Disclaimer: I own nothing but my DVDs and I unfortunately don't make any money out of this…

Rating: I guess T would be okay

Paring: J/S! (and right after posting this, I'm back watching Better Angels ;))

Setting: Pre-pilot. I guess beginning of January 2002. Right before the official end of the affair.

Spoilers: None I guess… I mean if you know about the Jack/Sam affair …

Summary: Saying something may be harder than not opening her mouth

A/N: So, where do I start? Second fic here but the first one I actually paid attention to (given the fact that I wrote the over one at 2 a.m. in the morning without reading it ever again).

I'm 16, French, and I have no English/American-beta so even if I usually am a spelling-freak and that I spent quite a long time tracking all the grammatical mistakes down … I guess there will be a few, sorry.

Just wanted to thank Ariane and Melany, my two French betas… And friends! So thank you girls, you just rock!

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YEAH

She sees the colors but doesn't hear the sounds. She sees him, and her, and them, she sees everything and everyone. They're moving, fast, too fast and it seems they don't notice anyone around. It seems… It seems they don't care about the people around them. She assumes it's always like this in big cities. Everywhere in the world. The thing is that she sees them, she notices them. It's her job, the reason she's in this world; to see everyone else. Except after the case is over, she doesn't become a part of their life. No, she… she remains alone.

The car's slowing down and she still sees the colors but doesn't hear the sounds. Well, the colors… No, there are not any colors around here anymore. 'It's winter Samantha', she thinks, 'in New York city, everything's in black and white in winter'. Black: the sky, the cars, the buildings, most of the people's coat. White: the snow.

The snow that makes everything silent. She doesn't even hear the engine now; and it's been half an hour since she last moved. Perhaps she's just spying on them, spying on everyone in this town. It may be as simple as that. Once again, her eyes drift from the road to the sidewalk and she wishes she could hear something else than his breathe.

She wishes she could fall asleep too, wake up when they arrive at her apartment. But that's just a dream, right? And that one doesn't seem to be part of the very few that come true. Why? Because he's there, and she's there, and that for once, New York City is too silent. She starts thinking again; why doesn't she hear anything? Is there something wrong with her? Something might actually explain the situation she's in now?

The car stops. She takes a look outside again and the traffic light's red. Red, just like blood. Why does her brain immediately suggest that thought? Why doesn't she think 'red like poppies' or 'red like a heart'? No… Red remains her of blood and he's the only one who can understand why.

She's lucky; they found their missing person alive this time. Despite of herself, a slight smile forms on her lips. Right, she breathes, this time … Good things always come to an end, don't they? So that wasn't luck. She'll be lucky if their next missing person ends up alive too; but deep down she knows they'll found the following one dead. That doesn't change anything though; she has already experienced the dead bodies, the tears, the fears, the crying mom and the angry boyfriend. She thinks she knows everything about them. It's sad, yes, because she's young, she's twenty six and she has already lost faith. But that's not the bureau's fault; she has to admit she had already lost faith before having her first case.

Her eyes shut for no more than a second. Once again, it's not the FBI's fault if she can't sleep. Maybe turning on the radio will be better than listening to nothing but his silence.

A minute or maybe an hour goes by before he pushes the button another time. And then, then it's just silent again. She doesn't even stop staring at the road in front of her until he starts speaking for something that feels like the first time in a life time.

"Sam-antha, we need to talk", he simply states. But in this car, between his silence and her eyes, everything sounds a lot louder than it should. When the words come to her ears, it feels like he shouted this at her.

'We need to talk'. Talk… She likes the thought at first; until it reminds her of the last time they actually talked. His eyes are back on her and she understands that he didn't mean this as suggestion. This is exactly why section 23 says "don't get into a relationship with your boss" she assumes, he can always give you orders. But Jack… He stopped being her boss such a long time ago that now the only thing she can notice is his voice adding the 'antha' to the usual 'Sam'. His eyes are almost black, just like his tie and jacket. She remembers she used to see them green when they were together this summer. When they were happy and when everything seemed so wrong but felt so right.

"Go ahead" she mutters, leaning back on the car's window.

"Sam," she waits an 'antha' that never comes again "Talking actually involves two people speaking"

She smiles and rolls her eyes. He sounds more determined than ever. This is getting nowhere she admits to herself before continuing "Having a conversation involves two people Jack. You can always talk alone"

"Well, maybe I don't want to"

Jack, Jack, Jack, she wants to say. Jack, Jack, Jack, she wants to scream. I don't wanna talk okay? I don't wanna talk to anybody; I don't wanna talk to you. She lets her eyes drift outside the car. They are in New York City; that's one thing. But actually they're like a hundred miles away from her house and she feels scared about not getting there soon enough.

