This is a collection of conversations I'm not quite sure what to do with.
They won't be presented in sequential order, but hopefully when I'm
finished them all, they will produce a possible picture of a past, present
and possible future for J/S. Slightly AU, since we never know WHAT the PTB
will do. Or at least I don't.
Hope you enjoy. Comments, questions, etc., are always welcome. Thanks as always for the beta-ing from DM. KM, I'm sorry life got too busy. I'll miss your commentary and insight.
Conversations - A: You Never Know... By: Mariel
Jack Malone closed his phone and looked across the restaurant table to find Samantha looking at him with a slight frown on her face. Feeling caught, he hooked the cell phone back onto his belt. He'd said too much, or his tone had given him away. Mentally, he kicked himself for not being more careful.
"You don't seem terribly happy," she commented, before he could say anything.
Avoiding her knowing look, he still felt compelled to answer honestly. "I'm not." He placed his hands on the table in front of him. Looking down at them, he noted the gleam of the band on his left ring finger and wondered how much he could tell her. The thought was strange to him, because he never spoke of his marriage to anyone. He'd never even been tempted to. It seemed easier that way - or had, until now.
Now, sitting under the scrutiny of Samantha Spade's dark eyes, he felt an inexplicable urge to reveal more to her than he had to anyone else.
"You never talk about her," she said in a soft voice.
"No."
"Maybe you should."
Still reluctant to speak, he sat in silence for a moment. Special Agent Samantha Spade had joined his Missing Persons team two years ago. She'd seemed the perfect addition to his unit, and he'd never regretted his choice. To his surprise, however, they'd developed a rapport that at times transcended any working relationship he'd ever had. Now was one of those times.
He took a deep breath and finally said, "Talking about her would mean talking about my marriage. People don't necessarily want to hear about it." In a weak attempt to avoid what he was sure was coming, he added, "Besides, marriage is something you have to live in order to understand."
"Well," she offered, "I was married once. For a few months. If there's one thing it taught me, it was to recognize marital problems when I saw them."
He looked at her, wondering if he should pretend total suprise. It had been in her file, and he'd always wondered about it.
"A few months?" he asked.
She nodded and smiled slightly. "Yeah. I was young, stupid, and in love. Or thought I was. In love, I mean. Now I know differently, but then..." She shook her head. "He was really something."
Admiring the way her eyes warmed as they focussed on her memories, he couldn't help but smile. Without thinking he said, "He'd've had to have been something, to attract you."
She glanced at him in surprise. Feeling oddly flustered at what she couldn't help but take as a compliment, she blushed and looked away. "We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into," she explained, "and we were so totally different in so many ways, that when you put us together in the same space, day after day, with nothing in common but our bed times..." She grimaced. "It just didn't work."
"But you don't hate him." There was a certain amount of surprise in his voice.
She looked at him with wide, clear eyes. "No, why would I? It just didn't work out. We weren't incompatible on purpose, it just turned out that way." She smiled slightly. "He was an okay guy, just not the right one for me to be with."
He wondered what it would be like to be the right one for her. Oddly disconcerted by that thought, he forced himself to get back on topic. "Not all marriages have the potential to end so amicably."
She shrugged. "We didn't have kids or possessions to fight over. Maybe we were lucky to be so young. It made it easier to cut our losses and run." Raising her eyes to meet his, she tilted her head to one side slightly. "Something tells me your situation isn't so clear cut."
"No, it's not," he admitted, not feeling that she was either prying or being critical. Giving in to the urge to continue talking, he said, "We've been married more than ten years. We've got two beautiful girls-"
"That you adore," Samantha broke in, smiling.
He nodded. "That I adore."
Before he could continue, she observed bluntly, "But you're not happy, and I'm willing to bet your wife isn't, either."
She was right, and he felt a sudden release of tension when he admitted, "Yeah. Maria hasn't been happy for a while. Even this trip is bothering her. It's the second I've had to go on this month, and she's finding it more and more difficult to deal with my being away. She never used to. Lately..." his voice drifted off. Lately, everything seemed to be more difficult for her to deal with. He knew that was a sign that there were things they needed to deal with, but he'd shied away from talking about it with her. Sitting back in his chair, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, then said, "I know I spend more time at work than maybe I should, and it's hard on her. She's always known how difficult it is for me to call it quits and go home And when I'm home, I can't help but think of the things I could be doing if I was at work. That makes me really lousy company. It's not fair to her." He shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I'm just in the wrong line of business for a healthy relationship."
