TITLE: Red Skies Book III of III
AUTHOR: Jennifoofighter
RATING: R
KEYWORDS: MS, D/OC, J/OC, VM, and friendship all around.
SPOILERS/TIMELINE: This is a sequel to my previous fic, 'Til the Sky Turned Blue
ARCHIVE: It will be posting simultaneously at DestinedTo and
DISCLAIMER: Hank and Co. own everything Without a Trace. No copyright infringement is intended. Heaven knows if I had any control of the show I wouldn't have to write at all.
SUMMARY: Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailors delight.
XoXoXoX
"The family you come from isn't as important as the family you're going to have." Ring Lardner
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Chapter 1
XoXoXoX
"Just five more minutes," Martin mumbled as he squeezed the pillow tightly around his head to try and block out the sound of the alarm clock buzzing.
Sam rolled over and turned it off. "You get one snooze," she replied, kissing him on the shoulder before getting out of bed.
He had a smile on his face as he relaxed back into the bed for nine more minutes of slumber. He knew he was milking Sam's sympathy but he wasn't about to let all this pitying good will go to waste. She had been really attentive to his needs since his mother's funeral a few days ago and he liked all the extra attention.
He yawned and shifted in the bed. He was still exhausted from the funeral and it was taking time to feel rested again. He closed his eyes and as it had been for the last few days, his thoughts drifted back to his mother and the funeral. Just as he predicted he and his father didn't talk about the incident with his mother's glasses in the car but returned to their Fitzgerald method of talking around a subject.
XoX
Martin carried some of their luggage down the stairs and dropped them by the front door. He glanced out the window and saw that the sky was overcast. It looked like the weatherman's prediction of mid-morning rain showers was going to be accurate.
"Are you all set?" Victor asked.
He looked over to see his father sitting at the dining room table holding the newspaper and sipping his coffee. The remnants from their breakfast were still evident on the table, a coffee pot, his and Sam's cups and a plate of blueberry muffins. He nodded his head as he walked over. "Yeah. Sam's just making sure the kids didn't leave anything behind." He pulled out a chair and sat down. He motioned to the paper and asked, "How did the Wizards do last night?"
"They won but it was close," Victor replied. He turned the page of the paper and Martin could see his father's eyes scanning the articles with clinical study. "It's a shame they don't let Lethem play more. I know he's still a rookie but he has strong skills."
"I guess they just want to give him more time to prove himself," Martin replied as he reached over and took the world news section of the paper. "Although I did read in last month's Sports Illustrated that Jordan said that the team is still trying to recover from losing Hawley to the Lakers."
"I can understand that," Victor idly commented, his eyes still focused on the paper. "It's hard for a team to recover from losing such a key player. He was the force that kept the momentum going. It's going to be difficult for them to find their groove again."
Martin nodded his head and reached for a muffin. Not so much because he was hungry but more so wanting to have something to occupy his hands. "It was a big loss but there are still other players on the team," he stole a glance at his father and saw that while he was still staring at the paper his eyes were fixed, no longer reading, "and they want to keep playing. I hope they are able to pull it together and keep going."
Victor cleared his throat and with a heavy sad sigh he replied, "I hope so too," before quickly turning the page and continuing to read. His signal that it was all he was going to say about the subject they weren't talking about. He coughed awkwardly and said, "It looks like the Knicks did well."
Martin broke the top off of the muffin and in his most casual tone said, "Maybe you can come up next month when the Wizards play the Knicks," He bit into the fluffy but dense pastry and between chews said, "I'm pretty sure I can get us some courtside tickets."
Victor lowered his paper and folded it, sliding the sports section towards him. "Maybe."
XoX
He was about eight minutes into his snooze time when he heard small feet running down the hallway, the bedroom door swing open, and then he was promptly attacked by two pairs of small arms.
"Daddy, time to wake up!" Grace and Nate shouted as they jumped up and down next to his side of the bed. They grabbed the pillow off his head and shouted, "Get up!"
With a smile on his face he sat up and growled at the kids, "Arrgghh!" as he pulled Nate up and playful tossed him onto Sam's side of the bed. The little boy tumbled over, laughing hysterically as Martin reached over to grab Gracie next. His daughter squealed with delight as he pulled her onto the bed and became tickling her. "But I don't want to get up."
"Mom said," she tried replying between fits of laughter, "Mom said you have to!"
He gave her one final tickle before he sighed and replied, "Oh-kay…"
The kids, feeling victorious in that their task was completed, rolled off the bed and ran down the hall announcing that dad was awake.