"That's why you took me with you two days ago, isn't it?" Her voice sounds calmer than she thought it would.

"What are you talking about?"

"You wanted to talk to me so jumped on the occasion. A five hours trip, great job Jack. What I don't get is why you waited all this time, I mean in half an hour we're in front of my building" she breaths and lets the words penetrate him, desperately waiting for a reaction. Something, anything, eye contact at least? No. "And by the way, why you are actually talking to me like I was your five years old kid you need to delight with a candy before asking her something important. Say what you need to say Jack. You're just beating around the bush right now"

Okay, she thinks, that sounded angry. But what's angry in the end? Just a simple state of mind you are in when somebody else is bothering you? When someone you love is – destroying you? She feels his eyes on her for a second but doesn't look back. She doesn't want to see him anymore. She doesn't want to notice him anymore.

"Okay …" He leaves her waiting for his answer. "Look, Sam, I think you agree, we can't go on like this forever"

That's a start, she wants to say, but something keeps her from opening her mouth again. She believes that perhaps having this conversation hurts more than she thought it would. Actually, she had always imagined that saying goodbye would be easy, even to him, just like it had been with all the others. Unfortunately, now she wishes she were stronger. She wishes she could handle this better.

"You know I thought …" He hesitates "I thought we were … Stronger." So did I Jack … "I thought I wasn't going to need you to take a decision like this. You know …" His voice is low now, and she has to concentrate to hear the words coming out of his mouth. "Whatever you decide it's your call, your decision."

She wonders why now. After all, he took the decision to take her in his team, he took the decision to be his friend, he took the decision to sleep with her one night and leave his wife and kids, and he should be taking this decision too. 'Do you want to stay in New York or ask for transfer Sam? I would understand if … You know… If you wanted to stay away from me now' she still hears his voice in her head. They are in her apartment, 'I can't keep on doing this Sam, I can't cheat on my family anymore honey'. So stop calling me Sam, Jack! Stop calling me honey! She wishes she could do something like react, shout, scream, hold him, shoot him whatever; instead of just staying here, staring at him. And she wants him to keep loving her. She feels betrayed and she feels lost. As usual, she realizes what she has, or had, when everything is gone. Now, take a deep breath Samantha she thinks, and ask him the question he apparently won't be able to ask you again.

"Do you want me to stay?" Not even a second passes by before he answers "Yeah"

Gosh, she wishes she could have given him an answer like this instead of throwing it back at him. Her heart is beating fast when he continues "Don't ask me why"

Too bad, she really would have liked to ask him why he wants to risk jeopardizing both their careers and their lives.

"Then I'll stay"

It comes out of nowhere. Seriously, she can't even remember thinking about telling him this. She closes her eyes and she can't believe what she's just done. What she's just agreed too. She wants him to say something, to say that he trusts her, to admit he's a hundred per cent sure: they're gonna succeed, they're gonna pass through this. What he doesn't know is that she had already prepared her transfer letter. What he doesn't know is that she had been doing the pros and the cons for the last two weeks and came up absolutely sure it was the right thing to do.

But you can't live just your life like this, can you? Everything's not black, nor white; nor wrong, nor right. It's all about compromises and lies and mind games, isn't it?

********************

She wakes up when the car's just stopping in front of her building.

"Hey" He says, taking his keys out of the car.

"How long have I been …" She tails off. It's just pointless. Who cares? "You didn't wake me up?"

"Sam you hadn't slept a minute in the last 36 hours… I thought maybe you needed some rest"

"You haven't slept either"

"I'll be okay"

A couple words, a couple of sentences and it's silent again. An awkward and uncomfortable and scary silence. He is looking at her now and it's getting more and more complicated to avoid saying something. Yeah, he learned her that. Staring right in the person's eyes, no talking… Silence is always frightening people Samantha, go into an interrogation room and keep silent, you'll get confession. Unfortunately, she hasn't planned any confession for today so she decides just to stare back until she can finally make him feel the suffocating silence.

"Okay hum… Let me help you get your bags"

A second later he literally escapes the car and she's about to laugh. Men… They can't hotness in winter. She takes a deep breath and gets out.

