TITLE - Colloquy

AUTHOR - Devanie Maxwell

RATING - PG

CATEGORY - VRA

SPOILERS - Fallout I and II; vague spoilers for Are You Now or Have You Ever Been.

SUMMARY - He wasn't supposed to love her, but he did. That's what made it complicated.

DISCLAIMER - Jack and Marie don't belong to me. Neither do Samantha or Danny, for that matter. They're the property of CBS, Bruckheimer, and Hank Steinberg.

NOTES - To M and S for all the support and feedback. You guys are amazing and inspire me daily. To A for inexplicably saving this story right before my computer crashed and I lost everything. Sniff. Farrell. To B for the title and for being so supportive and just rocking so hard in general. Much love to Maple Street and all the wonderful writers at yourtaxdollarsatwork.org!

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The crimson stain on his collar wasn't lipstick, but it still seemed like some kind of macabre cliche. Going home to his wife wearing the blood of his mistress.

It wasn't the first thing Marie had noticed; he watched her expression change from disorientation to surprise and then to thinly veiled annoyance. He had expected that--not being in that house, that bedroom for nine months. Gone emotionally for an undefined time before that. He watched as she sat up against the pillows, pulling the bedspread higher around her torso. Raising a barrier, the profiler in him noted. Opening his mouth to speak, he heard her sleep addled voice break the silence first. "What are you doing here?"

Putting himself in her position, Jack realized that was probably the best greeting he could have have hoped for. "I needed to speak to you. See the kids."

"At seven in the morning? Is something wrong?"

He didn't know where to begin, so he didn't. "I came to a realization this morning. About how much I've taken for granted in my life. You. The girls. Everything that doesn't directly involve my work. I owe you an apology for that."

Marie was more awake now, but the confusion hadn't dissipated. "And you drove over here at daybreak to tell me this?"

"I walked, actually."

She was getting agitated now. "What's going on?"

The eastern sun was pressing through the window now, burning into his back as the black fabric absorbed the heat. Shrugging out of his jacket he kept eye contact with his wife, wondering how to broach the motivation for his visit. Realizing he wouldn't have to as he watched her eyes find the spot on his shirt that would likely forever be a reminder of the last 24 hours. "Oh my God, Jack. What happened?"

Closing his eyes for a moment, he opted for the press release version. "We had a ransom drop go bad in a bookstore. Seven hostages initially, including a member of my team. I negotiated for the release of the hostages, and ended up as one myself. The hostage taker was emotionally unstable, and I was able to diffuse the situation.

"And the blood?"

"Not mine." He chose his next words carefully, deciding that minimalizing the situation, minimalizing her was too high a price to pay for sparing Marie's feelings with falsehoods now. "Samantha was shot; she was undercover in the bookstore."

Silence fell over the room like a blanket, the only sound coming from the ticking of the living room wall clock. Eye contact was avoided, until Marie offered a quiet "I'm sorry."

And he was sure that was sincere. Equally sure that any mention of Samantha brought no small amount of resentment and pain. "We got her out and they took her to the hospital. She was in there for a long time."

"He wouldn't release an injured hostage?"

"He found her badge. An agent quickly becomes a bargaining chip in these things."

"And you cut a deal."

Spoken like a true lawyer. "I negotiated a trade." He watched comprehension cross her features. "Agent for an agent." Life for a life.

"Was this your decision?"

"Yes."

Marie leaned forward now, her elbows resting on her knees. "You're okay? Why did you decide to come here?"

The pounding in his head was increasing, and he wondered why he was still sitting there at all. "Barry--that was the hostage taker's name--made me realize how selfish I've become. Taking everything for granted. I have two daughters and a wife and I've put them behind the job that keeps me away from them in the first place."

Her response was instant, cold. "That's assuming that this is all about work."

"Work was the genesis."

"It became about more than work when you slept with someone else, Jack. I don't even have solace of knowing it was a one-night stand. How long did it last? Six months? A year? Or is it still going on?"

Her tone was harsh, but justified. He kept his voice level. "It's over." Watching her face, he continued. "And a little over a year."

He wished he could see anger in her eyes, or disbelief, but the dull acceptance there shook him to the core. They had never told anyone how long their relationship lasted. It would make it easy to chalk it up as a mistake, an impetuous decision made by two agents deadened to everything but their work and each other. Telling Marie now was both a release and an instant regret.

"Are you in love with her?"

The air was now stifling as Jack weighed the options. Honesty or semantics. Which one would hurt less? "I'm not sure."

"You traded yourself for her. There must be some feelings there." Marie was a very good attorney, and he felt like he was on the stand. Now would be the perfect time to tell her that he would have sacrificed himself for any of his agents. That he wouldn't have thought twice if it was Danny or Vivian or Martin in that bookstore. That Sam's life was really no more important than anyone's.

But he couldn't. Couldn't because he might have considered going tactical had it been anyone else. Maybe thought about calling Barry's bluff and waiting out the situation. Tried letting him talk to his kids one more time. Instead, he could only think about the woman bleeding out on the worn, red carpeting and how he couldn't imagine walking into the office and not seeing her there. Maybe he was selfish, but it wasn't just for the reason Barry stated. Wanting to save Samantha's life at the expense of his own was selfless. Saving her to better his own was not. "There are."

"Then why are you here?" She repeated her earlier question, but this time he saw anger. The relief he felt was unsettling.

Because I'm not supposed to love her. "I told her it was over." He paused. "I almost didn't. I knew her feelings for me and wasn't at all sure if you'd even answer the phone if I were to call anymore. Then I realized that was my fault, that the reason we're in this situation is because I screwed up."

"How noble, Jack. You didn't think of that before you slept with your colleague the first time? Or for the year after that? At what point did you realize that maybe cheating on your wife was wrong? Was it before or after I asked you to leave?"

They sat without speaking for a few moments, Jack treating her questions as the rhetoricals they most likely were. When he spoke again, Marie's gaze didn't waver from the wall across from her bed. "She isn't to blame for our problems. Our marriage was damaged long before..." Jack didn't know how to classify what he and Samantha had, so he let the silence fill in the blank.

"Can you say it's really over?"

The ring of a cell phone made them both jump, and he instinctively pulled it from his pocket. Flipping it open, he recognized Danny's number. He raised his eyes to Marie and she nodded, her eyes distant.

"Danny."

"Hey, boss. I just wanted to let you know that Sydney Harrison is being checked out by doctors and that Barry is scheduled for arraignment tomorrow morning at ten. You'll need to be there unless you file otherwise."

"I'll be there."

"Samantha's in surgery. The bullet hit bone and nicked an artery."

Jack winced. "What do the doctors think?"

"She'll recover. Probably won't get around the obstacle course at Quantico anytime soon, but I don't know if any of us would."

He smiled for the first time in two days. "She'd probably still beat any of us, actually."

"The surgery will be over soon, then they're going to move her to the ICU."

"I'll be there."

He closed his phone and looked toward his wife.

She wasn't there.

FIN