let's take a chance (take it while we can)

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note: this fic is mostly canon-compliant, but a better description would probably be "canon nudged to the left" because i stretched the main timeline to be longer (i.e. the claire/jack era of l&o spanning almost three years instead of two, two and a half; so think early 1994 to late 1996 rather than early/mid-1994 to mid/late-1996). this change doesn't affect the plot of the fic, per se, but in case anybody is eagle-eyed with timelines, just know it was intentional!

my kincoy magnum opus... this story has been such a rollercoaster for me to work on, i really hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! i know claire/jack isn't as popular in 2022 as it was in the 90s and early 2000s, but what's a party without at least one late arrival ;) thank you for giving this story a shot <3

~*~

1. Adam Schiff: We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

"How much longer are you two staying here tonight?" Adam asked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets, and Jack shrugged, tiredly rubbing beneath his left eye.

"Hopefully not more than another hour."

Claire covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. "I've got just a couple more depositions to review. If you want, I could probably draft—"

"You'll do no such drafting, Ms. Kincaid," Adam said with his usual firm but caring assertiveness. "You both need to get some rest before tomorrow. Finish those depositions and go home, that's an order." A smile twitched on his lips as he spoke, and he could see tired grins pulling at Jack and Claire's expressions, too.

"Thanks, Adam." Jack offered him a goodbye wave. "We'll see you tomorrow morning."

Adam nodded, and with a final glance at his two best attorneys sitting a mere foot and a half apart on the cushiony old couch in Jack's office, he took his leave. At 12 minutes to 10 PM, this was considerably later than Adam ever liked to depart from work, and he knew Ruth was mourning his absence at home. He'd have to make it up to his wife this weekend—maybe take her out to a nice dinner.

Adam stepped into the elevator and watched the metal doors slowly close before him, cutting off his sight of Jack and Claire, who were still flipping through files on Jack's couch. They were brilliant prosecutors, the both of them.

Both were as discreet as they were brilliant, too.

The fact of the matter was that their closeness could be innocently explained, and Adam was in no hurry to find any illicit goings-on between them. He pressed the elevator button to take him down to the first floor, though his thoughts remained on his assistant DAs.

They worked well together, it was undeniable. Jack's zealousness was tempered by Claire's reason and Claire's passion was brought to the forefront under Jack's intensity, however contrary his intensity could be. Even if there was hanky panky going on behind closed doors, it wasn't interfering with their work, which was Adam's priority. And their work...

Their work was damn good.

Claire had really come into her own as Jack's assistant. Ben Stone had been more of her mentor, in Adam's observation, while Jack—so long as his ego was checked—wasn't afraid to treat Claire as a less experienced equal, for better or for worse. Mostly better, Adam liked to think.

Of course, Jack had more or less treated all of his previous assistants as equals. It was both his respect for their abilities and his own prosecutorial talent that attracted Jack's coworkers to him, Adam suspected, and he had to wonder if Claire was any different.

Adam shook his head, silently reprimanding himself for even entertaining the notion that more responsibility should be shouldered onto Jack's partners than onto Jack. Who was he to blame a young woman for finding an intelligent man who appreciated her work attractive? When all was said and done, Adam ought to recognize that it was Jack who should know better, especially after striking out three times before.

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