Work Text:
A Bitter Disappointment
by Python
Jack McCoy sat forward on the couch. His whole body was tense. He flexed his hands into fists, relaxed them, and tightened them again.
Lennie Briscoe stood behind the couch, watching the last Chicago Cub batter fly out. The National League Championship Series was over and the Cubs had gone down to bitter defeat just as he had teasingly predicted. The Florida Marlins rejoiced on the field at Wrigley Field.
Jack stared at the TV in shock. He was convinced that this year was going to be different. His team had been up three games to one. They only needed to win one more to advance to the World Series but had dropped three straight.
Lennie came around to sit next to Jack. "Sorry, Jack," he said with heartfelt sympathy. He'd seen Jack so happy when the Cubs made it into the playoffs and beat the Atlanta Braves in the first round. He figured that the Cubs would make it to the World Series and be beaten by his Yankees.
Jack shook his head. "I really thought they'd make it this year."
"With their pitching, they'll be back."
Jack growled. "Damn it! It's not fair."
Lennie rubbed Jack's back. What could he say? The Marlins had just played a better game. That wouldn't be something that his lover wanted to hear. He could understand Jack's point of view. It had to be tough rooting for a team that hadn't made it to the World Series since 1945 and hadn't won the fall classic since 1908.
Jack sat back and stared at the ceiling. Another baseball season ending in bitter disappointment. "How could they blow the series being up three games to one?"
"Florida got some lucky breaks, that's all."
Jack waved at the TV. "I mean, I give the Marlins credit for being a great team, but we were supposed to win." He looked back at the screen to see the owner of the Marlins receiving the National League Championship trophy. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off with a scowl.
Lennie tried to think of something to say to make Jack feel better, but he knew that Jack wasn't in the frame of mind to be comforted. He simply sat with Jack, rubbing Jack's back and watching Jack glare at the dark TV.
The phone on the stand next to Jack's side of the couch rang. He reached over and picked it up. "Hello," he said with thinly veiled hostility. He listened for a moment to discover that it was his brother. "Tim."
Lennie listened to Jack talking to Tim. Tim was loud enough that he could hear everything that was said. Tim basically called to complain about the Cubs loss to a fellow sufferer.
"I know that they should have won it, Tim," Jack almost yelled in exasperation. "But don't you guys get drunk and do something to that poor guy who caught the baseball before Alou in last night's game."
Lennie sighed. In the previous game, a fan had caught a foul ball that Cubs outfielder, Moises Alou, had a good chance to catch. After that play, the game unraveled on the Cubs and the Marlins scored eight runs in that one inning. That Marlins victory forced the Game Seven that the Cubs had just lost.
"Come on, Tim. We all know that everyone who goes to a baseball game wants to catch a baseball. The guy simply didn't see Alou," Jack stated. "I'm sure he feels bad enough about it already...I know that doesn't really help much."
Lennie wasn't really in the mood to hear Jack and Tim go back and forth about the game. He stood up with a soft grunt and then leaned down to kiss Jack's forehead. "I'm going to bed," he whispered.
Jack covered the mouthpiece on the receiver. "Okay. I'll be there in a little while."
Lennie chuckled. When he and Tim got into sports discussions, they usually lasted a while. "Whatever you say, Jack. Good night." Before he had taken two steps, Jack was back on the phone. He looked over his shoulder once, laughed quietly, and disappeared into the bedroom.
The End