"Beginnings"

Author's Note: This is just a little bit of fluff fiction that I felt compelled to write as I wait not so patiently for S3 of "Without a Trace". It picks up from Martin and Samantha's last scene in end of S2's finale, "Bait". CBS and Bruckheimer owns everything WAT-related.

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Martin followed Samantha into the taxi and slid into the seat next to her as she told the driver the address. Their ride began for the most part in simple, if not awkward, silence.

But inside, Samantha was a nervous wreck. She couldn't believe she'd been so bold. The words had just slipped out. But that fact didn't make them wrong, and she knew she didn't regret them. Uneasy thoughts raced through her mind, 'Oh-- what if he'd said 'no',' she asked herself, 'or even worse, gave me a pitying look…'

She inhaled deeply, attempting to calm and center herself. For too damn long she'd been over thinking everything in her life instead of just giving in to possibilities. Instead of just seeing what was right in front of her. She'd woefully over thought the entire affair with Jack and the hole that it had eaten inside her had nearly destroyed her. For a time, she had become needy, weak and selfish and as a result, it had spawned feelings of self-loathing and disgust.

She had detested herself for clinging to something that her heart knew was the worst thing in the world for her. She was smarter than that damn it, and she had failed herself. She had become that 'other woman', the one that she had hated in more than one disastrous relationship in her past.

But, tonight it seemed, finally, for once her heart spoke out and quelled her brain. She leaned against the back seat, her gaze on the seat in front of her. This felt right. It really did. She sighed softly.

She then became acutely aware that he was looking at her, silently questioning if this is what she really wanted – wondering if her invitation had been one that she wasn't now regretting. She knew her timing certainly wasn't the greatest, what with Jack all set to leave for Chicago. She knew how it had to look. She didn't want Martin to think he was a replacement or that her invitation was a obvious attempt to keep from being alone. She wanted him to know the truth.

Her calm restored, she finally gathered the nerve and turned to look at him, unable to hide the smile sweeping across her face. He had indeed been watching her, and he responded by smiling widely in return. She noticed he seemed a little relieved.

She exhaled, a last attempt to purge any remaining nervous feelings, and pushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, trying not to trip over words that were forming in her mouth, "Thank you, again, for saving my life."

"You're welcome. Again," he chuckled.

Samantha smiled. "And, I'm glad…. You know, glad that you decided to come with me."

Martin's smile softened a bit, and he started to reply, but she raised her hand to his lips to silence him, desperate for him to hear her. "It's just," she paused, again rousing her courage, "I think I know what you're thinking, Martin, and before, this goes any further, it's important that you know that--- that 'this'" she gestured to herself and then to Martin, "'this' has nothing to do with Jack. I want to to make that very… very clear."

His brows furrowed a bit at the mention of Jack's name, but he said nothing as she continued, "It's just I've been afraid to let anyone in again, afraid of doing everything wrong, afraid of trusting, afraid of…" She stopped, looked away for a moment, watching the bursts of light as they drove along the lighted sidewalks. "Just-- afraid."

"Martin--," she turned to look at him again, "I'm just really glad I stopped being afraid for once in a long time, and I'm really glad you decided to come."

He smiled that captivating smile of his and felt electricity flow throughout her body. The moment had energized her, but it wasn't without concern. What if he shot her down? She ignored the possibility, and decided that even if he did, she had done the right thing in baring her feelings to him. She had resolved that Samantha Spade wasn't going to run scared anymore.

"Sam, I can't say I wasn't a little surprised, and yeah--- at first, I was a little worried about 'why',… but I'm really glad you asked me to come with you." His expression grew more serious, "I think you know how I've felt about you—for a while now…" Then, he laughed abruptly, feeling suddenly awkward, almost like he was a teenager again.

He shook his head, gazed at her and smiled again. "I like spending time with you, Sam—talking to you, listening to you…" He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, pulling himself a little closer to her, "and… holding you is pretty nice too". A slight smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. He reached out with his right hand, lightly grazing her cheek with his thumb.

She felt as if she couldn't catch her breath. His features were once again intense and the moment between them kept building. She shut her eyes, unable to focus, unable to breathe. All she could do was feel. His warm breath mingled with her hair and she felt him shift beside her, moving his hands to cradle her face. She felt the first intoxicating contact of his lips on her skin, so soft, so sweet. They first fell on her cheek, then her jaw line near her ear, traveling next to her neck and finally on her own lips.

They finally broke the kiss only to find that the cab was idling at the curb outside her apartment building. Sam laughed, fumbled with her purse and passed up the fare to the grinning driver. Martin opened the door and slid out of the cab. Sam followed, and as she started to lead the way toward her building, he grasped her hand and pulled her back to face him. "To new beginnings." He lowered his lips once again to hers.

He broke the kiss and looked at her once again. She nodded, smiling. Her voice hovered above a breathless whisper, "Yes. To new beginnings."

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