of his head, “Maybe. But, ya know, along the way, I developed different goals, different motivations.” Lennie smirked. “Uh huh. So does Ms. Motivation have a first name?” Attempting to pick up his mouth from the floor in the most inconspicuous way possible, Doggett rubbed his chin and commented, “Ya know, Lennie, with you still on the job, I find it hard to believe there are any cases left to be solved.” “I knew it,” Lennie said. Before the conversation could go any further, they were blissfully interrupted by a female voice. “John Doggett, are you the one causing all the commotion out here?” Doggett turned and saw Anita Van Buren standing in the doorway. He crossed the space between them in five quick strides and enveloped her in an enormous embrace. “How you doin’, Lieutenant?” She pulled herself out of his arms and answered, “Better now that I’ve seen you, Handsome. What brings you to these parts?” “Well, I’ve come to see if you’re still married, of course,” he said, adopting a look of pure innocence. She rested her hands on his forearms and gave a small frown. “Yes, I am. Sorry.” He mirrored her frown then his face lit up again, as if an idea had just come to him. An eyebrow raised in devilish thought, he added, “Happily?” She slapped him on the arm and said, “Go on! I heard you were in for the Hensrud case.” He smiled and admitted, “Yeah. McCoy’s calling me on the stand tomorrow. So I thought I’d come down and see how things were. Looks pretty much the same.” Anita looked around and agreed. “Yep, pretty much the same. And how about you? Working for the F.B.I. Robbing all those women of seeing you in a uniform.” He rolled his eyes. “Though I don’t mind this uniform too much,” she murmured, as she took in the jeans, the t-shirt and the leather jacket. “Are you sure you’re happily married, L.T.?” “Hey,” she said, “I’m married. I’m not dead. So how long are you staying in the city?” “I’m here ‘til Friday. I wasn’t sure how long the jury would be after I testified. I kinda wanted to see this to the end.” “Still the same old Johnny.” She cupped his face in her hands. “But not ‘Johnny’ anymore, are you? You’ve grown into that face. Now you look more like a ‘John’. Direct and to the point. Nice to see how well you’ve turned out.” She caught the colouring of his ears and laughed. “But still as shy as a kitten. I bet the women in D.C fall all over that.” “Cut it out, L.T. I’m tellin’ your husband.” “Why don’t you tell him over dinner? Can you come over before you leave?” Doggett shrugged and took her hands in his. “I dunno. I’ll do what I can.” She looked into his eyes and frowned. “You’re not coming over.” He shook his head. “No, probably not. You understand?” Anita squeezed his hands, “Yeah, I think I do. Must be tough coming back after all this time. All those memories. I understand. But the offer’s still open if you change your mind.” He gave her another hug and whispered, “Thanks.” From across the room came the bellow of Lennie. “Hey you two, get a room.” Other detectives in the office laughed and clapped. Doggett turned around and gave them a look that would turn water to ice. Lennie laughed and said, “That might work on the new guys, Johnny, but I had three years to get used to it. And I’ve been married twice.” Approaching the two, Briscoe offered, “Hey, I gotta be at the courthouse in about half an hour to testify for McCoy. Why don’t you come down with me and see how a professional works?” Doggett feigned ignorance. “Why? I’ve seen McCoy work before.” Lennie frowned. “Wise ass. I’m talking about me.” Anita laughed and said, “Lennie’s only asking because he wants someone else to drive, and Ed’s caught on.” “Thanks for blowing my cover, L.T.,” Briscoe admonished. Doggett called out across the room. “Ed, I take it you’ve found something to do to get outta this?” Ed looked up from the pile of paperwork he was pretending to slave over. “Oh yeah. I’d love to help you out there, but,” he gestured towards the pile, “I’ve got, gee, a million things to do today.” Doggett could only shake his head and smile. Turning to Lennie, he said, “Well, c’mon then. You got the keys?” They started to make their way to the door. Lennie pulled them out of his pocket and tossed them to the taller man. Doggett scooped them out of the air and said, “You’re not driving a Crown Vic, are ya, Lennie? ‘Cause nothin’ screams ‘Cop’ like a Crown Vic, and you know I hate that.” “Oh, I see. You’re a fed and suddenly you’re mocking New York’s Finest choice of vehicles?” “I knew I should have brought the truck,” he lamented. “A truck? In D.C.? Where do you go that you would need a truck?” Doggett turned back to wink at Anita, who could still hear them arguing as they walked out of view. * He sat quietly in the back of the courtroom and watched Lennie work his “magic”, as he had put it. Doggett took a glance around the room and wondered how long it had been since he had been in a court of law. Seemed like forever since he had gone through the cut-and-dried process of arrest, prosecution, and conviction. ‘On the other hand,’ he thought wryly, ‘how do you put handcuffs on a Man-Bat or a guy who turns into metal?’ At least this case would have some kind of closure. ‘Closure,’ he thought. He looked around again. ‘Closure.’ With his testimony finished, Lennie left the witness box and sat in the back beside Doggett. “I hope you were taking notes from the master,” Briscoe said. Doggett reached into his jacket pocket and took out the set of keys belonging to Briscoe. “Here ya go.” Lennie looked at him quizzically as he stood up. “Where are you going? You’re not making me drive in this traffic, are you?” Doggett leaned down and whispered, “I gotta take care of a few things.” The older man saw the seriousness in the face of the man standing before him. He nodded and said, “You go do whatever it is you got to do, Johnny.” “Thanks, Lennie.” * He took the A train again, but this time, it was going south.. and east. To Brooklyn. Once they left Manhattan, he closed his eyes and counted the stops. At number four, he opened his eyes and found himself in familiar territory. A fifteen-minute walk from the subway brought him even closer, until he was standing outside a small white house. He hadn’t thought of what he would do once he got there, and now, unsure, simply stood and looked. He was unaware of how long he had been there, until he saw a curtain move in one of the windows and the face of a woman peer out, uncertain. ‘Now what?’ he thought to himself. ‘Do I walk away and freak her out, or do I stand here and freak her out?’ It was the opening of the door that decided for him. The woman’s face reappeared in the small space of the slightly opened door. She gave the man who had been standing at the foot of her walkway a long look. Finally, she asked, “Can I help you?” Doggett scratched a spot behind his ear and apologized. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you a scare, ma’am. I didn’t mean to. It’s just..” he gave a small laugh, ‘it’s just, I used to live here a long time ago. I haven’t been in New York for a while and I thought I’d..” ‘Thought I’d what?’ he wondered. ‘Check out the neighbourhood? See if it was the same as it was when Luke disappeared? When he and Barbara sold it and divorced?’ He shook his head, as much to himself as it was to the woman in the doorway. “I’m sorry.” Neither spoke for some time until Doggett gestured to the red brick step. “I see you fixed up that corner. I broke it when I dropped the dryer on it. I never did get around to fixing it.” The woman gave a small smile. “Took my husband forever, too.” When he mirrored her smile, she tilted her head sideways and asked, “This might sound strange, but would you like to come in?” Doggett took in a lungful of air and held it. He looked down at his feet and back up to her before slowly letting out his breath. “Nah, I don’t think so. And I don’t think your husband would be too happy knowin’ you invited a stranger in.” He gave her a grin to let her know his tone was light. She grinned back and said, “I know. I can’t believe I did it myself. But.. you seem like… you seem like you’re ok, and I’ve learned to trust my instincts over the years.” He nodded and replied sincerely, “Thanks. I appreciate it. And I appreciate the invite. But I guess I just wanted to make sure it was still here, that’s all. And it looks like you and your husband are takin’ good care of it. I guess that’s all I wanted to know. I apologize again if I frightened you.” He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and gave a small wave. She returned the gesture and slowly closed the door, allowing him one last look before he turned and walked away. * Taking the subway back to the mainland, Doggett got off at Penn Station and walked the six blocks to the hotel. He was debating his next move when the note left for him at the front desk made up his mind. Deciphering the clerk’s writing as best he could, it appeared to read, “John, I’ll be at O’Reilly’s around 5:30. Drinks on me. Jack McCoy.” He looked at his watch- just past four. Just enough time to grab a bite to eat before McCoy showed up. His stomach rumbled its approval. He thanked the clerk for the message and was halfway to the door before he turned around. Catching the attention of the man behind the counter, Doggett said, “I’m room 27. I’m half-expectin’ a phone call some time tonight. If a woman calls, can you apologize for me and let her know I’ll call her later tonight or tomorrow?” The clerk nodded and replied, “Sure.” Doggett nodded and said, “Thanks.” * His decision to grab a bite when he did was a good one. He entered the small pub down the street from his hotel and was glad to see it was rather quiet, with only the bartender endlessly wiping a spot on the bar, and an older man sitting on the end, nursing a drink. The work crowd had not yet spilled into the place, thus giving Doggett his choice of seats. He chose one at the