This is the companion piece to the popular Dreams: Shades of Plaid that appeared in the last issue of apocrypha. Jack and Claire aficionados, this time it's your turn to crank up those fans!

Dreams: Precedents
By Lin Courtright

District Attorney's Office
Conference Room 1018
One Hogan Place

ADA Claire Kincaid sat in the library, trying to find any precedents relating to the case that was being tried. She had been at it the biggest part of the morning and was going nowhere with it. She laid her ink pen down, leaning back in her chair. She let out a soft moan as she rubbed her eyes with her fingers.
"Having any luck?"
She turned to her left to see EADA Jack McCoy standing in the doorway, with his hands pushed deep in his pockets. She was so lost in her work that she never heard the door open.
She shook her head. "Not yet. How long have you been standing there?"
He shut the door with his foot as he walked into the room. He stepped over to a chair besides hers, pulling it out. She watched as he seemed to mold himself into the seat the same way he fit whatever contour he was in.
"Couple minutes," he said, not making eye contact.
"Got any suggestions?"
"Yeah...take a break, eat some food, then jump on it again."
Claire smiled, leaning slightly forward. "I see now why you're the EADA and I'm just the ADA."
Jack looked up at her, his dark eyes meeting her brown eyes. "Oh, I have the utmost faith in you, Claire. If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked for you to be my assistant."
One side of her mouth curled upwards. "It's so nice to be wanted."
"You're wanted more than you'll ever know."
Claire leaned back in her chair. C'mon, Claire. You're not wanting to be number four in the series.
Jack leaned back. "Need some help?"
She nodded. "Please."
He stood up, removing his hands from his pockets. He walked around, stopping behind her.
Claire began to feel a knot form in her stomach, as he put his hands on the back of his chair, leaning forward. His head was right beside hers, feeling his breath gently fall on her bare neck.
"Can I ask you a question?" he asked with a lowered voice.
She nodded, trying to keep her eyes focused on the book in front of her. "Sure."
She felt his hand on the nape of her neck. "Why the hell do you wear this thing?"
Her eyes narrowed. "What thing?"
He loosened her short ponytail then brought his hand around to the other side, holding the cloth-covered elastic that had held her hair up. She looked at it for a moment, then turned to face him.
"This thing."
"It's called a Scrunchie?" she asked, giving him a weak smile.
"Scrunchie?" he said, throwing it onto the table. "That is a complete absurd name."
She nodded, having to agree with him. Claire felt him run his fingers through her loose hair, letting it fall down around her. Impulsively, she closed her eyes, relaxed and stirred at the same time by the feel of his fingers running through her hair.
"Much better."
"Than what?"
"You just look too serious with that thing in there. I like you better without it."
She turned to look at him with a grin on her face. "You're critiquing my hairstyles now? What next, my clothes?"
He smiled that same smile that he had when he was in front of a defendant. That smile that read 'I got you now'. Normally, when she saw that smile, someone was about to make a plea bargain or he was about to win a case, but this time it was different. This time, the smile had a completely different meaning, and it excited Claire much more than she wanted it to.
"Oh, no, Claire. I like your clothes...well, usually."
He leaned forward slightly more. "I have to admit, I like when you wear tight jeans, the blouse unbuttoned down just enough to tease a man with the cleavage, and that leather jacket."
She flushed as warmth overwhelmed her. "Well, I can't wear that during work hours, you know."
"Oh, yeah, I know. But, it doesn't mean that I don't anticipate when the time comes when I do see you dressed like that."
"And you don't like my work clothes?" she said, with a mock-disappointed voice.
Wanting to pull back, she found herself trapped in his stunning dark eyes. I should tell him to leave, right now, she thought, catching her breath. She traced the line of his full mouth with her eyes, too close to pull away now. Suddenly, she realized he'd been saying something.
"What?" Her voice sounded strangely hoarse, and she shivered, felling his breath dance across her mouth.
"I said, you -- in that mini-skirt, and that tight, so-professional jacket. That's what I've been thinking about for sometime now, non stop."
He was close enough that she could slip forward just a little, and taste that mouth if she wanted to -- if she dared. His cologne was light, just sweet enough to tease her senses. He felt so warm against her, his hand on her chin burning a path straight to places better left unnamed. Her embarrassment faded into a quiet desire. Moving a little closer, he half-closed his eyes, a glimmer of a smile on his lips. "Really."
She started to say something, but he took advantage of her parted lips. Kissing her softly at first, he reveling in her shocked gasp. She folded into him, wrapping her arms around his narrow waist as his hands played through her hair. Her mind careened through a thousand thoughts, most of them prurient, and she brushed aside the hazy doubt that letting this man do this might be a bad idea. Their tongues met, tentative, then braver as they crushed into each other. Feeling the toned hardness of his chest and legs against her, she longed to touch more than his shirt with her bare hands.