********************

She doesn't really want to know how he ended up here. Arguing on some dumb point like she's a woman and the guy yesterday hit her badly and she shouldn't carry anything heavy, she assumes. The thing is… She promised herself; seriously she was truly determined to say no. But when the moment came, when he asked her if she needed some help to carry her things up, she simply couldn't say no.

Now, now it's almost eight in the evening and they are right there, just in front of her apartment and the only thing she can hear is her heart beating faster than ever.

"Hum, I…" She searches her pockets once again, feeling the air getting thinner as he breathes in her neck. She tags and decides to turn round in order to face him. "I think my keys are in my bag, I'll just…" Then, then his face is just in front of her eyes and she stops controlling her trembling voice. "I, huh …"

The keys are dangling on his finger. "Relax … You haven't lost them… Again" What game is he playing? Was this supposed to be funny? Reminding her of what they were just a few weeks ago? She instantly remembers the day when she called him in the middle of the night, begging him to come to her apartment, with the set of keys she had given him a few months before. God she felt so ashamed when he arrived with the keys as she was sitting in front of her own door unable to get into her apartment. He quickly explained her that he had lied to his wife earlier, telling her they had a new important case. They had plenty of time, right? She wasn't expecting anyone for the night, was she? No. And now, only a few weeks later, she feels like the memory is certainly beginning to hurt. He had stayed the night at the time, holding her close in his arms …

She closes her eyes painfully, taking her keys in his hand and turns back to face the door.

"Look Jack…" The door unlocks and she quickly opens it; feeling the hot air of her artificially heated apartment invading her, warming her from her skin to her blood. He sounds calm, his previously troubled breath slowing down right behind her. He puts her bag down and she hears a big "bang" when it hits the floor just next to her. He gets closer, she closes her eyes. Don't look at me Jack. Once again, the air becomes suffocating. She wishes the snow outside could make the inside of the buildings freezing too. "Jack…" she repeats but finally tails off once again. He's staring, staring at her. Their eyes lock and she knows. She knows this is not a good idea at all. A part of her really wants to speak, say it out loud. If she talks, if she breaks this moment, he will walk away and she knows that it will be the right thing to do. But doing the right thing hurts almost as bad as not doing anything at all. She has never been good at this. If she had been, she wouldn't have slept with him in the first place. He's your boss Samantha, your married-with-two-young-daughters boss. Although she doesn't really want to, she tries to ask, to take a breath, and stop for a second. While thinking about the job she tries. While thinking Kate, and Hannah, and Maria she tries. While thinking about him, and about her and how bad this is gonna hurt when it will all be over she tries. She knows it is not a good idea when he starts looking at her like that, doesn't she? It is not a good idea either when he starts caressing her cheek with his thumb, his other hand cascading from her neck to the small of her back.

And when his tongue finally finds its way in her mouth, brushing desperately against her lips… Oh no… This is not the right thing to do.

They enter her apartment and as she throws heavily her bag on the floor, she doesn't even put the light on. The moon only helps her seeing his face, his eyes, and somehow, that's just enough for her to continue. It's not like she suddenly stops thinking. No, she thinks about him, about his children, about the fact that it's just be a matter of time before she knows, she thinks about the consequences this can have, on the job, on her sleepless nights, on their relationship that was supposed to be over. This is gonna hurt. Badly. She starts wondering, what if she talked now? Would it change something, anything? Would it be able to stop what's going on? This is wrong. Is it too late? She's right between him and the wall now, in the middle of the corridor that leads to her room. The last button of her blouse is off. Yes, maybe it is. She dreams that they could just do this, love each over. She wishes that it wouldn't be a problem for both of them. Against his lips, as they enter the room, she sights. This would be too easy. So that's it, huh? A week and a half and they're back together. When is this gonna end? Will 'us' last forever? No. She finally drops the idea of stopping what just can't be stopped. She can't talk. She can't ask him all those damn questions. Seeing that she finally lets go her last reluctances, he kisses her one more time before throwing her on the bed, taking his shirt of too. Some things are really better left unsaid, aren't they? She can at least answer one question by herself now. This is not gonna end when his wife will learn about everything. This will not end when they both will get fired by an OPR investigation. No… This will end when one of them will be able to say something. This will end when one of them will be able to say no.

FIN (The End)

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A/N: So how was it? Please review; it will take you only a minute and I'll be happy ;)!

P.S: Okay, I've got to admit; I got the idea of this fic listening to the PCD song I hate this part:

'Driving slow through the snow on 5th avenue, and right now radio's all that we can hear …'