bar, comfortable to share conversation with the bartender. “What can I get for ya?” the man asked. Doggett patted his stomach and replied, “Well, I’ll start with a Harp.” The bartender laughed, “Good choice, lad.” Pulling a pint with the experience of a man who’s made a career out of it, he dropped a cardboard coaster in front of Doggett and placed the golden amber in front of him. “There ya go. Anything else?” “Yeah, you got anythin’ to eat? A burger or somethin’?” “Sure thing. How about the house platter?” Doggett nodded his approval. “Sounds good, thanks.” “ ‘James’, “ the man said, extending a hand. “ ‘John’,” Doggett replied, returning the gesture. “Nice to meet you, John,” he answered, before excusing himself and making his way to the kitchen. * He was just polishing off the ¾ pound monster burger and fries, which James had so casually sold as the “house platter” when he heard a voice declare, “How in the world do you keep that girlish figure eating all that food?” Doggett turned slightly to the familiar voice and motioned to the empty seat beside him. “Nice to see ya, Jack.” In answer to the older man’s question, Doggett drawled, “I find chasin’ my own tail for days on end helps.” Jack dropped down on offered seat and laughed. “Yeah, I imagine chasing UFOs keeps you trim.” Doggett shook his head and gave McCoy a sidelong glance. “Word travels awfully fast up here.” James appeared in front of the two men and asked Jack, “Can I get ya something?” Jack nodded, “Yeah, I’ll have a Guinness.” “And how about you?” he asked, turning to Doggett. “I’m sure I can get Bernie to whip up some dessert if you’re interested?” Doggett held up his hands in mock surrender. “I give. But I’ll have another beer.” Once the glasses were placed before them, Jack picked up the conversation. “We like to keep tabs on our own, you know that, John.” Absently twisting the glass to and fro, he looked at McCoy. Struggling for the right words, he finally said softly, “Speakin’ of keepin’ tabs, I never got a chance to tell you I was sorry to hear about Claire.” The hard angular features of McCoy’s face softened at the name. It had seemed like forever since his dark-haired assistant had been struck by a drunk driver and killed. His mouth twitched at the memory, but he deflected the memory by bringing up one of his own. “And I never got the chance to tell you I was sorry to hear about Luke.” The two men looked at each other in silence and shared sorrow for a moment, before Doggett broke the lull. “Jesus, Jack, we’d better find somethin’ else we have in common besides tragedy, or this conversation’s gonna go into the shitter real quick.” McCoy gave him a smile and a squeeze on the shoulder. “Then let’s leave all that in the past and talk about the here and now.” Taking a long sip of the dark drink, he smirked, “Lennie told me you had a lovely woman waiting for you back in D.C.” Giving a smirk of his own and grateful for the change in mood, he shook his head and marveled, “You two are like old women. Don’t you have anythin’ better to do than discuss my non-existent love life?” Jack shrugged. “Hey, me and Lennie are past our prime, Johnny. We have to live vicariously through somebody, and you seem like a pretty good candidate. And judging by the way the women at the office swooned over you like high school girls, it looks like we picked the right man.” Doggett’s smirk grew into a full out laugh. As it slowed down to a soft chuckle, he could only shake his head. “What?” McCoy asked. “You mean to tell me you don’t have this lovely woman waiting for you back in D.C.” He scratched his eyebrow and gave McCoy a sidelong look before answering. “Now, I didn’t say that.” “So Lennie was right.” Doggett downed a mouthful of beer and looked ahead at the line of alcoholic bottles taking up residence on the shelves behind the bar. “Not quite.” He turned and saw McCoy’s questioning gaze. “She’s there, but ah..” he paused, “she’s got some things she’s dealin’ with right now. She doesn’t need me sayin’, ‘Hey, Dana, I was thinkin’. Me ‘n’ you should think about goin’ horizontal.’” Jack had also taken a swig of his beer and just about returned it back up through his nose. He coughed several times to clear his airway before saying, “Christ, Johnny. You need to warn an old guy like me before you say something like that, ok?” Wiping his eyes, he went on, “So, ‘Dana’, huh? That’s a pretty name.” “She’s a pretty girl,” he said softly. Then he added, “But don’t tell her I called her a girl. She’ll kick my ass.” McCoy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I like her already.” Doggett rolled his eyes. In a sudden moment of seriousness, Jack went on, “You know, John, I understand you having reservations about returning to New York. But you should see this as an opportunity to resolve things, not bring them back up again. It sounds like you might have a chance to start fresh in D.C. You should take it while you can.” Doggett looked at him and knew