Authors Note: First of all thanks to DianeM, beta extraordinaire, who even found time at this time of year to take a look at this fic. All mistakes are my own. I didn't intend this fic to go exactly how it did. I knew I wanted to write a J/S Christmas story and started typing and this is the result. It's set after Samantha had Finn but before Better Angels. It's not the ball of fluff I'd thought I was going to write and there's a slight crossover element which was completely unintentional. I'd never before quite understood what people meant by the story taking on a life of its own but now I do. Anyway, Merry Christmas and enjoy!
His breath was mist like, freezing in the cold December air. Jack walked along the street, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, the collar of his coat pulled up tight around his neck. He was cold but not yet cold enough to find refuge in a coffee house or make his way back to his car. The streets were bustling, full of people even at this late hour; it was Christmas time. He was surrounded by people; he could hear the strain of a Christmas carol from a brass band up ahead on the corner that was raising money for charity. There were lights in all the shop windows, vibrant displays promising Christmas cheer. He was surrounded by people and the best decorations New York could buy, a familiar tune and yet he'd never felt more alone or more miserable.
It was a myth that suicide rates rose at Christmas, because they actually went down, but depression rates soared. Christmas was a time for family, a time when you wanted to be with the ones you love. If you couldn't be with them there seemed to be no point to the holiday, it would just be another day, a depressing thought in itself. He had planned to fly to Chicago to see his daughters. He'd had the time off all cleared and had even mentally prepared himself to deal with Maria, the joy that seeing his daughters would bring him, even with Hannah's current attitude towards him, far eclipsing the anger, sadness, regret and irritation that Maria would bring out in him. However, an early winter blizzard had closed both Chicago airports, and they probably wouldn't open for a couple of days. It was too late to make alternate plans, though what they could be he had no idea. The only other person he wished he could spend this time of year with was Samantha. Now time had passed, his marriage had failed, his divorce finalized, he could freely admit, if only to himself, that he loved her, he'd always loved her. He'd tried to do the right thing and fight for his marriage without realizing that it wasn't the right thing at all, not for anybody. He'd truly messed up there and he could never undo the damage he caused or make it right again.
Jack looked up at the night sky, the stars obscured by the light pollution in the area. If he could see a star, if he could have a wish, if Santa Claus brought him one gift this year, it would be the gift to make things right. Suddenly he felt something hard impact on his shoulder. Jack spun round.
"Sorry mister," a young boy shouted. Jack looked over; his feet had carried him to Central Park. There had been no actual snow this year so the city had invested a small fortune in creating a winter wonderland. He'd been hit on the back by an erstwhile snowball. He shook his head. The boy should be more careful about where he was aiming and what would happen if he missed his target, but he didn't have it in him to scold him, he looked so happy.
Jack wandered further into Central Park over towards the skating rink that had been set up at the beginning of the month. He'd come here once with Samantha, throwing caution to the wind. It had been at the giddy heights of their affair. He hadn't skated in years and had kept falling down. Samantha had delighted in laughing at his lack of grace, even though she hadn't been much better. He leaned on the railing encircling the rink and looked over at the ice; his eyes were drawn to a couple much like they had been, laughing, radiant, without a care in the world.
"Agent Malone." Jack started at the voice and turned round.
"Detective Taylor," Jack returned the greeting, turning back to look at the ice. Mac moved to the left of him and mirrored Jack's pose. "What brings you to Central Park on Christmas Eve?"
"I'm here with a friend," Mac replied, "Yourself?"
"I'm just out for a stroll," Jack said in a wry tone of voice. They stood there in silence for a long moment. They didn't know each other that well. A couple of their cases had overlapped on occasion and after the initial bumping of heads, they'd worked them as joint cases. Both he and Mac were too stubborn to give up on a case once they'd started it and no amount of arguing on either side had succeeded in securing the case completely for either department.
"Mac?" Both Jack and Mac looked up at the woman standing there, a pair of skates dangling from each hand, her eyebrow raised in question. Jack recognized her as a colleague of Mac's.
"Your friend?" Jack's own eyebrow went up in amusement. Mac didn't say a word and his expression didn't shift at all; he must make an excellent poker player. Jack could tell that he'd caught the innuendo loaded in his statement and he made no move to deny it.
"Yes," Mac said, smiling slightly. "Happy Christmas, Agent Malone." Jack watched as the two detectives walked over to the rink side and pulled on the rented skates. They then took to the ice. Mac went quite slowly but appeared steady; Stella went a little faster and did a few fancy moves with apparent ease. They both obviously had good balance. Watching them, just like watching the couple earlier, made him think of Sam. Jack wondered how they managed their relationship. They were colleagues and worked together and he was pretty sure that the NYPD must have a similar rule in place as the FBI's Section 23. Still, somehow they made it work; perhaps they hid it from everybody. That wouldn't work forever, though, he knew that. If you wanted permanence, a proper relationship, marriage, you couldn't hide. He'd gone over all the angles before, back when he sometimes wondered what a future he could have, before the harsh bite of reality made itself known.
It's not like it could happen now anyway, far too much water under the bridge. Sam, Samantha he corrected himself, had moved on. She was a different person now, a mother. He'd noticed a clear difference in how she approached situations. At the core she was still the same caring person she'd always been, but there was a grounded edge to her now, one that didn't welcome complications and he'd always been a complication. Christmas was a time for regrets, before the resolutions of the New Year.
"What if I don't want to regret it?" Jack muttered to himself.
"Still here," Mac remarked. Jack turned around. Mac had his arm looped round Stella's waist, both of them flushed from the exertion and the cold.
"Yeah," Jack said simply, envious of their apparent happiness. All around he was reminded of what he didn't, couldn't have. Mac narrowed his eyes and whispered something to Stella, who then disappeared.
