Martin waited for a few minutes to pass before he excused himself and went off in search of Samantha. He knew her well enough to know where she would escape to when she wanted a few minutes alone and he quickly found her out on the balcony where so many seemingly pivotal conversations had taken place between them in the past.

Samantha stood against the railings, her arms folded across the top of the cold metal as she peered out across the city apparently lost in thought and she didn't bother to turn at the sound of the door closing behind Martin.

He stood wordlessly at her side and leant on the rail beside her as he stared out at the dull grey skies and tried to think up an opening line. Samantha stole a glance up at him and willed the fresh tears she felt surfacing behind her eyes to not betray her as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"I'm fine," she suddenly stated, anticipating his question and trying to reassure him with a weak smile that she was ok.

Martin nodded as he surveyed her face and sighed as he reached out and traced his fingertip along her cheek where tears had stained her skin, "Ok."

There just wasn't a point in pushing Samantha to talk about her problems, he had learnt that the hard way. And despite how overwhelming the urge might be to pull her into his arms and comfort her, he knew Samantha Spade was definitely not the rescuing type.

"Go inside Martin, it's cold out here," she sighed, turning her head away to stare across at the office block in front of her. She kept her gaze fixed upon the figures walking past the vast windows and tried to ignore the intense gaze she knew he had affixed her with.

Martin watched her jaw set with tension and he was surprised to see traces of fear flash across her face as she turned to him once again with wide eyes.

"Martin, I'm fine...really. Just go inside, please."

"I will," he shrugged nonchalantly, catching the pleading hint of desperation in her voice, "I just wanted to get some air," he lied unconvincingly.

"Nice try Fitzgerald," she smiled despite her growing misery and rolled her eyes at his unwavering stare.

Martin chuckled and held up his hands defensively, "Alright, so I came to check up on you," he rubbed his hands together for effect and visibly shuddered as the icy winds blew through the fabric of his cotton shirt, "so is there any chance you want to tell me about it before we both catch pneumonia?"

He sighed as he saw his attempt at humour had failed, Samantha remained staring stoically at the ground below.

Martin watched her hair blow across her cheek and saw her fingers trembling as she recaptured a blonde tendril behind her ear.

"I'm a good listener," he said gently, catching her gaze as she looked up at him momentarily.

The tenderness in his eyes caught her off guard and as she stared back up at him and replied almost sadly, "I'm not such a good talker."

She turned back to stare at the skyline as he merely nodded silently and dug his hands in his pockets.

Martin peered up at the darkening sky and winced at the cold blast of air that greeted him, "It's getting colder... looks like it might snow."

"Yeah, I know," Samantha stared up at the clouds and nodded, her hand suddenly fluttering to her face as she felt tears welling in her eyes.

Martin looked at her askance, thoroughly confused by her reaction to what he had imagined would be a thoroughly innocuous statement.

Sam inhaled slowly and tried to suppress the ridiculous urge to burst into tears, she could feel him staring at her in confusion and despite how absurd she knew she would sound, she found the words hesitantly forming on her lips.

"Did you... did you ever have a dream?" she felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment.

Martin paused and considered the question with obvious confusion, "A dream? Like...a nightmare?"

"No," she shook her head and then frowned as she tried to explain herself, "yeah, I guess. But a dream you have every night. Always the same thing and then when you wake up, it's...it's like you know things. You know things that are going to happen."

She avoided his gaze and stared down at her feet as she folded her arms tightly across her chest and awaited his response.

"You're having nightmares?" Martin tried to simplify the issue, thoroughly mystified at to why Samantha would be so upset about something as obscure as a nightmare.

"It's not quite that simple Martin," Sam shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly.

"Ok, so...what's the dream about?"

Sam shook her head firmly, "I can't tell you."

Martin cleared his throat uncomfortably and sighed, "Is it about Jack?"

Sam looked up quickly and frowned at his question, "No. It's not about Jack."

Martin nodded and brushed his hand lightly against the top of her arm, "You can't tell me?"

Sam shook her head and wiped clumsily at the tears now streaming down her face, "No, I can't."