there was something deeper under this advice. He wasn’t privy to the personal life of McCoy, but he knew the rumours going around at the time about Jack and Claire. By the sorrowful look in the face of the man before him, John now knew the truth. They had been more than boss and assistant, and it looked like Jack hadn’t quite gotten over her death, even six years later. He looked into his drink and admitted, “I’ve been givin’ it a lot a thought. It’s kinda scary, though, ya know?” “Love’s supposed to be like that,” McCoy said. His eyes wide with surprise, Doggett snapped his head around to look at him. Jack waited for the dawning of realization to bring the younger man’s features back into place. “C’mon, John. I’ve been a prosecutor for over 25 years. I’m paid good money to read people. You’re not the easiest person to decipher, but the way you talk about her, the way you say her name, it’s obvious.” Doggett looked away and gave a small laugh. McCoy could only shake his head. “Obvious to everyone but you, apparently.” Doggett reached behind his neck and gave a squeeze. Almost to himself, he whispered, “Whaddaya know?” McCoy gestured to James and ordered another round. “This one’s on me, Johnny.” Doggett tilted his head and frowned. “But the message you left said ‘Drinks’.” Jack gave his best stern expression and corrected, “ ‘The drink’s on me.’ Drink. Singular. Besides, we’ve got a trial to live through tomorrow.” “How convenient, you cheap bastard,” Doggett drawled. McCoy grinned and easily sidestepped the accusation. “Speaking of the trial, we should do a quick run-through of what you might expect tomorrow.” James placed the two new drinks in front of the men. Doggett lifted up his glass and gave a mock toast. “Alright, Mr. Hot-Shot Prosecutor. Dazzle me.” * Oh, he was dazzled all right. Dazzled by the sharp points of light that were exploding behind his eyes as he rolled over to answer the eight a.m wakeup call. Mumbling a thick, “Mmmthanks,” he spent the next few minutes attempting to locate the cradle for the receiver before sprawling back on the soft mattress. Whatever he had hoped to learn from this trip, he learned one thing for certain- he wasn’t young anymore. He had guilted McCoy into buying another round, who then guilted Doggett into buying one. And Doggett was sure James had given them one on the house. And then.. well, he was glad the hotel was only a half a block away. He had staggered his way into the lobby when the midnight clerk called him over. Sure enough, Scully had called earlier in the evening. Taking a glance at his watch and snorting at the idea of returning her call at one thirty in the morning- and inebriated to boot- he had decided to expend all his energy in making it to his room, and more importantly, his bed. Now it was eight o’clock and the sunlight of what promised to be a gorgeous day streamed into the room through the window and across the bed. He threw his arm across his eyes to shut it out, but wasn’t sure if it was better just to keep them open, considering the fireworks that were going off in his brain. ‘Gettin’ outta bed should be an adventure,’ he thought. As tempted as he was to roll over, he knew he was expected to be in court at ten. So, with every authority figure he had ever known screaming in his ear, he grudgingly swung his feet out of the bed and onto the floor, before summoning up the strength and courage to make it to the shower. * After his testimony was complete and the 12 strangers were sent away to decide a man’s fate, Doggett met Serena and Jack in the lobby of the grand courthouse. The young woman looked at Doggett and said, “Your testimony went very well. Good work.” Doggett smiled and thanked her. “Me ‘n’ Jack had a chance to go through it last night, so I wouldn’t make a complete ass of myself on the stand.” Serena looked at Doggett, then to McCoy, then back again. “By the looks of you two, the testimony wasn’t the only thing you guys went through last night. I’d toss in a bottle of something into the mix, yes?” The two men looked at each other and feigned ignorance. The older man tilted his head and asked quizzically, “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about, John?” Doggett mirrored McCoy’s act and answered, “Not a clue.” “Uh-huh,” she replied. “Well, at least you two seem to be old hats at it. Things went really well in there.” McCoy frowned at his assistant. “Who you calling ‘old’?” “An’ I hate hats,” Doggett joined in. Serena could only shake her head. As McCoy organized his briefcase on a nearby bench, she turned to Doggett. “You know, you don’t have to stay for the verdict. The jury could be out for hours. They might not even come back today. We’re going to stick around here for a bit, but we’ll probably end up back at the office anyway.” He shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. I don’t really have any plans today. Besides, I’ve got a good feelin’ about this one. I think the jury’ll be back in time