In Retrospect

As usual all characters belong to Cynthia Saunders, Sanders/Moses Productions, NBC and the wonderful cast and crew of Profiler. I'm only borrowing them and promise to put them back unharmed and not make any money off them while they're here. Of course, most of them seem to be MIA at the moment, but you get the idea. :)

In Retrospect
by Beth Arritt
Copyright 1997


Sam Waters sat at her desk, trying to work. But every time she'd look at a file, the calendar would be there. The date caught her attention so easily it might as well have been written in three foot high neon letters.

After fifteen minutes she hadn't managed to finish a page of the file yet, so she decided to try a change of location. She picked up the file and her pen and moved to the couch. The calendar didn't follow, but the memories did.

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"I shoulda known you'd have a couch in your office."

"What about the victims?"

"Nathan and I are gonna hit the streets, go bangin' on a few doors. You wanna tag along, see some real police work?"

"Oh, no, thanks. I'd just slow you down, dragging that couch everywhere."
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Their first day in the VCTF offices. They'd all been so eager to do a good job. Well, Sam had been a little more reluctant at first, but once she slipped back into the routine, she'd been more comfortable with the group than any of the people she'd worked with to that point in her life. And their success rate had been phenomenal. Even Jack had seemed like a problem that could actually be solved, for a while.

She gave up on the file, dropping it onto the coffee table and sinking back into the couch. She closed her eyes and thought about the team. It really had been a great mix from the start. Common interests and goals mixed with just enough differences to make it work. And loyalty. A quality they all shared.

Sam thought about the field training exercise they'd been put through that turned out to be a ruse. Many of the FBI agents she'd known would have sold out their mothers to keep their jobs, no matter what the situation was. But not this group. They closed ranks and pulled through stronger than ever. Or so she had thought.

Had the FTX really only been a couple of months before? It seemed like a lifetime. If anyone had told her then that the VCTF would be in this kind of situation, she would have laughed. But not now.

She looked out the window at the empty desks. Most of the workers had gone home for the evening. Only a few agents on duty to monitor communications and call people in if there was a problem remained. There should have been a celebration. The team should have been out there drinking champagne and toasting success. Instead, Bailey was lying in a hospital bed, John was off with the Atlanta PD and Nathan was off trying to save his marriage. At least Grace had a reason to celebrate, although it was a family one. Even George had gone home. They probably didn't even realize what day it was.

Sam finally admitted to herself that she wouldn't get anything done tonight. She took the file back to her desk and gathered her jacket and her bag. Then she turned off her lamp and walked to the door. She stopped at the railing and looked out over the silent office.

"Happy Anniversary," she whispered softly. Then she turned and walked toward the elevator without looking back.