"Sam," he sighed wretchedly and opened his arms uncertainly in offering to her.

Samantha shuffled slowly toward him and allowed him to wrap her in a comforting embrace as her tears stained the fabric of his white shirt.

"It's just a dream Sam," he soothed, rubbing her back placatingly, "it's just your subconscious playing tricks on you. Whatever it is, it doesn't mean anything."

"Things have happened," she shook her head miserably, "things have happened that I saw in my dreams."

Martin had no idea how to reassure her over such an outlandish problem. The Samantha he knew would never have let something so insignificant as a dream effect her so deeply. Clearly whatever it was she saw in her dreams had troubled her deeply, yet as always she seemed reluctant to talk about him.

"Like what?" he questioned, hoping to be able to dismiss her fears with rational explanations.

Sam shrugged and pulled away from his embrace, the fear in her heart became almost overwhelming when she found herself in his arms.

"Martin, I can't... I can't talk about this," she shook her head and inhaled sharply, desperately trying to escape the conversation.

"Alright," he said quietly, admitting defeat once again. No matter how he tried to remind himself that getting close to Samantha once again was a dangerously bad idea, he somehow always found himself in this exact situation. Samantha would never open up to him, she would never allow him to comfort her or love her no matter how desperately he might want to. Samantha didn't need him in any sense of the word and she never would. Perhaps accepting this would be the first step in getting over her and finally admitting defeat.

Samantha stared up at him and found herself talking a step closer, her heart aching as she saw the hurt and quiet acceptance on his face. For the first time she wanted to tell him her fears, she had wanted to confide in him, yet the circumstances were too surreal and frightening to allow it.

A tiny flake of snow spiralled down from the sky, hovering in the air next to them before slowly descending to the earth where it disappeared into the concrete ground.

Sam stared up at the sky as snowflakes began to drift down from the clouds in the icy wind, the freezing particles landing on her cheeks.

Martin looked up to watch the beginning of the snow fall, finding Samantha staring at him silently as she wiped tears from her cheeks.

As the snow she had dreamt about slowly fell from the skies, Sam found herself once again contemplating the events of her nightmares and a sharp sudden pain struck her heart as she imagined losing the man she could only now admit she loved.

"Samantha," he said softly, watching her move closer until the tip of her nose was almost touching his. He had no idea what was happening, every thought in his head became redundant as he felt her hands grasp his tightly and seconds later her warm, soft lips were against his.

His hands slipped from hers and despite the warning sounding in his head, he wrapped her tightly in his arms and returned her kisses. Her lips tasted just as he remembered, just as he had craved since they had been apart. Yet the new found tenderness and softness in her kisses at once surprised and delighted him.

Her hand slid around the back of his neck as their lips momentarily parted only to be reunited once again and he felt her heart pounding against his as she pressed closer and closer.

Then in a split second she pulled away, her breathing ragged as she peered up uncertainly into his eyes and blinked in rapid confusion.

"I...I'm sorry," she shook her head, desperate not to see regret or anger on his face.

Martin swallowed hard and merely stared down at her, watching as she glanced self consciously at the window bank and then hurried inside to the bullpen.

"Sam, wait!" Martin walked after her, trying to catch up with her before they reached their colleagues.

He stopped dead in his tracks as Jack stood imposingly in front of him, a decidedly unimpressed and angry expression on his face as she licked his lips irritably and regarded the younger agent with a thoroughly disapproving glare.

"Is there something going on I should know about?" Jack demanded gruffly, casting a glance over at Sam who was now seated back at her desk and was rifling busily through a pile of papers in the hopes of avoiding his attention.

Martin caught her gaze and saw the desperation in her eyes, "No, there's nothing going on," he replied firmly.

Jack merely stared at him and nodded, his eyes betraying that he knew what had just occurred outside moments before. Martin returned the steady glare defiantly and then gestured over to his desk, "I should get back to work."

Samantha spent the rest of the day casting cautious glances over at Martin who pretended to remain oblivious to her attention and as the afternoon dragged slowly by and the snow continued to fall outside, not another word was spoken between them.