Title: Freedom of Information

Author: Tobias Charity

Pairing: Jack McCoy/Michael Logan

Rating: Mmm, PG perhaps. It is slash, so watch out.

Summary: A secret is outed

Disclaimer: Ain't mine. No money made. End of story.

A/N: Unbetaed, written in all of fifteen minutes on a plot bunny high.

Freedom of Information
by Tobias Charity

He knew that she was going to corner him eventually. He was right, and at five minutes past eight exactly there was a rap on the door of his office and she stepped in, clutching a file folder to her chest.

"Jack, can I talk to you for a second?"

He ignored her, sifting through a thick stack of papers on his desk, knowing and dreading the words that would come next.

"I found this thing in your file..."

Ah yes, his file. She had done her homework, hadn't she? Always a plus to having new assistants: they didn't know your past. Other than the obvious lewd office gossip, of course, but he had dealt with that most of his life. It was the other, slightly more painful and much more damaging side of his past that worried him, kept him up nights wondering where he had gone wrong.

But no, this new one had sat down, paid a company to dig up dirt on him, and then scared him stiff when she began reading it aloud to Nora. Thankfully, she stopped after mentioning the Clash (they *were* a good band, and KaZaA had been useful in finding their music...but that was beside the point) and not gone on. Of course, she had started it as research into a case, that Internet one, and then it had evolved into something much more.

"Something about this guy you shared an apartment with for a year..."

This guy? So flippant a term for such a man. She could afford to be flippant; she had not loved that unpredictable temper, that cocky, self- assured manner, those astonishingly beautiful hazel-amber eyes.

"He was an NYPD detective...worked with Lennie for a while..."

And then the councilman, the hearing, the transfer...

"And didn't he find out that another detective was taking bribes? They could've been wrong..."

That was the final straw in their relationship. Jack had come close to accusing him of something very near jealousy, of trying to get in good with the higher-ups just so he could have the prestige back of being in Manhattan homicide. Jack had been his bastard self and driven him away for the second time in as many years, and hadn't heard from him since.

"But you lived with him...I guess I can only assume that..."

They were lovers, yes. Lovers, haters, screamers, criers, falling into each other's arms at the end of a terrible day, talking all the time but only listening half, loving the sex more than the conversation before and after, loving the man but not the problems that came along with him, willing to listen only when they knew the favor would be returned...So many secrets for just two men.

"I won't mention this again, Jack. Just wanted to let you know...Your secret is safe with me."

More secrets, more of one talking and the other not listening. He nodded and she left, leaving the file behind, open to the residence page.

"Jack McCoy: Resident at 130 West 57th Street, apartment 4C. Shared with: Michael Logan, NYPD detective. See: Relationships."

/fin/