Disclaimer:- I don't own 'Without A Trace' or any of the characters.
Spoilers:- Seasons 2 and 3
Pairings:- Martin/Samantha
This is set after 'Manhunt'. A little M/S angst and romance!
She had watched him from her desk. He didn't know she had seen him standing there, just staring silently at her, but she had.
She had watched the quiet resolve and grim determination on his face as he had walked away from her.
She had watched him leave her…
She had ducked her head down, pretending to be engrossed in her paperwork, because whatever this feeling was that had suddenly appeared in the pit of her stomach, it wouldn't let her catch his gaze. Was it fear? Confusion?
No, Samantha was pretty sure it was guilt and 'regret' was rapidly following in it's wake as she sat there in the darkened office staring absently at the now empty doorway.
The last few months with Martin had been the happiest of her life and in typical Samantha fashion, she had hit self-destruct, letting him slip through her fingers and now he had left her. Well, that wasn't entirely true, she had done more than her share of pushing him away, he hadn't deserved that and she knew it. But Martin deserved so much more than she could offer. He deserved warmth and kindness, someone who would love him for the amazing man he was, someone who shared his dreams of the house with the white picket fence filled with that big noisy family he craved. No, Martin deserved far better than her.
Her own heart would heal in time, she would go about her daily life and gradually she would forget that she had loved him. He would move on, find the woman who could make him happy, it was really for his own good.
Samantha sighed heavily, resting her head in her palms as she tried to tell herself that letting him go was for the best; that she was really saving him.
Trouble was, she knew she could never forget about him, could never not remember the way he kissed her so tenderly, the way he held her comfortingly to his body until she fell asleep, no, there would be no forgetting Martin. She might physically let him go, but he would always remain in her heart.
The only light now came from her desk lamp and the fluorescent glow from Jack's office that signaled he too was working late, perhaps also avoiding going home to an empty apartment.
She cast a gaze slowly over her coworker's desks; skimming her eyes across Danny's collection of badges her eyes came to rest on a photograph of his family.
She pulled her hair loose and glanced over at Vivian's desk, a large photograph of Viv, Marcus and Reggie caught her eye, along with a smaller picture of an infant Reggie, his big brown eyes creased as he smiled widely for the camera.
Her own desk was sparse and neat, nothing particularly sentimental graced its' surface, there were no photographs, no memories, nothing to indicate that she loved or was loved.
But she didn't want that, right?! She'd said it many times, the husband, the kids…it wasn't for her. And if she told people that often enough, she might even start to believe it herself.
Worse still, she had even started to picture her own family lately. She and Martin had been invited to dinner at the Tolands one weekend and Ava had refused to let Martin out of her sight all evening. He had read her stories, played with her in the pool whilst she shrieked with laughter and as Sam had watched them she allowed herself to wonder if he would be like that with 'their' daughter.
Images of a blonde haired blue eyed little girl had invaded her mind and she had found herself smiling at the idea…even hoping.
Samantha inhaled deeply, closing the file before her and standing hurriedly, Jack was about to leave and the last thing she wanted was to have to speak to him. He would make some remark, ask if she was ok and she would invariably end up crying like an idiot. She would have to confess that yet again Samantha Spade had failed at something and Jack would probably even be happy about her and Martin ending.
She quickly threw her coat on, leaving it unbuttoned and grabbed her purse as she walked briskly to the elevators, glad that the doors opened instantly as she hit the 'call' button.
Sam leant back against the wall of the elevator, it felt safer in there somehow and slowly but surely as the elevator descended, she found a stream of tears flooding down her cheeks.
Hopefully the lobby would be empty and nobody would have to see her in her present state, it was late at night and most of the other agents and staff members would have left by now.
As the elevator doors opened she swiped haphazardly at her cheeks, stopping dead in her tracks as a pair of familiar eyes met hers.
"I thought you'd left?" she sniffed, trying to blink back further tears.
Martin sat on one of the dark wooden benches in the lobby, his head leant back wearily against the wall. He looked tired and sad and so utterly defeated.
He lowered his eyes to the ground, finally finding the strength to lift his exhausted gaze back to her face.
"I did," he nodded.
"You left without saying goodbye," she stated rather than asked.
A heavy sigh emanated from his chest, "I just couldn't be around you tonight Sam."
