Work Text:
Present Tension
By Perpetual Motion
"Did no one ever tell you the story of Icarus?"
Mike gives Jack a dirty look, sips his scotch, and leans into the table just a little bit more. "Shut up," he says, voice down low and angry.
Jack ignores him. "I appreciate the zeal you bring to the office, but there's zeal and there's stupidity."
"I'd like it noted that I stopped myself."
"While standing in the courtroom after filing a motion."
That stings, and Mike throws back the rest of his scotch, slamming the glass on the table because it feels good. "But I stopped." Mike meets Jack's eyes, watches the way Jack squints at him and considers telling him he needs glasses. "Name aside, I like to think I'm distinct from the other Mike."
"Oh, for the…" Jack trails off, anger in the way he settles his mouth. "You are aware that the only person at this table who thinks you need to live down to Mike Logan is you, right?"
Mike doesn't know what to say to that. He's never known what to say to that. He's never felt inadequate in a relationship, but he's heard stories of Mike Logan, and they make him itch. It's always stories about how the man toed the line and worked by the frayed ends of his temper, and there are days that Mike can't help but see some really stunning resemblances. And none of the stories ever come from Jack, who's told him about everyone except Mike Logan.
"You're being an idiot," Jack says, not unkindly.
"Yeah," Mike says and stands up. "I think I'll go be an idiot at home." He walks out, the door of the restaurant shutting with a small whoosh of air when Mike really wants it to slam.
The next morning when he pulls himself into the office after a shitty night's sleep, Connie's waiting at his desk. "You look like hell."
"Morning to you, too." Mike tucks his briefcase under his desk and leafs through his messages. "Any word from Ticker's counsel?"
"Not yet."
Mike looks up and raises his eyebrows. "What?"
Connie walks to the door and latches it firmly. "Did you and Jack fight?"
Mike's eyebrows go a bit higher. "Excuse me?"
Connie rolls her eyes and rests a hip on Mike's desk. "You look like hell. He looks like hell. It's not hard to put together."
"That wasn't where my question was headed." Mike puts down his messages and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I was going to ask where you got this idea of-"
"Oh, please, Mike." Connie's smirk doesn't do anything to calm Mike's slamming heart. "Jack told me weeks ago." Her eyes go wide at what Mike imagines is his suddenly blanching face. "Oh, god, he didn't tell you."
"If you'll excuse me," Mike says instead of answering. He storms down the hall to Jack's office and stops short at the desk in the outer office where Jack's assistant watches everyone like a hawk. "I need to see him," he says without looking at her.
"Of course, Mr. Cutter. He said he was expecting you this morning."
Mike spares her a glance to see if she's pulling his leg. She looks up at him, all professionalism and politeness. He pushes into Jack's office and makes sure the door clicks shut behind him. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"There you are," Jack says pleasantly, like he really has been expecting Mike to storm in. "I want to introduce you to someone."
Mike suddenly realizes that there's a man tucked into the far corner of Jack's couch. He's tall, in a police detective suit, striped tie, and scuffed shoes. There are lines around his eyes that make him look a bit mean, but the smile he gives to Mike is pleasant enough, if a bit stiff.
"Mike Logan."
"For the record," Jack says before Mike Cutter can say a word, "he and I had a meeting this morning anyway."
"So you decided to turn it into a meet and greet." Mike practically spits the words. He gives Logan a curt nod. "I'm the Mike who hasn't punched a politician."
There's a short, terse pause, and then Logan grins and laughs a little. "You should try it sometime. Staten Island's pretty nice."
"I'll pass." Mike looks at Jack, who is standing near his desk, arms crossed and eyes a bit squinty. "And Connie?"
Jack shrugs in an elegant roll of his shoulders. "I worked with Connie before you did. She's aware of my tastes."
"Men named Mike with temperamental personalities and wax on their wings?"
"I'll agree to the first," Logan interrupts. "But I think I'll exit before anyone explains the second. Jack," he turns to Jack with his hand out, "good to see you again."