for lunch. Their stomachs are gonna start rumblin’ in about an hour, and that’ll encourage ‘em to make a decision.” “You’ve got this all figured out, I see,” she observed. “Well,” he answered, “I may not be a big-time prosecutor, but I know a thing or two about people and how they work.” McCoy’s short “Ha!” got a sharp look from Doggett, who figured that was McCoy’s way of reminding him of their conversation the night before. Doggett dreaded seeing Jack’s mouth open to speak, but was relieved when the only words to come out were, “If you’re going to stick around, I’m going to grab some coffee. You want some?” Serena nodded an affirmative, and Doggett did as well. “Black, no sugar, Jack.” McCoy made the mental note and turned to Serena. “Two creams, two sugars?” When he was given another nod, he said, “I’ll leave my briefcase here. You two stay out of trouble.” * “So what’s it like coming back to New York after all this time?” she asked him, as they sat down beside each other on the bench. Doggett shrugged and leaned back. “Good, I guess.” He saw her look and added, “Let’s just say I didn’t leave New York at a real good point in my life. I was kinda wonderin’ how I’d feel comin’ back again, but I think it went real good.” “I’m sorry if I brought up something that was none of my business,” she apologized. “Nah, s’ok,” he assured her. “You’re just makin’ conversation.” He watched a couple of people walk by before asking, “So, how about you? You sound like you were born in New York.” “Yep, born and bred. You’re not a New Yorker by birth, are you?” He shook his head. “No. How did you know?” “You’re not the only one who can read people,” she laughed. “Besides, I’ve been working with Jack McCoy for almost two years now. Girl’s gotta pick up something, working with the master. So you’re from..” she paused, giving it some thought, “.. Virginia? No. Georgia. Right?” He pressed his lips together in approval. “Right on.” “You’ve still got that little bit of an accent,” she noted. “Even though you say ‘Noo Yawk’.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “So I’ve been told.” “So how does a boy from Georgia become a cop in New York and then an FBI agent in D.C?” He looked out through the large windows of the building and shook his head, “I dunno.” “Jack spoke very highly of you, even before you showed up. You must have been one hell of a cop to impress Jack McCoy.” He shook his head again, deflecting the compliment. “Nah. I was a good cop. I did my best and hoped that was enough. Sometimes it was; other times..” he trailed off. She touched his arm in reassurance. “This time was one of those good times,” she said. Giving her a grin, he replied, “Yeah, I guess better late than never, huh?” “You know, most cops don’t stick around to find out the verdict. Most of them just wait for us to call and let them know. Something personal about this case strike you?” Doggett gave this some thought before answering. “No. Nothin’ specific comes to mind.” “You take a personal interest in all your cases?” When she saw the answer in his eyes, she marveled, “Wow. You do.” “Don’t you?” he asked. She paused then replied, “I don’t know. After a while, they all seem to run into one another. They’re all files.” “Maybe it’s because I get ‘em before they’re files,” he said. “When you knock on their door at three in the mornin’ to tell ‘em their husband’s been shot, or their mother’s been in an accident, or their kid’s been killed… it’s hard to just turn that all off when the time clock hits five.” He had just finished speaking when Jack returned with three steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee. McCoy handed them out and said, “Sorry, this was the best I could find.” Noting the two of them sitting on the bench, Jack asked, “So, what have I missed?” Doggett took a cautious sip from the cup and answered, “I was just tellin’ your patient assistant why I became a cop.” “Oh, you mean to meet women?” “Nah,” Doggett corrected, “that’s why I joined the FBI.” The group of three laughed at this, and as if on cue, the bailiff came out to look for them. Spotting McCoy, he gave the signal to return to the courtroom. As they made their way back in, Serena leaned in to Doggett and whispered, “Good call. Now how about the Super Bowl?” * “We, the jury, find the defendant, George Hensrud, guilty.” With that pronouncement, Doggett let out a long breath, one that seemed to have been held for eight years. He looked over at McCoy and saw the same relief on his face. The parents of the young girl leaned over the railing and embraced the D.A, words not being enough to express their thanks. Doggett caught Serena’s attention and gave a pump-fist. He joined the flow of bodies leaving the courtroom, and waited for Jack and Serena in the hallway. Jack caught sight of the tall frame and made his way towards him. “One for the good guys, Johnny,” McCoy said, as he extended his hand. Doggett shook Jack’s hand and clasped his shoulder. “Good