"I used to hate Christmas," Mac began. "After the towers came down and Claire died, I hated anything that reminded me of her; she'd always loved this season. Christmas makes you want to be with the ones you love and when they're no longer around, it takes the joy out of everything,"
"I'm sorry," Jack said uncomfortably.
"Don't be," Mac told him, "It's different now, though I didn't think it ever could be. I only saw the risks, the problems, and I lost sight of what was important, the rewards. You're missing someone who is still here, and there's no need for that."
"What are you talking about?" Jack said guardedly. Mac looked at him piercingly.
"Worst kept secret of the Bureau, Agent Malone."
Jack snorted. He wasn't altogether surprised. After OPR had visited, it had pretty much become common knowledge somehow, although he didn't know it had reached other agencies. He knew he should be horrified, but he thought it was quite amusing that people didn't have anything better to do but pass gossip around like that. It wasn't even as if it had been a proper scandal. It had only come out after the fact; they had been reasonably discreet.
"If you don't give it a try you'll never know," Mac said glancing back towards Stella, who was waiting for him. "It was the best thing I ever did. Though I would never have done it if I hadn't been given a push by somebody I hardly knew. I guess I'm just passing the favour on." Jack nodded, unsure of what to say in response. "Merry Christmas, Agent Malone," Mac said and started walking towards Stella.
"It's Jack," Jack called after him. Mac turned and nodded.
"Then it's Mac," Mac said. Jack nodded and turned back to the rink, though he wasn't focusing on the skaters anymore. Instead he was thinking over what Mac had said. Could he be right? Was it worth the risk? What if Sam didn't feel the same? They had managed to keep a good working relationship throughout and he didn't want that to change now with Medina looking for a reason to fire him. He wondered how he'd feel if he never told her the truth of how he felt, and the very thought made him feel ill. No, he couldn't face that. He had to tell her, so why not now? Decision made, Jack strode with purpose out of Central Park and back along the streets towards his car. He was halfway there when his resolve broke. He couldn't just turn up at her apartment on Christmas Eve. Then it came to him, what he could do.
Samantha stirred at the sound of a knock on her door. She'd been dozing on the couch with the TV turned down low so as not to wake Finn, and without being able to hear what they were saying it had failed to attract much interest. Besides the movie was on every Christmas and she'd seen it half a dozen times before. Quickly, before the visitor could knock any louder, she made her way to the door and looked through the peephole. When she saw who it was, she could have been knocked over with a feather. It was Jack. Almost on autopilot she pulled back the chain and let him in.
"Finn's asleep," she whispered. Jack nodded and shifted uncomfortably for a few moments until Samantha couldn't take it anymore. "Something I can do for you, Jack?"
"I brought gifts," Jack said nervously, his mouth dry. What had seemed so easy and possible on the drive over now seemed to be completely undoable. Jack handed Samantha a bag, "For Finn." Samantha looked in the bag and appraised Jack's choices. They weren't bad at all, very thoughtful actually.
"Thank you," Sam said. "Can I get anything, you want to sit down?" she gestured towards the couch.
"Yeah, thanks," Jack shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of the couch before taking his seat. Sam sat down next to him. "I realized something," Jack started hesitantly, sending darting glances towards Sam. Her face was revealing nothing; he was on his own here. "I realized that I didn't want to go another year and have the same regrets."
"What are you trying to say, Jack?" Sam asked neutrally. She thought - no, she hoped – that her guess was right. It was the only thing that made sense, but she wasn't going to make this easy for him. He had to be the one to say it.
"When Finn was born I promised to be there for you. I want to make good on that promise," Jack said, then shook his head. "No, it's more than that. I want there to be an 'us' again. When we were together I found it easy to dream of a future with you. I know a lot has happened and I've messed up more times than I care to think about, but I want a chance. Please, Sam, I know I don't deserve another chance but I love you, I've always loved you and . . ." Jack tapered off in anguish, well aware that he'd just babbled. He hadn't known how to say it and he'd just blurted it all out.
Sam was stunned; she was used to having conversations that had double meanings with Jack, the master of never saying exactly what he meant. Regardless, they'd been close enough once that she'd understood him. This was a new side to Jack, painfully honest and open; she didn't think she'd ever seen him like this. However, she supposed with what he'd been through it wasn't that big a surprise, his walls had all been torn down. It had been a long few years. Sam suddenly became aware that Jack was waiting on a response and she'd been lost in thought too long.
"Jack, you know how long I've waited for you to say something like that," Sam said. Jack had been studying his shoes, but his neck snapped up at that. He couldn't believe it. He was definitely going to have to give Mac Taylor a little more credit; he'd been right, thank God he'd been right. "But things will have to be different, things are different," Sam warned. Jack nodded reverently. He understood that. Sam smiled at him and moved closer towards him. "We're going by my rules now." Jack nodded, that was only fair. She'd fit in with him last time, but now she had other responsibilities and concerns and it was his turn to fit in. "My rules say that a declaration like that needs to be sealed."
"I think I can manage that," Jack said as he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning in for a long, slow kiss. It was shaping up to be a very merry Christmas after all.
Authors Note: Ok this went through several versions as Mac insisted on being in the fic. In one I had Jack and Mac having a conversation and Jack realizing a few things. I couldn't really make that work as they don't know each other well enough. Then I drew upon Charles Dickens 'A Christmas Carol' but that was just too weird. Then I just put Mac in a walk-on role. He said hello and went skating but then he came back and did the conversation I'd initially scrapped at the beginning. Still I think I managed to introduce it better there than it would have been at the beginning. I hope you enjoyed and Merry Christmas.