This picks up where 2:1 The Bus left off, and then merges with another key smarty moment so spoilers for season 2. This had been sitting on my computer gathering dust (so to speak) and I finally got round to finishing it. It's Sam/Martin which is not what I usually write but watching these episodes inspired me. Besides, Jack's not going anywhere so...

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Without a Trace except my DVDs and my imagination but I would love to! R&R please! Let me know what you think. Okay enough rambling. Enjoy.

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"Martin?" Samantha called after her colleague's retreating figure.

"Umm." He replied, turning round to look at her.

"You know you said, about, getting a drink sometime?"

"Yeah?"

"Well I could really use a drink."

"Nothing worse than a beautiful woman drinking alone."

"No." She murmured, wiping her eyes. Martin inclined his head, gesturing towards the elevator and Sam grabbed her coat and purse from her desk and walked across the deserted bullpen to where he stood waiting. They made their way down the corridor together, Martin pushing the button for the elevator, and as they went inside his hand moved subconsciously to Samantha's back.

The doors opened and they stepped out into the empty lobby. Once again as the two FBI agents made their way out into the cold evening light, Martin placed his hand on Sam's back, only this time she acknowledged its presence with a smile. He felt so comfortable with her, and especially glad that she had decided to open up to him.

Samantha Spade the FBI agent was strong and always kept her emotions in check; it was a rare thing indeed for anyone to be allowed to get so close, and so for this Martin was grateful. Ever since he had first laid eyes on her, first seen her at work, he had longed to get just a glimpse of the other side of Samantha, the side she kept locked away and hidden, the side that she never wanted to share. But now Sam had decided to let people in, slowly and carefully of course, and it was Martin who she had chosen to share her dark secrets with.

They stopped in the doorway and while Martin clocked the two of them out of the building, Sam pulled on her coat.

"So where d'you wanna go?" She asked as they exited the FBI headquarters and headed out into the street.

"There's that new bar round the corner, s'posed to be quite good." Martin answered. "Shall we check it out?"

"Sounds great." replied Samantha. The November chill was evident in the air, and they pulled their coats around themselves as they set off along the pavement. Breath cloudy in the air, Sam said:

"I'm glad those kids were ok." Martin glanced sideways at her.

"Yeah, Danny said they were shaken up but unharmed." He paused before continuing. "Must've been a pretty tough case to come back to after-" his voice trailed off.

"I guess, but you just, you know, have to get back in there." Sam replied and, feeling his eyes on her went on "You agree with Jack don't you? You think I came back too soon!"

"No Sam I don't. It's just..."

"Just what Martin? Just the fact that I've been shot meant I handled the case badly? Is that what you think?" Samantha had stopped walking now and was glaring at Martin intently.

"No Sam you know that's not what I think. I was there in the park with you during that shooting remember? And if I had been in your position I would have done exactly the same thing." He said, also standing still facing her. "And that's exactly what I told Jack." He added as an afterthought.

Samantha had opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind so closed it, then opened it again and said: "Oh." Then she said "I'm sorry Martin, I don't know why I went off on one like that at you." She dropped her gaze. "I'm so sorry." She repeated. Martin stared at her for a moment, before reaching out a hand and touching Samantha's arm. She looked up and saw concern and understanding etched in his pale face. Sam was about to say something when an icy breeze whistled down the street, making her shiver.

"Come on let's get to that bar." Martin said quietly. "It's freezing out here." They set off again and as they walked Martin slipped his arm around Sam's shoulders, and she gratefully moved in closer to him.

The Madison Bar was only two blocks away from the office so, not surprisingly, when Martin and Sam entered they spotted a number of other Bureau employees sitting at the bar or huddled round tables. They chose a small table in one corner and while Martin went over to the bar to order their drinks, Samantha slipped her coat off her shoulders and draped it round the back of her chair before sitting down. She swept her hair out of her face and sat staring at her interlocked fingers on the table, waiting for Martin to come back. Within a couple of minutes he had returned carrying a glass of white wine for Sam and a beer for himself. Setting the glasses down on the surface between them, Martin took the seat opposite Sam.

They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes before Martin spoke up:

"Today was tough- on all of us."

"So you don't think-"

"No I don't think you weren't ready to come back, you acted the same today as you would have done before the shooting." Martin continued. "Right, Sam?"

"Yeah, no of course." Samantha answered. She paused, then went on. "It's just, I can't help but think that maybe, you know, I might have been..." she trailed off, staring down at her glass.

"Sam, you can't expect to go through what you've been through and just get back to your old self straight away. It's going to take time, but I know that you have the strength to do it, I really do." Martin said, and as if to show Sam how much he believed in her, he reached out his hand and took hers. The effect of Martin's words combined with his touch made Sam's heart jump, and she looked up at him and smiled.

She felt her cheeks flush as he returned the smile, and he squeezed her hand. Only after several seconds had passed did Martin remove his hand from on top of hers. He reached, instead, for his beer and took a long swig, while Samantha sipped her wine, her eyes never leaving his face. Martin put his glass back on the table and leaned back in his chair, still watching Samantha intently, with a pleasant smile on his lips. Sam finished drinking and cradled the glass in her hands.