"You too." Jack shakes his hand.
Mike waits for Logan to leave before he says anything else. "You insult me, tell Connie about us, and set me up to storm in here and look like a jackass." Mike watches Jack pinch the bridge of his nose, and he suddenly doesn't have it in him to be mad anymore. "Fuck, you're bad at relationships."
Jack smirks. "Makes two of us."
"Yeah." Mike breathes out hard and leans against Jack's door. "That was cheap."
"But effective."
"I suppose." Mike smiles a little as Jack comes closer. "And this leaves us where?"
"Let me take you to dinner tonight." Jack stops just shy of Mike's personal space, and Mike watches the way he smoothes his tie. It's almost respectable, he thinks, as long as no one can read what they're thinking. Mike's pretty sure it's not work acceptable.
"You'll tell me about Mike Logan?"
"Yes."
Mike considers it and gives Jack a nod. "Okay."
"Okay."
There's a pause where Mike watches the effort Jack takes in not fidgeting. Jack puts his hands in his pockets and gives Mike a smile, and Mike gives in and steps up so that he and Jack are pressed together from chest to hipbone. It's a risk, but Mike figures it's worth it, given what they're trying to do here. "Swing by late. I've got a plea bargain meeting at six."
"I'll make a note."
"Good." Mike presses against Jack for another few seconds, and then pulls himself away. "I'll see you for dinner."
"Maybe before," Jack says with a grin that lets Mike know he'll have a visit to his office before the day's out.
"Okay." Mike turns on his heel and leaves, giving a nod to Jack's assistant, and heading back to his office at a fast enough clip that no one bothers him. He gets back to his office, latches his door, and realizes Mike Logan is sitting in one of the chairs by his desk.
"Hi," Logan says with a wave that would be awkward, Mike thinks, if Logan didn't have an air of confidence that cancels out awkward.
"What can I do for you, detective?" Mike asks, because he doesn't know what else to say.
"I thought I could answer some questions." Logan stands up and leans against Mike's desk. "Jack's never been great about talking about relationships."
"…okay," Mike says, suddenly dazed. "I have to admit, this is a little awkward for me."
Logan laughs a little, and Mike can see, in the way his face changes with an honest smile and amusement, what Jack apparently found so attractive. "I can assure you, counselor, it's more than a little awkward for me."
"Yeah," Mike says as he rounds his desk and sits. "I'm sure you're really thrown for a loop."
Logan smirks and settles back into his chair. "I am, actually. I mean, I knew Jack had particular tastes, but the idea that you and I…" he lets it trail and looks around the room. "We never quite worked," he says after a few moments.
Mike considers Logan as he sits across from him. He mentally peels away the years and pictures the Mike Logan that Jack would have known, roughly twelve years younger. The picture's not much different, and Mike finds himself uncomfortable at the time Jack and Logan spent alone in Jack's office. "From what I hear, you were more than a handful."
"I had my moments," and the smirk that goes across Logan's face makes Mike see red. "But most of the time, I was over my head."
Mike leans back in his chair and laces his fingers over his stomach. "With Jack McCoy? Are you sure?"
Logan rolls his eyes. "Save the prosecutor's smugness for another day, would you?" He leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, and Mike can tell he's being sized up by someone who knows the tricks of the trade. "I don't know what he's told you-"
Mike can't help but snort. "Not nearly enough."
"But," Logan continues, as though there hasn't been an interruption, "we've been over a long time." He stares at his shoes, and Mike can't help but wonder what's going through his head. "I was never quite enough for him."
Mike manages not to do anything more than quirk and eyebrow and ask, "Oh?"
"I'm an angry guy," Logan says like it's a foregone conclusion. "When Jack and I first met, we slammed heads like a couple of bulls, and that translated into…whatever it was we had. It was great, for awhile, but then Jack figured out that I wasn't going to stop being an angry guy, and that caused some problems."
"Politician punching problems?" Mike almost winces at how snide his voice sounds, but it's already out there, and he won't back away from it.
