Disclaimer: Ahahaha! No.
The great thing about words is that they can be interpreted in so many different ways. "I didn't do it" can mean anything from "I didn't do it" to "I didn't do it quite how you described I did it." Body language goes a long way towards how those words are interpreted, as well; the easy half smile a detective exhibits when he suggests looking further into a guilty suspect's actions on any given night may provide an awful lot of fodder for one's imagination.
My imagination doesn't seem to need much more fodder at this moment. Every look, every sideways tilt of the head, every brush of his hand against mine has an ulterior motive to me. It's ridiculous, of course, to think that he could possibly have any ideas regarding me, but still I entertain myself every night thinking of that possibility. I tell myself that when he comes by to work on testimony, it's only to work on testimony. I tell myself that when I drop by the precinct to check on open cases, it's only to check on open cases. Not to get an eyeful of him in those suits that hang so well on his tall frame, and maybe wonder what he'd look like out of those suits.
If he were a woman, either I wouldn't be having this problem or I'd already have approached him. The fact that we work together fairly often wouldn't have stopped me; it never has in the past. The fact that he's at least a quarter-century younger wouldn't have made a difference; again, that's never stopped me before. Even with his career as a cop, I could've made adaptations; I'm used to slinking around and not being exactly forthcoming as to what my current romantic interests are. The boys in blue aren't well known for welcoming their alternative-minded brethren with open arms; in fact, most are positively hostile regarding gays in their midst. But then again, the prosecutor's office isn't exactly draped in rainbow flags, and my wild oats have never grown to bear any fruits of gossip in those particular hallways. No one's that careful, though--a slip of the tongue and all of a sudden you're "Jack McCoy, the Gay DA," a label I was not eager to bear.
The thing which has stopped me so far from making any propositions is the fact that I'm not quite certain what I want from him. As of late, I've had very few one-night stands, even regarding men. I'm too...dignified (we will not say old) to go bed hopping anymore. I'm strongly attracted to him physically; there's no doubt of that. His wit and his humor, as well as his obvious intelligence, make him even more attractive. However, I'm not sure if a serious relationship is a better idea than a one-night stand.
The thing is, I'm defeating myself before I even get started. One night stand, relationship--I don't even know if he's interested and already I'm planning how to end our nonexistent...thing. One day at a time, etcetera.
The thing to do was to provoke a reaction. Any reaction. Dropping hints wasn't working; despite his detective status, he apparently wasn't that good at picking up subtleties. I'd have to be a little more overt.
Carpe diem. Seize the day; each one's getting closer to your last.
I picked up the phone and dialed the precinct and his extension, and involuntarily sucked in a breath when he answered.
"Green."
"Detective, it's McCoy. Would you mind coming down to my office after you get off work today?"
/fin/
On to Part Four, Lennie's POV, by Cirocco
Rating: PG. No, really.
Summary: Jack contemplates a certain detective. (Yeah, yeah.)
Author's Notes: Ahem. Here we go: This is a companion piece to Cassatt's 500-word L&O fic, which was a companion piece to Cirocco's 500-word L&O fic. My kind-of sequel is a) 104 words longer than it should've been, and b) not a response to the original challenge. Quickie!Beta by L and her fish.
Copyright May, 2003, Tobias Charity