So, this is a new version of the first chapter, corrected thanks to cynically optimistic's precious advice! Then, the next two chapters are following just behind...

Disclaimer : I still have no imagination so this is still a cross-over between WAT and Tesis by Alejandro Amenabar. Then, the story is set during autumn 2001, so I think you know what the other topic of the story is!

I don't own WAT, I don't own Tesis... I just playing with them during my vacations!

PROLOGUE

6 : 55 pm. The announcement requesting the few remaining students to start gathering their things and leave the library had resounded fifteen minutes earlier. The personal lamps adorning the long wooden desks were off, the comfortable seats back in place. The security guard was walking slowly along the corridors, checking one more time that nobody had stayed behind. In the background, he could hear the clear voices of the employees who were commenting how untidy and rude some of the students were, chatting about their plans for the evening, happy to get out from the stuffy and hushed atmosphere of the venerable library. The man smiled knowingly. He certainly could empathize with those people's relief to be able to speak out loud after along and tiring day of almost hushed words. As usual, he checked one last time the small room dedicated to the media section. Four wooden desks in the centre. Shelves covering the four walls. An antique camera in the corner. And of course, as usual, one lonely lamp was still on. Shaking his head in amusement, the guard walked quietly towards the young woman who was compulsively reading extracts of newspapers and playing nervously with her pen. He put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, making her start in surprise. In response, she brusquely pushed his hand away and looked up with a fugitive fearful stare that slowly faded as she became conscious of her surroundings. Suddenly ashamed by her strange reaction, the young woman smiled apologetically.

"Oh, Mitch… I'm sorry. I was so absorbed by… Well, you know me, I just didn't hear the announcement."

"No problema, chica," the guard soothed her, another sympathetic grin lifting his thin moustache. "C'mon, I'll gather your stuff while you put your papers back in place. There are a few minutes left before this place closes."

For the first time since he had entered the room, a quiet expression appeared on her face as she nodded in acceptance.

Sighing, Mitch locked the main doors.

"Y'know, chica, you should relax from time to time. No offence, but y'look like hell these days."

The young woman timidly looked down, holding her bag against her tightly.

"Yeah, I know…" she whispered in a tired voice. "It's just that damn thesis, you know. I have to finish it before next June and I haven't written anything good yet."

"Wanna hear a good piece of advice?" the man asked, quietly guiding her towards the park. "Take some free time. Relax. I'm not a specialist or a great teacher, but I'm sure you'll work better after a few days of vacation."

"We'll see," she replied simply, her mind clearly absorbed by some problems the guard could not decipher. "But thanks anyway, Mitch," she said finally with a small smile after a few seconds of silence.

Shrugging, he punched her shoulder playfully:

"Anytime, chica. Now go and get a long night of sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

Mitch waved one last time at her then resumed his walk, thinking that sometimes being a simple security guard was much better and easier than being a brilliant, promising student.

…/…

"So, how many today?" Samantha asked in a playful tone as she saw Jack almost jumping from his chair to get his pack of cigarettes. Really, the cigarette after dinner was the hardest to get rid of. Well, as far as she was concerned the first one in the morning gave her a hard time too. Then the one at the end of a case was quite difficult, she could tell. Good ending, bad ending, since her first day in the Missing Persons Unit, everything was an excuse to go out on the balcony and share a quiet moment with her superior.

"Less than you," Jack answered, joining her in the kitchen with the demonic pack.

"Then, how many?" she insisted as he tried to silence her banter with a soft kiss. Sam smiled and stole a cigarette. "Mine is empty. I'm gonna save this one for later, okay?" she explained with a mischievous grin. In fact, the hardest one to give up was the cigarette Jack and she used to share after making love. It had quickly become a somewhat sacred ritual, a way to postpone his inevitable departure, even for five minutes.

Still, tonight, he was hers entirely. Tonight, no early departure would remind her harshly that he was not hers to have in the first place. Tonight, the illusion that he was her man and no one else's would go on until the next morning. When a frowning Jack had announced to her first thing in the morning that Maria had taken the girls to her sister's for a few days of vacation, her first feeling had been sincere sympathy for him and his daughters since it seemed that one more time, he and Maria had been unable, maybe unwilling, to take vacations at the same time. At times like this one, her feelings were almost schizophrenic. Even if this kind of situation rejoiced her for it offered them the occasion to spend an entire night together, deep inside, she could not help but suffer for this family slowly but surely falling apart. Maybe it was her guilty but hidden conscience trying to make her realize the role she was playing in this process. However, the sole idea of being able to wake up in his arms the next morning had quickly overwhelmed her and she forgot everything but the anticipation she always felt when she knew she would be able of spending an entire night with him. Jack had noticed the well known light in her eyes and a small but impatient smile had formed on his lips too.

"Three," he said proudly. "One this morning after breakfast, one after we found the kid and this one," he counted on his fingers with mock application.

"Damn, you beat me today. I'm ashamed to admit I smoked five," Samantha commented as she let her head rest on his shoulder, quietly watching him enjoy his long waited cigarette.

"You'll do better tomorrow, I'm sure," Jack reassured her in a whisper, brushing her temple with butterfly kiss. Then, he asked with a mischievous grin, his fingers playing with a lock of golden hair: "By the way, don't I deserve a reward, or something?"

"For what?" Samantha feigned innocence.

"Let's say because, as you said earlier, I beat you today," he whispered with a low tone, the very one which made her feel special. The young woman suddenly shivered in anticipation. Suppressing the urge to utter the forbidden words, a task she found more and more difficult as days went by, she let her hand wander slowly towards his belt buckle.

"Well, I may think about a little something," she replied at last. Then she took the cigarette from his mouth, trashed it in the ashtray and replaced it with her lips. The feel of her mouth covering his, deepening the kiss, of her hands stroking his hair made her lover immediately forget his need for nicotine. He took her in his arms without warning, making her laugh with delight in the process and carried her to the bedroom.

Cigarettes were a severe addiction, they had come to learn that since the bet they made two months ago. Still, they had discovered another addiction during those two glorious months, an addiction they were unwilling or unable to fight. At least, not yet.