"I take full responsibility for slugging the son of a bitch, and I hope I get the chance to meet him in a dark alley and do it again." The way Logan smiles at that isn't really a smile, more like a show of teeth. Mike's reminded sharply of an aggressive dog.
"What are you trying to tell me, detective?" Mike asks after a pause that's just a shade uncomfortable.
"Jack and I fought and bitched and battled, but we never had what I'd call a relationship. He wanted one, probably, but I was just looking for a fight. Jack thought I was just being challenging, and god knows, he loves a challenge."
Mike can't help but smile at that. "He does." Logan smiles back, and it's the attractive smile from before.
"My point, counselor, is that the reason you haven't heard much is because there's not much to tell. We fought. We fucked. We fought, and so on and so forth." Logan stands up from his chair and gives a rueful smile to Mike. "Whatever Jack can add to that, I don't know, but I figured, since I seem to be causing such a problem, you should get to hear from me."
Mike stands as well, extending his hand and shaking firmly when Logan returns the gesture. "I appreciate the candor, Detective."
"Sure," Logan says and leaves the office with a nod.
Mike falls back into his chair, suddenly drained, and looks around at nothing in particular. "…the hell?" He asks the walls before breathing in, settling himself, and facing down his paperwork.
An hour later there's a knock on his door, and Mike looks up as Jack walks into the room. "Hey."
"If you have a moment," Jack says as he latches the door, "I want to run a few things by you."
Mike waits for Jack to sit before saying, "Mike Logan was waiting for me here when I left your office." There's the barest pause through Jack's whole body, but Mike sees it. It takes him a moment to recognize what it is. "Did I just make you nervous?"
"Mike Logan makes me nervous," Jack says with a wry smile. "Not that you don't keep me on my toes, but it's fun with you."
"Not with him?"
Jack squints at Mike, and Mike can tell he's considering how to approach what he wants to ask. "What did Logan tell you?"
"Enough."
"Enough of what?"
Mike scratches his chin and watches the way Jack watches him, looking for a tell, Mike knows, so that he can use it to his advantage. "The way he tells it, there's very little to tell. He says it wasn't really a relationship."
"Interesting," Jack says in a tone that tells Mike more than if Jack had explained his side.
"What I'm wondering is why you didn't just tell me that in the first place." Mike holds back a triumphant grin at the way Jack suddenly feels the need to adjust his jacket and smooth down his tie. Mike Logan, it seems, is not the only Mike who can make Jack McCoy a nervous man.
"Logan and I were…" Jack looks contemplative as he searches for the right word. "Complicated isn't the proper term, but it's close enough. And when he got booted to Staten Island for being an idiot, we didn't give our relationship a proper send off."
"You haven't told me anything about this guy because you didn't get to kiss him as he boarded the ferry?" Mike's disbelief practically drips from his words, and he can do nothing but raise his eyebrows at the glare he gets from Jack. "Really? That's what you're sticking with?"
Jack breathes out hard in a frustrated way and shakes his head. "It was a mess, Mike. From start to finish, it was ridiculous and dramatic and stupid, but it was there, and it meant something to me, and when Logan took off, that was it. No goodbye. No final fight. No nothing. He was done with Manhattan and done with homicide work and done with me." Jack looks at Mike with such sincerity, that Mike feels pinned to his chair. "So when I tell you that you don't need to live down to Mike Logan-"
"I get it," Mike says, because making Jack say anything more seems cruel. He looks calm and composed, but Mike sees the way he's gripping the arms of the chair, and he feels like a bastard. "Thank you."
Jack snorts. "My pleasure." The sarcasm makes Mike smile a little. "And we can consider the matter closed?"
"Yes."
"Good." Jack relaxes back into the chair and folds his hands into his lap. "Update me on the Ticker case."
Mike relaxes back into his own chair and lets the conversation carry over to the professional. If his smile's a bit wider than it should be for breaking down the options on murder-two, at least there's no one in the room who'll question it.
end