Authors Note: First of all I want to say a huge thank you to DianeM for beta reading this for me. It's not a typical WaT story and so for her to agree at all was incredibly kind, for her to work through what turned out to be appalling punctuation (in my defence I didn't realise it was quite that bad) was even kinder. A while back on Maple Street I asked for prompts, I tried to write with those but every word was torture. I did some free association and realised that I just wasn't enthused about that story. Then I got this crazy idea for what turned out to be a multi-show crossover. I wrote almost 12,000 words in a day and another 5,000 to finish the story the next day. This has actually turned out to be a part one, of probably three. I hope that this story will be understandable to everyone, rather than just people who watch all four shows. Anyway, if you're confused about please let me know so I can try and edit in an explanation. It's a bit difficult for me being a fan of all four to see it from the perspective of a non-viewer. The shows are Alias (from 1.15 Page 47), CSI:NY (from 5.04 Sex,Lies and Silicone), Numb3rs (pre-Janus List) and of course Without a Trace (from Fall Out). No show is really bigger than the others but will only let me cross it over in two categories. I hope that you enjoy reading at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it, I really had fun writing this. Enjoy! Oh nearly forgot there's one change I made to canon so this story would work that you might just want to keep in mind. This is set in New York so Alias and Numb3rs are also set there as opposed to LA which is canon.

Jack Malone sat in the chair by his marital bed, the early morning sunlight from the window bathing him in soft light. He'd been sitting there a while watching his wife sleep, feeling sort of numb to it all. Time had passed and he hadn't really noticed. It was only now that Maria was starting to stir that he suddenly realised what he was doing and that watching someone sleep when they were unaware that you were there could be construed as somewhat creepy. Maria's eyelids flickered open and she saw him; it was a little late to turn back. To her credit, she didn't scream or even say anything, she just stared at him in frank appraisal for a long minute.

"I suppose you want to come back," Maria said very matter of factly, sitting up in bed and watching Jack now with cool eyes.

Jack nodded slowly.

In truth, he wasn't sure at all that's what he wanted but that's what seemed to be the right thing to do. Maria was his wife, the mother of his children. He'd got so caught up in his work he'd let it fall apart, then he'd compounded that error by having an affair. A small corner of his brain whispered traitorously that it wasn't exactly an affair, well not how he would have imagined one to be like. In the dark recesses of his heart he admitted what his mind refused to acknowledge - that he loved Samantha in a way he'd never loved his wife. However, right then that couldn't matter. Maria was his wife, the mother of his children.

"There's blood on your shirt," Maria commented absently, getting out of bed and tying on a robe.

"It's not mine," Jack responded, feeling a flashback of the gut-wrenching terror he'd felt when he'd first seen Samantha, lying pale and bleeding on the floor of the bookstore.

Something must have shown on his face because Maria frowned, "Whose is it?"

Jack hesitated, "Samantha's."

"I see," Maria said tightly. "What happened?"

"Had a drop go bad, our suspect held Samantha and a half dozen other people hostage. One of the hostages decided to play hero and Samantha was shot," Jack told her, hoping she would leave it at that. Maria hadn't asked any questions about his work since shortly after they were married. However, with the tenacity she usually saved for the courtroom, she continued. It was like she smelled blood.

"How did she bleed on you, Jack?"

With an air of a man who knew he was condemned, Jack decided to just tell the truth. "The suspect was being uncooperative and she was bleeding to death. I went into the bookstore and got her out."

"Your suspect just let you do that?"

"No, I had to stay as a hostage." Jack couldn't look at her. His marriage had been on the rocks long before his relationship with Samantha had gone beyond professional boundaries. However, he supposed the insult of him being with another woman made Maria blame his affair as being the reason why their marriage almost ended.

"You traded your life for hers, your life for your whore." Jack opened his mouth to object - Samantha was not a whore - but Maria was just getting up a full head of steam. "Did you stop to think at all about your daughters? Your suspect had already shot one FBI agent, who's to say he wouldn't have shot you? How could you be so selfish?" Somehow Jack knew that she wasn't saying that because she was concerned; it was just something to bash him for. She'd been looking for a reason since she woke up. It was going to be a long, painful reconciliation. He just wished he could be sure it was worth it, because part of him - a bigger part than he wanted to acknowledge - was screaming that this was the wrong move.

Brooklyn, New York

Two Weeks Later

"What a way to spend a Saturday night," Colby commented dryly. "Anything yet?"

"No," David replied, looking through the binoculars again. They were in the apartment across the street from the storage unit they were watching. An informant had tipped them off that Mason, a popular go-to guy for high-end weapons, was getting out of the game, that tonight was going to be his last hurrah. They'd been trying to get something on him for years; tonight might well be their last chance.

"Nothing's going to happen, we've been played. I bet Mason's at home having a good laugh," Colby said, shaking his empty coffee cup in annoyance.