"Right," she nodded, his words stabbing a hole into her heart.
Martin laughed softly both amused and irritated by his own ridiculousness, "Only got as far as this bench. I couldn't do it Sam… I couldn't leave you."
He ran his hands threw his hair and laughed softly at his apparent stupidity.
"But you're going to," fresh tears began to descend from her brown eyes, "you're going to leave me."
A flash of anger was clearly evident on his face as he answered, "You've made it more than clear that you don't want me around Sam. You push me away every chance you get. I'm tired of trying. I can't play your games anymore, I just can't. I don't have the strength left to do it, no matter how much I want to."
She nodded silently, sitting down gingerly beside him, her legs would no longer hold her upright.
Martin shook his head ruefully as he spoke, holding her in an intense gaze, "Do you know what it's like Sam to love someone…to want them so badly and know that they'll never feel the same way about you?"
Samantha stared at his face intently; she looked at him as if she where awaking from a cloudy dream, remembering something she had tried to push from her mind, from her heart. She felt his kisses on her lips, his hands burning slow trails over her skin, his arms encircling her body, saw his smile, the one she knew he reserved only for her. She remembered all this… she remembered him.
"Is that what you think Martin?" her voice was quiet and childlike.
"That's all this isn't it Sam? An office fling…someone to take home when you needed a warm body beside you.
How could he ever think that? Didn't he know how much she loved him?! Of course he didn't, he couldn't, she had never done or said a thing to prove it to him. Instead she had pushed him away, kept her feelings hidden from him, she'd refused to tell anyone they where dating when any other woman would have been happily shouting it from the rooftops.
No, all in all, Samantha had never done anything that might make him think he meant anything to her at all.
"Know what?" Martin asked wearily.
"How I…how I feel about you…"
"How could I when you won't talk to me, when you act ashamed of being with me, scared that someone's going to find out we were dating," he stopped abruptly, "sorry… 'sleeping together' ".
"That's not true Martin and you know it," she glanced around them, noting the security guards at their station watching them curiously, "maybe now isn't the time and the place for this."
Martin glared at her venomously, "No, it never is Sam, that's the problem," he ran his hands over his face and sighed, "we either talk this out now Sam or I'm gone. Your decision…"
God he hoped she'd stay and talk to him, there was nothing he wouldn't help her get through. He just needed to know she wanted him, that he at least meant something to her. He loved this woman more than life and leaving her would break him, but it wasn't his choice to make anymore, he needed her to let go.
"Martin, I…" she stared at him aghast, her mouth open about to speak when he interrupted her.
"What is it? What is it you're so damn scared of Sam?" he demanded, tears pricking at his eyes as he looked at her in desperation.
Samantha stared into his brilliant blue eyes, watching as he blinked and a tear descended his cheek.
"Samantha…" his tone was tired and deflated as if he already anticipated defeat.
Sam closed her eyes as she felt something break inside of her. All the fear, all the secrets, all her guilt and pain was suddenly released in a cascade of tears, her body racked with sobs as her heart released itself from the constraints of her past.
Martin sighed wretchedly, he hated seeing her cry, he hated even more so that he was the reason. He eyed the security guard irritably as the short red haired man looked closely at Samantha. If he came over and interrupted them now Martin would have to take his gun out and shoot him.
He gently placed his hand on her thigh, narrowing his eyes in surprise when she gripped his hand tightly in her own.
"I'm afraid…" she trembled, "I'm afraid one day you'll realize I'm not good enough for you," she sobbed, slumping forward, grasping his hand so tightly in her own that her knuckles whitened.
"Sam…" Martin shook his head in despair, how could she not know how completely amazing and beautiful he thought she was.
"I'm afraid that you'll see me for who I really am, that you'll get to know the real me and not want me anymore. I have all this…" she stared angrily at the ground, "all this baggage, all these issues. I'm cold and… and distant and you don't deserve someone like that Martin," she lifted her head to meet his eyes, "you could have any girl you wanted, why would you ever want someone like me. I'm damaged Martin, my past is…"
"The past," he said firmly, his expression softening as he looked at her.
Tendrils of hair where stuck to the sides of her dampened cheeks and long streams of mascara ran down her face. She looked tired and vulnerable, but most of all she looked 'real', as if he could finally reach out and touch her.
