A/N: Thanks to Mariel for her patience and help for thischapter as I seem to be working though some personal issues that unexpectantly came out of the subject matter. But it's all forgood, really... I was going to post later this week, but something in my head said to do it on Anthony LaPaglia's birthday, so, why not?... Thanks to all who took the time to review the first chapter, it's really appreciated!


Chapter Two

Bits and Pieces

The mountain of boxes was still stacked against a wall in the living room. Jack, Hanna and Kate looked at them with some apprehension. Something needed to be done. They'd all been avoiding the boxes for over a week ago now. Jack was frankly tired of them; they couldn't be ignored forever.

"These have been here long enough. If you want, I can sort through them-" Jack began, rubbing his chin.

"No," Hanna said forcibly. "I don't want to throw anything out."

"Are you sure? There are a lot of clothes and there are a number of charities that could make good use of them," Jack pointed out.

"They're not just any old clothes; they're Mom's," Hanna responded, folding her arms against her chest.

"Yeah," agreed Kate. "Mommy's."

Jack shook his head. "I just don't know where we're going to put them all." Their storage space was already full up, and there was more to come.

Hanna was determined. "We'll find room, and Grandma and Grandpa said they'd look after anything that we couldn't store."

Jack looked sideways at his eldest daughter, noticing the familiar stubbornness that she got from both sides of the family. They must have been talking about it at the funeral. His parents-in-law would do anything their granddaughters asked them to. They may even have suggested it to the girls themselves.

There were a couple of boxes with Maria's personal belongings that he'd despondently packed himself. He pointed them out. "Those two can definitely stay, but we don't have space for all the others, no matter what you think. Hanna, call your grandparents and ask them to help out with the rest of the boxes. You're both back at school next week so I want them cleared, okay? I have some work to do." He left them to it, realizing later that he had almost been issuing orders like he did at work.

Jack sighed. He had to go through Maria's accounts and credit cards before going to the bank the next morning, armed with the death certificate.

The little things that remain after someone dies and need to be taken care of; it was no walk in the park.

Xx--

On their last weekend before going back to school, Hanna and Kate decided they wanted to hang their hand-crafted mobiles from the ceiling. Feeling the weight of the constructed pieces, Jack decided a simple tack wouldn't cut it, and went to find some hooks.

He went to the drawer in the kitchen; the one with all the odd bits and pieces that always ended up being kept somewhere, rather than thrown away. He knew he had some hooks somewhere, but where exactly... It wasn't the first time Jack cursed that he didn't have a decent set of tools or a toolbox. Not that he'd know how to use them, precisely, but he wasn't completely useless as a handyman. It was just that he had never been home enough to find time to do things. Disassembling and cleaning a gun, that was easy; he'd learnt that early on from his father. Car engines -he'd learnt some of that in the military. But day-to-day fixing was not his best or favorite activity.

Shifting an old roll of duct tape to find another hook, his eyes alighted on something.

A key.

There were other keys in there, but this one had a small dot of liquid paper on it. Jack picked it up. The once white dot was discolored and slightly chipped, as was the dot on the other side. Once upon a time the dots had made for easy identification amongst his other keys.

He thought he'd given it back.

The key to Samantha's apartment.

How the hell…? He stood there, trying to remember how, when and why on earth he still had it.

He considered throwing it out. But that wouldn't be the right thing to do.

Then, the next question was, how was he going to return it and worse –should he even do it? He could just leave it where he found it. And always know it was there.

Surely, she must have figured out that he still had it. If she did, she'd probably think he was keeping it for old times' sake.

All this bother for an old key.

He clutched it tightly in his hand, and continued his rifling through the drawer. He located another small hook and, after glancing once more at the key, he pocketed it.

He'd worry about it later.

Xx—

Early Monday morning and Jack escorted his daughters to their school. He'd arranged for some of their old friends to meet up to make the transition easier. Hanna wasn't too bothered, but Kate was anxious and a little clingy. Taking them to school had been more of Maria's job, as was picking them up; that had been pointed out to him quite nicely during the deposition. He'd made arrangements as he couldn't pick them up everyday when he returned to work.

"I don't want to go back to school. I want to stay home with you," Hanna said, her jaw set, eyes practically pleading at she looked up at Jack, herhand tightly grasping his.