A short while later, freshly showered and dressed for work, he walked into the kitchen carefully stepping over Milo on his way. The dog was older and didn't have the pep he used to but he still insisted on following the family pack to whatever room they congregated. He scratched the dog behind the ears and was rewarded with a wagging tail before he walked over to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee.
He glanced over to see Sam already wearing her ubiquitous black slacks and jacket, Grace in her school uniform and Nate was wearing an outfit that he clearly designed entirely on his own. He was wearing his favorite green t-shirt with the current iconic cartoon character and red sweatpants that were tucked into his brown leather cowboy boots that Sam's mom had given him last Christmas. He pulled his travel mug out of the cabinet and whispered, "What's up with Nate's outfit?"
She restrained a laugh at their son's expense and said, "He said he wanted to pick out his own clothes like a big boy." They both leaned against the counter and watched the kids eat their breakfast. Nate swung his boots back and forth as he ate his cereal, a big grin on his face. "I figured since he is with Frances today I will let her worry about whether or not he should change." She tilted her head towards him and grinned. "Clearly he has your fashion sense."
"Ha, ha," he deadpanned, stirring creamer into his coffee. "Do you want to head in together?"
"Can't," she replied, tilting her head apologetically. "Paul's on his way here to pick me up and we're heading out to Queens to do an interview."
"Alright, then I am going to head in," he replied, kissing her on the lips. "That paperwork isn't going to get filed by itself."
"My husband, saving the world one triplicate form at a time," she quipped.
He kissed both the kids goodbye and left for the office. He stopped at a Starbucks near the building and casually sipped his coffee, looking forward to a hopefully slow day of just doing paperwork catch-up. When he arrived on his floor he said good mornings to Raina and Jessica. Normally they would respond in kind but on this particular morning they both huffed and mumbled something to each other as he walked past. He stopped and was about to ask why they were giving him the cold shoulder when Dawson appeared from out of nowhere and placed his hand on his back, steering him towards his office.
"What's going on?" Martin asked, worriedly glancing at Nick sitting at his desk shaking his head at him.
"I'll tell you in your office," Dawson replied as they reached his door and went inside.
Martin dropped his briefcase on his desk and plopped down in his chair. "Okay, we're here. What's up with everyone this morning?"
Dawson paled and held up a magazine that Martin hadn't noticed him holding earlier. It was one of those weekly tabloid magazines that Samantha liked flipping through while in line at the supermarket. "It's about this," he replied as he tossed the magazine on his desk.
He picked it up and his heart just about stopped beating when he read the cover. "Kelly Grant Pregnancy Scandal" On the cover was a stock photo of Kelly attending an event but in the lower right corner there was a telephoto picture of him and Kelly sitting at the café. Under the photo in smaller font it read, "Her secret love affair exposed" and "Is Kelly pregnant?"
Martin's pulse quickened. "Oh shit."
"Look, I know it's not my place but is it true?"
He shot a look at his junior agent. "No, of course not." A look of skepticism crossed Dawson's face but he nodded his head so Martin dropped the magazine on top of the desk. "You know you can't believe everything you read in these trashy rags."
"Yeah, yeah, I know…" Dawson trailed off as he sat down opposite him. He released a heavy sigh and added, "I think I should warn you that this is just the tip of the iceberg. There is a lot of stuff being posted on the net and so far your actual name hasn't been mentioned but it's only a matter of time. In a few hours the whole world is going to know who you are."
Martin leaned forward and placed both his elbows on his desk, resting his head in his hands. "I'm not so much worried about the world as one blonde woman." He needed to do damage control. Tell her before she found out from anyone else. He looked up and said, "Well, thanks for telling me."
Dawson opened his mouth to say something when the door to the office swung open and Sam appeared.
He was a dead man. There was no other way to put it.
Still sitting in the chair, Dawson's posture stiffened up, his eyes darting back and forth between them. Being a wise man, he stood up to leave, quietly whispering to Martin, "May God have mercy on your soul." He quickly started to the door, mumbling, "I'm just going to get…yeah, I'll see you later." He walked out, carefully maneuvering past Sam who was so busy staring white-hot daggers at Martin that she didn't acknowledge Dawson's exit.
He watched as Sam coolly stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She glanced at him, her eyes still hard, before closing the blinds to his office. As the slits started to close he could see his entire team staring at him, looks of concern and morbid curiosity on their faces before their view was obstructed by the vinyl blinds. When she was done, Sam turned and walked slowly to his desk and sat down in the chair vacated by Dawson.
He gulped. "Honey I can explain. This is a total misunderstanding."
She bit her lip and he waited for her to yell or scream or even possibly pull out her weapon and shoot him when she did something completely unexpected and far more scary: she started crying.