job.” Then he looked at Serena. “Good job, the both of ya.” Serena smiled, quietly accepting the compliment before asking, “So what’s next for you? Are you staying in New York until Friday?” Doggett slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I dunno. I figure as much. My plane doesn’t leave until Friday and I booked the time off anyway.” Jack shifted his briefcase from one hand to the next and said, “Well, we’re on our way back to the office. You want to come with us? It would really make Nora's day.” Giving a grin and looking down at his feet, John replied, “Uh, no. I think I’m gonna walk back to the hotel, get some lunch or somethin’.” McCoy’s eyebrows raised. “You’re going to walk back? It’s a 30 block hike from here.” “That’s a walk in the park considerin’ the 40 block adventure I had on Monday.” The older man shook his head. “O.k. But should I give you some money for the subway, just in case?” Hiding a smirk, he added, “Should I give you a quarter so you can call me if you find yourself spent on the corner somewhere?” Doggett gave him a glowering look before assuring, “I think I’ll be o.k. But thanks, Dad.” Serena stifled a chuckle and was the recipient of a glowering look herself, this one from McCoy. Turning back to Doggett, he said, “Have it your way. But call us before you leave. We’ll all go out for a farewell drink before you go.” Reaching out his hand once again, he shook McCoy’s hand firmly. “You got it.” He offered his hand to Serena, then walked away from the pair. He was several steps away when he heard McCoy call out. “Johnny!” He turned to the sound and held out his hands as if to say, “What?” “When you talk to Dana, tell her I said ‘Hello’.” Doggett narrowed his gaze and shook his head before walking away. * He was almost to the corner when he caught sight of a familiar Crown Vic as it did its best to crawl through the noon hour traffic outside the courthouse. Twisting his way through the crush of vehicles that were going nowhere fast, he came up behind the driver’s side and grabbed the arm that was lazily hanging out the window. Lennie jumped a mile. “Jesus Christ!” Doggett leaned forward and smiled. “Nope, not even close.” Opening his eyes as his heart returned to a normal rate, he shook his head. “Johnny, I’m five years away from retirement. Don’t do that to me.” He looked around at the standstill and said, “By the looks of it, Lennie, you could die of boredom out here.” Lennie nodded. “Yeah, and you could slowly get run over to death. You want to jump in or what?” Accepting the invitation, Doggett opened the driver’s door. “Slide over.” When the older man hesitated, Doggett held out his hands. “Look, I don’t wanna be here all day, and with you behind the wheel, we’ll never get outta here.” Lennie frowned but complied, and Doggett slid his lean frame into the driver’s seat. “I don’t know what I was thinking trying to come down here at this time of the day,” Lennie complained. He noticed Doggett’s tilt of the head and explained, “I wanted to see how the trial was going. I guess the jury’s deliberating?” “They did better than that. They came back with a verdict.” “No kidding? That’s great. Guilty?” “Damn right,” John confirmed. “You have time to go for a drink or a bite to eat?” “Sure,” Briscoe said. “The office figures I’m at the courthouse for most of the afternoon, and you’re buying, right?” Doggett gave him a sidelong frown. “Is it not enough that I’m drivin’?” With that, he took a quick glance over his right shoulder, then his left, and jerked the car into the minute opening that was getting smaller by the millisecond. A yank of the steering wheel to the right then to the left saw the Crown Vic break free of the pack and tear down the side street. Lennie’s fingers were making indentations in the dashboard. “All right, all right, I’ll pay. If we get there alive.” * As Lennie’s luck would have it, they arrived alive, though they had to walk two blocks to get to the café. “Parking in New York. Now there’s a disappearance you should be investigating, Johnny.” Doggett laughed and let the older man in ahead of him. “You know,” Briscoe began when they were seated, “I appreciate the fact that you didn’t mention the pub we saw a block back there.” Doggett was well aware of Lennie’s battle with the bottle and hadn’t even given the pub a second thought. He clasped his hand on Lennie’s shoulder. “C’mon. I know how things are. What kinda friend would I be?” Briscoe closed his eyes momentarily and nodded. “You’re a good man, Johnny.” Their coffees arrived and they placed their order. Dropping in enough sugar to supply a small country, Lennie cut a path with his spoon through the dark liquid. Doggett did his best to hide the appalled look on his face. Briscoe, oblivious, asked, “So, now that the case is over, you heading back to D.C tomorrow?” Idly twisting his own spoon back and forth between his fingers, he replied, “Nah. My plane doesn’t leave until Friday, so I’m gonna stick it