Jack and Co are presented with a case of ransom only this time it's personal and there's more at stake. Martin does the unthinkable and Sam's forced to confront her feelings. S/M
Chapter One: Unintended
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the F.B.I, I just dream about them but the plot is mine, my own, my preciousssssssssssss.
A/N- Another idea for a WaT fanfic that is begging to be written. It's going to be five Chapters long and it's kinda Action-y wherein lies the problem …… I don't write action well, in fact I usually avoid it so I'm just warning you …… p
Dedicated to:
All those who have helped increase my WaT obsession, for those who I obsess with and for those who keep me informed so I know about the show without watching it.
"Well, I'm off now." Samantha Spade announced, poking her head round the door where Martin was working.
"Yeah, me too." Martin said, standing up and closing the files he had been working on. "Too much paperwork." he sighed, putting on his jacket and stuffing the files into his bag.
"Tell, me about it." Samantha said, pressing the button for the elevator. "It's been a long day."
"Do you always find it's hard not to get too involved with a case?" Martin asked, getting into the elevator and closing the doors.
Samantha thought about it, running a hand through her hair. "Sometimes. I mean Viv and Jack are usually quite good at distancing themselves but I get so caught up sometimes, you just want to help those people, find them alive you know."
"Yeah," he sighed.
They walked out of the elevator into the lobby, nodding to the security guards.
"Well, goodnight." Samantha said, as they waked out into the brisk cold air.
Martin hesitated. "Hey Sam, do you have time for a quick drink?" he asked.
Samantha turned to him apologetically. "Sorry, I'm meeting someone."
Martin nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. "Cool, well, I'll see you tomorrow then." he said lightly, turning and walking off.
Samantha stood there watching him go for a second. Maybe she was reading too much into it but he seemed really disappointed. She kinda wished that she hadn't made other plans now. "Martin?" she called. He stopped and turned. "Maybe next time?" He nodded and waved.
Sam smiled to herself. He was cute, attentive and a great guy. It was going to be hard sticking to her oath to never get involved with someone at work again. She walked away to the restaurant, her mind dwelling on thoughts of her co-worker.
Martin pulled up a stool up to the bar with a sigh. "Half a pint of Fosters please." he said.
"Here alone again Martin?" Tom the bartender said, coming up and handing him his drink.
"Looks like it." Martin said.
"Someone from work?" Tom questioned. Martin nodded. "Oooh a hot and feisty F.B.I agent, nice……… she's not a prude is she?"
"No, hot and feisty just about covers it." Martin said with a tired smile.
"So why haven't you two hooked up yet?"
"She's just not into me." Martin stated.
"Is it 'cos she's too professional to walk down that path?" Tom persisted, ignoring Martin.
Martin paused for a moment. "No, it's 'cos she's seeing someone else."
"Someone at work?"
"No, I don't know who he is. Sam and I don't really talk about that kinda stuff." Martin explained.
"Wait – Sam … Samantha Spade? That pretty blonde Agent that you came in here with to interview me about that missing girl?" Tom said with a grin. Martin nodded dully, he could see where this was going. Tom whistled. "Whooo, you're aiming high, brother." he exclaimed.
"Thanks." Martin said dryly, draining his glass and getting up. "You've really made me feel better."
As he walked out of the bar, a cold wind had got up and he pulled his coat closer around him as he hailed a cab. Maybe Samantha was too good for him, maybe he was just wasting his time. He sighed, he was going to go home, look over the files, get a take away and maybe watch a film. Sounded like a plan.
He got out of the taxi, paid his fare and wandered into the apartment lobby, getting his post from his pigeonhole. Nothing interesting, a few bills, a postcard from his sister and some junk mail.
"Mr Fitzerald." the receptionist called. Martin turned. "Got a package for you." he said.
Martin looked at the package. His name and address was scrawled on the paper like it was written in a hurry; there was no postmark. "When was this delivered?" he asked.
"About five minutes before you came in." the receptionist answered. "A motorbike pulled up and a man came in."
"Did you see what he looked like?" Martin questioned.
The receptionist shook his head. "He kept his helmet on – he seemed in a hurry though."
"Okay, thanks." Martin said, frowning.
"Is there a problem Sir?"
"No, I guess I'm just too suspicious for my own good." he smiled, walking to the elevator.
Martin walked into his apartment and switched on the lights. With his foot he shut the door, and dropping his bag and coat on a chair, he ripped open the package. A videotape fell out, no letter, no label. Martin picked it up and looked it over, something didn't feel right about this. He pushed it into his player, turned on the TV and sat down on the sofa.
At first there was nothing, just black then on the screen came a close up of a face of a man hooded and wearing a balaclava. The camera was wobbling a bit and Martin could vaguely hear the sound of cars driving. It was being filmed in the back of a truck. The hairs on the back of Martin's neck started to prick up, he hoped this was just a sick joke.
The man began to speak; he had a deep, growling voice, which Martin didn't recognise.
'Agent Fitzerald. We have something of yours here that we're willing to destroy unless you give us what we want. We have a proposition for you. You turn up, unarmed, at 44 Hudson Street at 8pm sharp and we'll discuss it there. Someone will be there to meet you on the doorstep. You tell no one about this, you bring no police, agents and if you even think about telling the rest of your team, she gets killed. We'll know. Gottit?' The man's eyes flashed dangerously then the camera jerked away, coming to rest on a woman being held down by another balaclavered man. She was struggling and managed to wave him off for a second. "Martin, don't come, it's a trap." she shouted at the screen before she was pinned down by the men. The screen faded to black.
"Oh my God Samantha." Martin cried, jumping to his feet.
A/N- Comments and criticism appreciated. )