He was surprised at the admission; it was more the sort of thing he'd expect Kate to say. "There's not a lot of choice in the matter I'm afraid, and look, your friends are here." Isabelle and Bella were standing to one side, a look of curiosity on their faces; almost pity on their mothers'. The girls hadn't wanted to see any of their old friends, preferring each other's company in the past weeks. But now Kate was edging slowly away from Jack and towards a girl that Jack recognized as being the daughter of a lawyer at Maria's old firm.

A teacher came to take all the girls off to their various classes. Jack kissed them both and waved as his daughters went down the hallway. Then he found himself with the mothers, and was already planning his escape; he knew what any conversation was going to be about.

"Oh, you poor thing. How's it going for you? Are you managing?" asked Bella's mother, a look of genuine concern on her face.

"I'm managing very well, thank you," Jack politely replied, being reminded of the platitudes from the funeral.

"It must be very difficult for you. It's hard for a man to raise two girls by himself," said Isabelle's mother.

Bella's mother nodded her head in agreement. "It must have been a tough few weeks.'

Jack shrugged; he had enjoyed his time with them, all things considered.

"Lovely lady, your wife," Bella's mother said.

Ex-wife… Jack found he was clenching his jaw.

"It must have been hard for her to take that job in Chicago…"

He clenched it again. It hadn't been hard for her at all.

He'd had enough; they'd be offering to bring over meals next. "I'm sorry, ladies, I really must go," Jack said, backing away hastily and mentally vowing to never allow himself to be trapped by any of the women around there again.

Isabelle's mother and Bella's mother watched him go.

"He's taking it very well, don't you think?" one said to the other.

Xx—

That night, after tucking the girls in their beds, Jack found himself staring at a full bottle of whisky on the kitchen counter. He dearly wanted to lose himself in the flavor, feel the warmth slide down his throat, but he'd made a pact with himself not to.

But drinking himself into a stupor would be too easy. The girls needed him, and he needed to be there for them. Drinking by himself was no longer an option.

But tonight was tempting. He stared at the rings in his hand; Maria's engagement ring and wedding band. Eighteen karat gold and diamonds, warm to touch.

He placed them on the counter, and stared at them again, memories washing over him.

God, he'd been so much in love. He'd hardly known what had hit him.

Until he'd met Samantha, all those years later, and fallen in love again, deeply and irretrievably. A symptom of a slowly failing marriage, he supposed.

And now that was in the past, and he scarcely knew that man anymore.

He'd opened Maria's jewelry box, and going through it, had remembered the various pieces he'd given to her. He also recognized the guilt pieces; the ones given for not being there, emotionally, or physically. He'd never gone overboard, just bought seemingly thoughtful things, given from time to time. But there had always been a reason. Remembering that only added to his total feeling of hopelessness.

What if he hadn't been so consumed with his work? What if he had not let it get to him, and had halted that downward spiral that had ultimately destroyed his marriage and his life as he'd then known it? Maybe if he had been stronger, less selfish as a man, then maybe Maria would still be alive. One way or another.

That bottle was looking more and more appealing; something to exorcize his demons.

But he was resolved, and he put the bottle in a cupboard.

Picking the rings up, he returned them to the jewelry box. Then he put the box high up in the wardrobe, planning to give the jewelry to the girls when they were older and more responsible. They could sort it all out then.

Xx—

Samantha stared at the empty bottle.

It must have evaporated. There was no other explanation.

She couldn't have drunk that bottle of red all by herself.

But the nearly empty wine glass in her hand told a different story

It had taken her some time, and she had to admit she was quite impressed with herself. She slowly made her way to the bathroom to look at her tongue in the mirror. She almost laughed out loud; enjoying the dark color her tongue had been stained.

Another evening alone.

Fine.

Why the hell not?

She deserved it and it served her right.

She didn't want to look at her reflection too closely. Thoughts were beginning to surface again.

If I hadn't slept with Jack then Maria wouldn't have left him then she wouldn't have had the car crash in Chicago and Jack wouldn't have his daughters with him then…maybe I shouldn't have told Maria I was sorry as it didn't help matters or anything…if I hadn't fallen in love with Jack… if I didn't love him still…

She blinked at her mirror image.

For such a small word, 'if' carried a lot of consequences.

Some things were best left locked away, even from oneself.

She rubbed her temple as the thoughts muddled, her train of thought derailing.

He'd be back next week. Just having his solid presence around counted for a lot more than she'd ever realized.