Somehow, they fell down to the floor with an 'oomph'. He apologized with burning kisses when he pushed her down a little too hard, and she accepted by unweaving the knot of his tie as she pulled his mouth hard against her own. He tasted rich on her tongue, tasting the scotch that he had been sipping through the day.
His soft hands slid into her jacket, opening the buttons quickly. She felt his hand move down from her jacket after it was completely opened to her skirt, unzipping the side, tugging it down.
He looked down at her, looking pleasantly surprised at what he saw. She laid there on the floor, now wearing only her underwear. She moaned softly when he drew a finger from just above the elastic of her satin panties, across her abdomen and chest, to her softly eager mouth. She pulled the digit into her mouth, suckling it gently, savoring the salty sweetness of his skin.
Heart skipping, she started into his dark, dark eyes, reeling from this sudden, erotic intrusion in her life. All the while, she scrabbled to divest him of his shirt. He reclaimed his finger, as his free hand released the front clasp of her bra. He used his finger's moist tip to outline her nipple, watching her face dance through a medley of arousal. Delicacy was thrown by the wayside as she struggle with his buttons, wanting desperately to feel him naked against her. Taking advantage of her distraction, he dipped his head catching a dusky nipple between his teeth, washing his tongue over it with intense concentration. Momentarily, she forgot her task of removing his shirt, arching her back as an encouragement to continue. With his free hand, he slid his palm down her belly, carefully guiding his fingers across the elastic of her panties, pulling them down around her legs as far as he could. Shortly after, he guided his fingers across her pubic hair and into the hooded fold below. She shuddered with his attention to detail as he traced every inch of her nipple with his tongue, repeating the same intricate motions on her sensitive nub. Pressing her face into his shoulder, she breathed in his heady scent, leading his hand across her, then sliding his middle finger into her.
Fingering her slowly, he swirled his tongue over her nipple, each lap matching each stroke. He was teetering on the edge, but enjoying her reaction far too much to stop. Her toes curled against his leg, her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she murmured husky commands as she raised her hips to feel the length of his fingers delving into her. She crooned and mumbled against his neck, bucking against him as her body shook in tormented pleasure.
She muffled herself from screaming aloud as he pulled away. She watched him unbutton his shirt slowly, then removed his pants. She ached with need as he slid out of his boxers. He glanced down at her, smiling seductively. Carefully, he pulled her hand away that was covering her mouth, as he lowered himself back down.
Catching her in a bruising kiss, he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her up to more evenly match their bodies. Trying to sit upright gracefully, she cupped his face in her hands, probing delicious depths of his mouth. He responded eagerly, nipping at her lower lip. She could feel him straining underneath her, and she fell forward carefully, positioning herself over him.
Wrapping an arm tightly around her waist, he rolled over, lowering her to the floor. Propped above her, he paused long enough to flash her his 'patented McCoy smile', before burying himself in her. Her body shuddering underneath his, her fingers digging into skin. Pressing his cheek against hers, he moved faster, more forcefully, moaning and sighing into her ear, whispering her name as she bucked against him.
Teetering on the edge, they moved closer and closer to orgasm until finally the shudder of climax made them jerk with shared reactions.
He slid down onto his elbows, gasping for breath as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. She slid her hands up his back, ruffling the soft hair at the nape of his neck, luxuriating in the sensation of their exhausted bodies falling into a lazy embrace.
Rolling onto his side, he pulled her close to him, kissing her brow and running his fingers softly along her sweat-slick skin. She leaned up to taste his mouth, still shuddering from time to time with after effects. He smiled at her, then closed his eyes, leaning his head back to rest for a moment.
"So much for precedents."
She smiled as she dropped her head to his chest, sighing heavily.
"Claire...Claire...are you all right?"
She lifted her head, opening her eyes slowly. She felt warmth on her face as it reddened. She saw Jack standing in the doorway, looking at her puzzled.
"Are you all right?"
", I'm not."
"Why don't you take a break. That could wait until Monday."
Claire quickly jumped up out of her chair, almost running for the door. She stopped briefly in the doorway, afraid to meet his gaze.
"I'm taking the rest of the day off. I'll see you Monday."
Jack watched her quickly walk down the hallway, heading for her cubicle. His eyes widened as he turned back, looking at the law books that were scattered across the table.
He smiled, staring down a now empty hallway. "I never knew research could do that to a person. Maybe I'm missing something."


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