out here.” “Won’t Ms. Motivation grieve over your absence?” Doggett’s mouth twisted in amusement, mirroring the expression of the man across the table. “Jesus, Lennie. Between you and McCoy… I should hire you two old ladies to be my social secretaries.” “So there’s no Ms. Motivation?” Doggett looked everywhere but at Briscoe. “Ok. There is a Ms. Motivation,” Lennie surmised. “So, what’s the problem?” His eyes memorizing the table top, he faltered, “It’s.. well, it’s complicated.” “Complicated?” Briscoe echoed. “It’s not supposed to get complicated until after you hook up.” The two men laughed and he added, “Take it from a guy who’s been married and divorced twice.” Doggett took a deep breath and tried to articulate his thoughts. “She’s.. she’s got a lot goin’ on in her own life. I don’t want to throw another curve ball at her. I’m just gonna wait until the time is right before I make any kinda move.” “You’re going to wait until the time is right?” Lennie echoed again. At Doggett’s weak nod, Briscoe gave a long pause. Doggett was wondering what was going through the old man’s head when Lennie quietly asked, “Did you know I was in the car when Claire died?” Doggett stopped twisting the spoon. “Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry.” Lennie gave a small sigh. “Yeah, me too. I was sorry for a lot of things back then.” He shifted forward in his chair. “You don’t know how many nights I laid in bed replaying that night over and over in my head. I played the ‘what if?’ game until it nearly drove me nuts.” He saw how quickly Doggett looked away, and it occurred to Lennie that Doggett had probably played this game with himself after Luke died. “Yeah, I guess you do know what I’m talking about, don’t you, Johnny? What if I hadn’t gone to that bar and had her drive me home? What if I hadn’t talked to her so damn much? What if I had talked to her more? What if we had played one more game of pool?” Doggett had no rebuttal, because he had played this game, too. What if he didn’t go to work that day? What if he had come home early? What if he hadn’t bought Luke that damn bike? The questions were never- ending, because the outcomes were limitless. But it didn’t stop him from wondering. Lennie lifted up his cup and took a mouthful of his coffee-sugar concoction. Placing the mug back down on the table, he continued, “Then one day, I saw the sunshine come up and I realized I couldn’t do this anymore. I either had to deal with it and move on, or keep going down the drain. And I didn’t like the idea of not being able to sleep ever again.” He gave a small laugh. “Listen, Johnny,” he continued. “I don’t know what the situation is with this girl back in D.C, but I know how it is with you. I know this trip to New York had just as much with you closing a chapter on your life as it was closing a case. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve dealt with it. And I suspect you’ve dealt with it better than you thought you would.” Doggett was surprised to admit this truth to himself, but Lennie was right. The return to New York, the return to his old precinct, the return to his old neighbourhood, didn’t inflict further damage upon his heart, as he had feared. In fact, it felt as if he had shed this albatross, had lifted this weight from his soul. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Briscoe said, as he saw the realization cross the face of the younger man. “So what I’m saying is this. You’ve dealt with it. Now it’s time to move on. And more importantly, no more ‘what if’ games. What if she doesn’t feel the same way about you? What if she does? What if it complicates things?” He caught Doggett’s gaze and held it. “Well, what if you never find out because you’re too busy waiting for the time to be right? What if the time passes you by while you’re trying to predict the outcome of everything? Don’t do it, Johnny. I never took you as a guy to back away from something that might be a little risky. Don’t disappoint the old guy now.” The small grin that began on Doggett’s face grew into a smile, until it rolled into a laugh. And there it was, that final obstacle overcome. He looked at Lennie and remarked in a tone of appreciation, “You’re a wise man, Lennie.” Briscoe shrugged and held up his hands as if to say ‘it was nothing.’ The food arrived and as it was placed in front of them, Doggett added, “And to show you my appreciation, I’ll even pay.” * “Agent Scully,” came the greeting on the other end of the line. Doggett had dropped Lennie off at the precinct and taken the subway back. He had walked the distance from the subway stop to the hotel in double-time and hadn’t bothered to catch his breath before calling. With a slight hitch in his voice, he asked, “Agent Scully?” He could almost see her face, a study in controlled impatience. “Yes. But I think I’ve already told you.” She paused. “Agent Doggett?” “Yeah,” he answered, finally getting his breathing under control. “Sorry. I just broke the state record for speed-walkin’.” She laughed and then, unsure of the meaning behind his statement, asked, “Is everything all right? Are you ok?” Kicking off his shoes, he fell back onto the bed. “Yeah, yeah, everythin’s fine. I’m fine. If you ignore the fact that I’m not as young as I used to be.” He was rewarded with another of her laughs. “So.. any reason for the call? How did the case go today?” “Good,” he said. “The jury took less that half an hour to find him guilty. McCoy figures 15-25 for sure; no chance of parole.” “That’s great, John. I’m glad it worked out for you.” Doggett could hear her sitting back in her chair. “And how are you? I called you last night..” “Yeah, I know. I meant to be here, but Jack called and wanted to go for a drink,” he explained. “That’s o.k,” she said, “I figured that’s what happened. So what else have you been up to?” He tucked the pillow behind his head and raked his hand through his hair. “Not much. I’ve been keepin’ a low profile. Went to my old precinct yesterday.” “Did you? And how was that?” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Great. Exactly the freakin’ same.” Scully’s laughter joined his own. “Did you get one of those hotdogs you’ve been pining for the last year and a half?” “I have not been pinin’,” he retorted. “Maybe vigorously missin’.” “Sure, whatever you say,” she said. “Anyway,” he went on, ignoring her jab, “yeah, I did get one. Two, actually. With everythin’ on ‘em.” “Good God,” Scully groaned. He patted his stomach and enthused, “They were great.” “I’m sure they were,” she said, with little conviction. Before she could go any further, he took a breath and made an admission. “I went to the old neighbourhood yesterday, too.” Her end was quiet for a moment, until she softly asked, “How are you?” Tilting his head to look out the window, he gave her question some thought before answering with a quiet conviction. “I’m good. I’m good.” A moment of silence passed between them until Scully said, “So, you ready to come home, then? The basement’s missed you, you know. And that pile on your desk hasn’t gotten any smaller since you left.” He chuckled. “Gee, what have you been doin’ since I’ve been gone? I bet I’m gonna find more pencils in the ceilin’ when I get back, aren’t I?” “Well…” He swung his feet off the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “An’ to answer your other question, I’m not quite ready to come home yet.” He debated what to say next. By nature, he was a direct, to the point man, but he thought he’d try something new; he’d try the subtle approach. “You know, I don’t have to be back at work until Monday.” “I thought your flight came back on Friday?” she asked. “It does,” he answered. “But, ah..,” he faltered, having a problem with this subtle route. “Agent Doggett?” “Remember how you said you’d come pick me up at the airport?” “Yes,” she replied. “Well, uh.. why don’t you bypass the airport completely and come to New York?” Before she could voice the protests he imagined she had, he continued, “I mean, if you come up tomorrow, we wouldn’t have to drive back until Sunday. I’d like to introduce you to some of my friends. We could take in a show. ‘Rent’, maybe.” “Really?” “Yeah.” “I don’t know, John,” she said. The silence returned. Trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice, he replied, “O.k. I understand.” “I mean, there is just no way Skinner will let me go any sooner than Friday.” She could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Really?” “Yeah.” “That.. that’s great.” He leaned back onto the bed, his gaze to the ceiling, his smile from ear to ear. “You’re awfully quiet,” she noted after several minutes of silence. Doggett covered his eyes with his forearm before groaning, “I’m tryin’ to figure out how the hell I’m gonna get tickets to ‘Rent’.” -end * L&O People Jack J. McCoy (Sam Waterston)- Late 50’s, hard-nosed Executive Assistant District Attorney of Manhattan. Basically, the big cheese, second only to his boss, Nora Lewin. Had an affair with his assistant, Claire Kincaid (yes, he DID!.. sorry, that’s been a point of debate among L&O fans for years *grin*), who was hit by a drunk driver while she was driving Lennie home after he had fallen off the wagon. Nora Lewin (Dianne Wiest)- Also late 50’s. Jack’s boss. Serena Southerlyn (Elizabeth Rohm)- Early 30’s (?) She’s been Jack’s assistant for two years. Very much a mentor/pupil relationship. Lennie Briscoe (Jerry Orbach)- Early 60’s. Has been a cop (and on the show) forever. Divorced twice. Recovering alcoholic. Was having a drink with Jack the night Claire drove Lennie home. (She didn’t return Jack’s call to come pick HIM up, so he left before she showed up. She ended up driving Lennie home, and was killed.) Ed Green (Jesse L. Martin)- Early 30’s. African-American. Lennie’s third partner in 7 years. Easy going guy. Lt. Anita Van Buren (S.Epatha Merkerson)- Early 40’s (?) African- American. Boss of Lennie and Ed. Married with two kids.