Samantha didn't disagree, but she couldn't quite fit the picture he gave of a wife and family waiting at home with the loneliness she sensed in him. She also noticed he'd spent more time discussing his wife's needs not being met than his. There had to be something more.
Instinctively knowing that would be a dangerous place to tread, she chose to continue his train of thought. "Perhaps she thought your attitude towards work would change once you had a family," she suggested. "How bad is it? Do you talk? What would it take to make her happy? What would it take to make you happy?" She stopped questioning, hating herself for sounding like some sort of therapist.
Jack looked down at the table. He and Maria had tried talking occasionally, but had always ended up in a screaming match, with her accusing him of refusing to compromise and him yelling at her that she didn't understand. As for what would make him happy, he honestly didn't know. He wanted some peace, maybe. A refuge. And something to fill the void he'd felt growing within himself over the past couple of years.
He loved his daughters, and was pretty sure he loved his wife, but when he was home, when he looked across the room at Maria, he had come to realise that he shared nothing with her but two children and an address. Over the past few years, they had drifted apart, and now it seemed that although they shared responsibilities, routine, and their two children, those things were all that bound them together. Turning his eyes towards Samantha, it suddenly dawned on him that on a daily basis, he shared more of his thoughts and feelings with her than with his wife. The thought made him uncomfortable.
He sighed, and turned his mind back to her question. What would make him happy? He looked at the woman sitting across from him, examined the way he felt, and suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to blurt out "You."
The impulse frightened him.
He reached over and picked up his menu. Looking at it, he commented, "Perhaps I should ask what would make you happy. I don't know about you, but I'm starved."
"Now there's a neat bit of avoidance!" Her lips curved slightly, then she sobered. She, too, had been going through a period of self-examination. Sitting back, she looked at him with dark, unreadable eyes and compared his life to her own. He was lonely, couldn't afford the ties of a normal relationship, and had no one in his personal life who really understood either what he did or the emotional toll it took upon him. It sounded surprisingly familiar. The feeling of completely understanding who he was and where he was in his life swept over her. "You know, Jack," she finally said, "I think in some respects we have a lot in common."
He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and something welcome, unfamiliar, and frightening began to make a place in his heart.
End Conversations - A: You Never Know...
Hope you enjoy. Comments, questions, etc., are always welcome. Thanks as always for the beta-ing from DM. KM, I'm sorry life got too busy. I'll miss your commentary and insight.
Conversations - A: You Never Know... By: Mariel
Jack Malone closed his phone and looked across the restaurant table to find Samantha looking at him with a slight frown on her face. Feeling caught, he hooked the cell phone back onto his belt. He'd said too much, or his tone had given him away. Mentally, he kicked himself for not being more careful.
"You don't seem terribly happy," she commented, before he could say anything.
Avoiding her knowing look, he still felt compelled to answer honestly. "I'm not." He placed his hands on the table in front of him. Looking down at them, he noted the gleam of the band on his left ring finger and wondered how much he could tell her. The thought was strange to him, because he never spoke of his marriage to anyone. He'd never even been tempted to. It seemed easier that way - or had, until now.
Now, sitting under the scrutiny of Samantha Spade's dark eyes, he felt an inexplicable urge to reveal more to her than he had to anyone else.
"You never talk about her," she said in a soft voice.
"No."
"Maybe you should."
Still reluctant to speak, he sat in silence for a moment. Special Agent Samantha Spade had joined his Missing Persons team two years ago. She'd seemed the perfect addition to his unit, and he'd never regretted his choice. To his surprise, however, they'd developed a rapport that at times transcended any working relationship he'd ever had. Now was one of those times.
He took a deep breath and finally said, "Talking about her would mean talking about my marriage. People don't necessarily want to hear about it." In a weak attempt to avoid what he was sure was coming, he added, "Besides, marriage is something you have to live in order to understand."
"Well," she offered, "I was married once. For a few months. If there's one thing it taught me, it was to recognize marital problems when I saw them."
He looked at her, wondering if he should pretend total suprise. It had been in her file, and he'd always wondered about it.
"A few months?" he asked.
She nodded and smiled slightly. "Yeah. I was young, stupid, and in love. Or thought I was. In love, I mean. Now I know differently, but then..." She shook her head. "He was really something."