"I'll take that bet," David smiled, handing Colby the binoculars. Colby looked through them and saw that Mason had just arrived. Another car pulled up behind them and three men and a woman got out. Mason looked around him before opening the unit, then gestured for his guests to stay put and disappeared inside. "Yeah, Don Mason's arrived and he's not alone. Okay, see you in a minute," David said as he pulled his gun out of his holster and readied it. Colby did the same. They swiftly left the apartment, crossed the street and got into position, about a hundred yards away from their suspect. In the meantime, Mason had been busy. Three of his guests were now holding machine guns, the fourth held a case which probably contained explosives.

"We're in position, Don," David whispered, and turned to Colby. "On three." Using his fingers, David did the three count and then stood up.

"FBI," David and Colby shouted. A hundred yards in the other direction he heard Don and Megan do the same.

Mason dove for the storage unit; one of the buyers moved the machine gun in a circular motion, firing and causing the FBI agents to dive for cover. The other buyers had got back in the SUV. Still firing sporadically, the last man backed up to the SUV before quickly getting inside. Don and Colby both shot at the car but before they could even think about pursuing, Mason re-emerged and he was heavily armed. All four of the FBI agents fired at him. Mason dropped to the ground and there was an explosion, knocking the agents back down to the ground. Don staggered back up on his feet and shakily aimed his gun back in Mason's direction, or what was left of him. Mason and his storage unit were gone; all that was left was a burning crater. The paperwork was going to be fun on this one.

Credit Dauphine

One Week Later

The security agent pulls out his radio. "Hey you know about any AC repairs?" A man dressed in overalls appears behind him and hits him over the head. An assault team of five men and a woman disappear through a newly made hole in the wall. Another agent enters his access number on a panel to turn off lazers, one of the men breaks his neck, the team run down the hall. In the office above they knock out gas pumps through the AC system, and within minutes everyone is out cold.

...

"Explosives in place, activating detonator." With a boom of plastic explosive, a hole is made in the wall. The assault team is now in the room to access the vault.

...

"I'm a federal officer! Step out of the car, please. I'd like to ask you a few questions." The man gets out of the car, the federal officer sees his gun, a struggle ensues, the gun goes off, the driver slumps down dead. The federal officer throws him in the back of his own van and goes into the building through the hole in the wall.

...

One of the goons has a heartbeat detector. There's a heartbeat coming hidden from inside a locker. With a smile he raises his machine gun and fires a burst. He opens the locker, one of his comrade's falls out dead. From behind him a female agent approaches and shoots him once in the back of the head.

...

"Cole, come on," the female goon calls. He turns in a rage and shoots her twice.

...

"Kill them all." The last two goons left apart from the boss raise their machine guns. The female agent throws an explosive ring; it knocks one of the men into the path of bullets from the other. A male agent kicks the last remaining goon, takes his gun and shoots him. The invasion was over.

Samantha's Apartment

At The Same Time

He was in hell and, contrary to popular belief, it wasn't warm there - it was cold, ice cold, numbingly cold. That was what he was, numb. It was three weeks after the bookstore incident and this was the first time he'd gone to see Samantha. Well, technically the first time he'd gone to see her. If his travels had taken him to St. Vincent's Hospital from time to time, and if he'd wandered up to her floor and looked in through the window, and maybe read her chart occasionally, that was just happy coincidence. Samantha had been released after a week; they didn't keep people in hospital five minutes these days. If he'd occasionally driven past her apartment building after that, and spoken to her building super, well he was just a concerned boss. He wondered whom he was lying to, himself because that was pointless because he knew the truth. Although if he was lying to himself, it was easier to lie convincingly to Maria. He hated himself for that, she deserved better. She might seem to relish tearing him to pieces, but she was a good person, the mother of his children. It was his guilt over being so apathetic to let it fall apart, when faced with Barry Mashburn's overwhelming love for his wife, that had taken him back to her. He'd been raised to believe that parents should stick together; that it was better for the children that way. God only knows that his parents might have been happier apart but they'd stayed together. He wanted what was best for his daughters, although he was starting to doubt that this was it. Watching their mother verbally beat their father couldn't be good for them. It was a little late for doubts, though, because he was somewhat committed. He kept that in mind when the team went to visit Samantha at her apartment. She'd been home two weeks and would be back to work in a week, but this was the first time the team had managed to get together. They'd been busy with cases and being an agent down and with him on desk duty while his actions over the bookstore were reviewed, they'd been even busier. Danny had still insisted they go visit, and while the gift of the food hamper would probably have been more appreciated two weeks ago, it was the thought that counted. Samantha greeted them happily enough, but Jack knew her well and could sense she was somewhat withdrawn and she wouldn't meet his eyes, or maybe it was he who wouldn't meet hers.