Protocol
Tracey knew it was wrong to slide her muscled calf up the length of her assistant’s leg in departmental meetings, Branch talking to her all the while as Jack McCoy looked on with poorly hidden lust for a woman he knew he could not have, but she didn’t care, and she never had. Rules were meant to be broken, both in, but especially out of the courtroom, and Tracey Kibre had never been one to back away from a challenge. Kelly Gaffney was the best challenge she had been presented with in years, and the rules surrounding her were far too irresistible not to break.
And yes, Tracey knew that as her hand grazed the small of Kelly’s back, fingernails gently skimming the inch of exposed skin between Kelly’s blazer and her skirt, she crossed a line she could not return from… But Tracey Kibre did not want to return, she wanted to drown in the ocean of Kelly’s eyes, far beyond the line she hurtled past with abandon. Lines were drawn to be erased, Tracey mused, and the line separating her from Kelly Gaffney was one in definite need of erasure.
Of course, Tracey knew it went against protocol to lightly brush her lips against Kelly’s ear as she whispered of tactics and strategy in the courtroom… But protocol was simply a guide, after all, and Tracey like to create her own guides in life, follow her own code of behavior. As Kelly’s eyes fluttered shut at the brief contact of skin, something no one save them would ever realize happened, Tracey knew it had been worth it, knew her own protocol was the one to follow.
And when they reached the office after a long day at trial, hours spent arguing and baiting witnesses, Tracey knew she shouldn’t lock the door and draw the blinds, but she did it anyway, and she had no regrets.