Maria alive and Jack by himself, but miserable without his daughters; Maria dead and Jack with his daughters, which should make him happy, but made him further apart from her than ever; off limits and out of bounds. The past and the present were colliding. Like the headache that Samantha was going to have if she didn't drink a lot of water and take something for it.

She decided to get ready for bed, and was determined to scrub that stain off her tongue, with a full tube of toothpaste, if necessary.

Xx--

Dr. Lisa Harris looked up, surprised at her early morning visitor. "That's odd Jack, I thought you weren't coming back until next week."

"Do I look like I'm dressed for work?" he asked, sitting himself down in a chair.

She smiled. "I admit the casual look should have been a give-away, but I never can tell with you guys. It's good to see you again. How are the girls?"

"As well as can be expected," Jack replied. The question was beginning to be a common one asked, as was his answer. "They're fitting back into school. A lot of their old friends are still there, which is good." And their mothers, God help me…

"How about you?"

"What about me?" he answered, crossing his legs.

"How are you handling things? It must be a… difficult situation for you."

"I guess I'm dealing with it. It's a strange state of affairs to be in."

"Do you wish Maria was still alive?" she asked bluntly; it was Jack Malone, after all.

He blinked at the broadside. "What the hell kind of a question is that? Of course I do."

"But you wouldn't have your girls."

"As much as I hated what Maria put me through, I didn't exactly want it to happen, did I?"

Lisa sat back in her chair, nodding at the answer. "So if everything's hunky dory, why are you here?"

"I figured I'd be sent here when I returned next week, and I thought I'd just get it-"

"Over and done with, right, I get you... Look Jack, we've never had problems communicating in the past. You know you can talk to me."

"I appreciate that."

"You've seen the team?"

"No, I came straight here."

"They contacted you?"

"They were at the funeral; Viv's called me a few times," he said, omitting to mention Samantha's short phone call.

"Samantha wasn't," she stated.

"Correct." She's done her homework.

"How did you feel about that?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't have a problem with it at all. She needed to be at NYPD."

"Admit it; it would have been weird for her to be there."

"Maybe. But it's a moot point, and Martin kind of represented her anyway. Move on." He was resisting the urge to drum his fingers impatiently on his thigh.

Lisa hid her surprise, knowing about the break-up. She also knew it wasn't her call to set him straight on the matter. He'd have to work that one out himself.

"You've organized help at home?"

"Yes, one of our neighbors' daughters, Stevie. She's helping out with the girls after school and odd hours when I'm not there."

"She qualified?"

"She wants to learn nannying and go traveling. This is a start, and the girls know her from before and they're all getting along really well. When she was younger she used to come over and hang around. She's doing a first aid course."

"Sounds young."

"Almost twenty, but she's a good kid."

"And has Fleetwood Mac fans for parents."

"Now why would you think that?" He smiled as he stood up. "I've got to go. I have to fly to Chicago and sign off on the sale of the house; organize the movers for the rest of the stuff."

"Busy time for you."

"Has to be done."

"Take care, Jack. Anytime you feel you need to talk..."

"Thanks, Lisa."

Thinking he had gotten off lightly, Jack went to the lift. He pondered if he should see the team. Checking his watch he decided to flag it. He'd see them next week.

Xx—

Jack woke immediately he felt the tapping on his shoulder. "Wha…?" He tried to focus in the dark.

"Daddy…" It was Kate.

He reached out a hand to her. "What's up, sweetie? You okay?"

Instead of replying, she climbed into the bed with him, bringing a favorite teddy bear with her. "I want to be here with you," she said in a small voice.

She'd been crying and Jack gathered her into his arms. "What's wrong? Tell me." She'd had trouble sleeping, although it was getting better, until now.

She buried her face against his chest. "Why did she leave us?"

"She didn't want to, honey. It wasn't her choice," he replied, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her.

"But it's not fair…" She began crying again.

Jack wanted to say: Yes, it is unfair, it was unfair and life is unfair, and that's what we get, and there's nothing we can do about it. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"I miss her so much." She moved her head to look up at him. "You miss her, don't you Daddy?"

"Yes, of course, sweetie," said Jack softly, giving the only possible answer to his youngest daughter. "It's all right; you can stay with me tonight, okay?"

She nodded, and continued her quiet weeping into his t-shirt. He continued stroking her hair, calming her, until she went to sleep. Only then did Jack let himself drift off.

tbc

Xx--