For the first time she was letting him see all those little flaws, all those fears that made this wonderful woman so distrustful and sad.
"Sam.. I want you, all of you…the good and the bad. There's nothing that would ever change how I feel about you. There is nobody else for me. Why would I ever leave you?" he looked at her imploringly, placing his palm to her face and brushing his thumb over her tear stained face, willing her to hear the truth in his words.
Sam closed her eyes and sighed, "Because everyone I love leaves me…"
His breath caught in his chest at her admission.
"You love me?"
Samantha avoided his gaze, merely grasping his hand tighter and nodding her head as she tried to prevent a further onslaught of tears.
"I thought if I pushed you away, it would hurt less than if you left me."
Martin tenderly turned her cheek back to face him, "Btu what if I want to stay? Shouldn't I get to make that decision Sam?"
She looked at him intently, licking her lips nervously before she asked uncertainly, "What…what is your decision?"
Martin stroked her hair from her face and smiled tentatively, "I'm still here."
There was suddenly a small glimmer of hope in her eyes, "For how long?" her voice was small and fearful.
"That depends on you Sam."
"I want to make you happy Martin, what if I can't, what if I can't give you the things you want?"
"You're all I want," he squeezed her hand to get her full attention, "but what is it you want Sam?"
Samantha rolled her eyes, about to make a typically cynical response when he interrupted.
"No Sam, no smartass answers this time. What is it you want? Forget how you think the world works," he locked her in an unnervingly intense gaze, "in a world where there's hope and possibilities, what is it you want?"
Samantha knew this was the make or break moment, all she had to do was tell the truth.
"I…" she stumbled, trying to find the words, "I want…I want to stop running Martin, I want a life, I want to be happy," she stared at him fearfully, "I want you to forgive me… to love me."
"I already do," he pulled her closer into his side and cupped her face in his hands, "I already love you Sam."
A small hesitant smile graced her lips as she sniffed through her tears and leant into him, her breath tickling his earlobe as she whispered in a terrified yet firm voice, "I love you Martin. Please stay."
He pulled her shaking body against his own, slid his hand around the back of her neck and pressed her cheek to his, "That's all I wanted Sam, everything else we can work through," he smiled as he held her to him, "I just needed you to give me a reason to stay."
Samantha nodded, a strange feeling of freedom washed over her as she had uttered those three previously unvoiced words.
"So… you'll give 'us' another try?"
Martin smiled, brushing his lips against hers, "I thought that's what we were already doing?!"
Samantha laughed softly in obvious relief, trying to wipe the tears from her face as she looked around her self-consciously, "God, I must look a mess," she shrugged, gesturing to herself, "well, you wanted to see the real Sam, you got her," she bit her bottom lip nervously and gave him a shy smile, "now what do you think?"
Martin stood and offered his hand to her, helping her to her feet and slowly closing the buttons and belt on her long black coat as she watched him carefully.
"I think..." he kissed the tip of her nose, "its love at first sight."
He grinned as he extended a hand to her in greeting, "Martin Fitzgerald…"
Sam giggled as she played along with his game, "Samantha Spade…it's good to meet you Martin."
They stared at each other silently, no longer needing words to convey their feelings.
They where together again, finally seeing each other without anger, fear or disillusion. The scars on both their hearts would fade over time and all this pain they had endured would be remembered but not dwelled on. It would serve as a constant reminder that their days on this earth, the good and the bad, where meant to be lived together.
Martin looked down at the woman before him and smiled 'that' smile, reaching down and taking her delicate hand in his.
"You wanna get out of here Samantha?"
She nodded eagerly, looping her arm through his and leaning her head on his shoulder as they slowly walked across the lobby to the doors of the FBI building.
"So, you think you might still want to take me to that game?"
"I think it's a distinct possibility."
Martin disentangled their arms and then looped his arm securely around her waist, drawing her closer.
They walked in silence to the doors, avoiding the smirks of the security officers until Martin eventually broke the silence.
"Jack knows," he stated, watching her carefully for a response.
Samantha contemplated this for a second before she brought her hand up to his chest and leant into him, "Well, Danny and Viv already know," she gazed up at him uncertainly, "so I guess now nobody would be surprised if we came into work together tomorrow."
"I guess they won't," Martin replied, kissing her one final time before he took her hand and they began their journey home.