Admiring the way her eyes warmed as they focussed on her memories, he couldn't help but smile. Without thinking he said, "He'd've had to have been something, to attract you."
She glanced at him in surprise. Feeling oddly flustered at what she couldn't help but take as a compliment, she blushed and looked away. "We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into," she explained, "and we were so totally different in so many ways, that when you put us together in the same space, day after day, with nothing in common but our bed times..." She grimaced. "It just didn't work."
"But you don't hate him." There was a certain amount of surprise in his voice.
She looked at him with wide, clear eyes. "No, why would I? It just didn't work out. We weren't incompatible on purpose, it just turned out that way." She smiled slightly. "He was an okay guy, just not the right one for me to be with."
He wondered what it would be like to be the right one for her. Oddly disconcerted by that thought, he forced himself to get back on topic. "Not all marriages have the potential to end so amicably."
She shrugged. "We didn't have kids or possessions to fight over. Maybe we were lucky to be so young. It made it easier to cut our losses and run." Raising her eyes to meet his, she tilted her head to one side slightly. "Something tells me your situation isn't so clear cut."
"No, it's not," he admitted, not feeling that she was either prying or being critical. Giving in to the urge to continue talking, he said, "We've been married more than ten years. We've got two beautiful girls-"
"That you adore," Samantha broke in, smiling.
He nodded. "That I adore."
Before he could continue, she observed bluntly, "But you're not happy, and I'm willing to bet your wife isn't, either."
She was right, and he felt a sudden release of tension when he admitted, "Yeah. Maria hasn't been happy for a while. Even this trip is bothering her. It's the second I've had to go on this month, and she's finding it more and more difficult to deal with my being away. She never used to. Lately..." his voice drifted off. Lately, everything seemed to be more difficult for her to deal with. He knew that was a sign that there were things they needed to deal with, but he'd shied away from talking about it with her. Sitting back in his chair, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, then said, "I know I spend more time at work than maybe I should, and it's hard on her. She's always known how difficult it is for me to call it quits and go home And when I'm home, I can't help but think of the things I could be doing if I was at work. That makes me really lousy company. It's not fair to her." He shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I'm just in the wrong line of business for a healthy relationship."
Samantha didn't disagree, but she couldn't quite fit the picture he gave of a wife and family waiting at home with the loneliness she sensed in him. She also noticed he'd spent more time discussing his wife's needs not being met than his. There had to be something more.
Instinctively knowing that would be a dangerous place to tread, she chose to continue his train of thought. "Perhaps she thought your attitude towards work would change once you had a family," she suggested. "How bad is it? Do you talk? What would it take to make her happy? What would it take to make you happy?" She stopped questioning, hating herself for sounding like some sort of therapist.
Jack looked down at the table. He and Maria had tried talking occasionally, but had always ended up in a screaming match, with her accusing him of refusing to compromise and him yelling at her that she didn't understand. As for what would make him happy, he honestly didn't know. He wanted some peace, maybe. A refuge. And something to fill the void he'd felt growing within himself over the past couple of years.
He loved his daughters, and was pretty sure he loved his wife, but when he was home, when he looked across the room at Maria, he had come to realise that he shared nothing with her but two children and an address. Over the past few years, they had drifted apart, and now it seemed that although they shared responsibilities, routine, and their two children, those things were all that bound them together. Turning his eyes towards Samantha, it suddenly dawned on him that on a daily basis, he shared more of his thoughts and feelings with her than with his wife. The thought made him uncomfortable.
He sighed, and turned his mind back to her question. What would make him happy? He looked at the woman sitting across from him, examined the way he felt, and suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to blurt out "You."
The impulse frightened him.
He reached over and picked up his menu. Looking at it, he commented, "Perhaps I should ask what would make you happy. I don't know about you, but I'm starved."
"Now there's a neat bit of avoidance!" Her lips curved slightly, then she sobered. She, too, had been going through a period of self-examination. Sitting back, she looked at him with dark, unreadable eyes and compared his life to her own. He was lonely, couldn't afford the ties of a normal relationship, and had no one in his personal life who really understood either what he did or the emotional toll it took upon him. It sounded surprisingly familiar. The feeling of completely understanding who he was and where he was in his life swept over her. "You know, Jack," she finally said, "I think in some respects we have a lot in common."
He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and something welcome, unfamiliar, and frightening began to make a place in his heart.
End Conversations - A: You Never Know...