A/N: Yes, I am fully aware of how long it's been since I updated this story. Yes, I know I am bad -but hey, here's a chapter! I can thank my hubby for replacing my old PC with a tablet which means I can do crazy things -like write at work during my lunch. Yes, I know your mind is blown at such a modern concept... Anyway, this chapter was turning into something much longer, so it needed to be broken up, so here it is. A big thank you to lovely Mariel for her helpful betaing, and to my eternal nagger Diane because she knows I need prodding. Also thanks to Tiffani, who is a newer nagger! There seems to be some new WAT fans out there favouriting my other stories, so 'Hi!' from me. Cheers to Anthony himself for the grass and wood quote, taken from his early Twitter guise where he was talking about being bored in Brisbane.

Is that it? Yes, I think it is.

Rating: T, but M in the first few lines, obviously.

Disclaimer: I don't own WAT, but I'd like the 7th season dvds, just to have the complete set.

Out of the Blue

Chapter Four

Xx—

Fucker.

Absolute rat-fucking shit-head son of a whore bastard.

Jack's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Yes, he was flattered as hell that Sam had said he was her best friend, but the realization about what that absolute rat-fucker shithead son of a whore bastard Brian Donovan did to Samantha -and her son- was filling him with new-found fury.

He should have dealt with Donovan the minute he had opened the door and found him standing there, solving all future problems by punching the crap out of him, and sending him on his way. In fact, he had to face it, he'd always wanted to do that to him, but never had, for Samantha's sake.

That no good borderline-pedophilic asshole...

Samantha looked over at him. He'd been quiet so far during the drive, but she noticed his clenched jaw and hands, and knew the reason. Reaching over, she gently put one of her hands over his. "It's okay, Jack. It happened long ago. I'm pretty much over it."

Jack practically snorted. "Yeah, but it's all new info to me… and I wish I'd been there to help you pick up the pieces."

"That would have been great -I certainly needed the help, but it's all far in the past now." She lightly squeezed his hand in thanks before removing it. "And I've made sure Brian doesn't get near Finn; if Finn wants to see him when he's 18, that'll be his choice."

Nodding, Jack gave in –a bit. "Okay… and if you need any help –remember you said we have a good place to dump bodies." He shot her a smirk.

Knowing that look well, she smiled back. "I'll keep that in mind…" Looking at the passing scenery, she wondered why they weren't heading into town. "Where are we going this time?"

"Back to my place," he said, giving into himself. "I have reasonable instant coffee."

"That sounds nice," she said, cool as anything, but absolutely thrilled at the idea of seeing where he lived.

Xx-

In Jack's apartment, Jack was already out of his boots and in the kitchen plugging in the kettle for the promised coffee while Samantha still wrestled with her hiking boots. She was too busy looking around to concentrate on pulling out her laces properly.

"You need some help with those?" he asked, trying not to be amused at her struggle as he came back over. Looking down at her, he was acutely conscious of her being in his private space, something that never crossed his mind as ever happening again.

It was like some surreal dream.

Like the whole day had become.

Shaking her head at his offer, Samantha managed to pull off the second reluctant boot and got up, her eyes scanning everything –walls that went high up to small windows, occasional rugs covering the wooden floors, several skylights. All clues to his apartment once being a warehouse.

Watching her as she looked around the large area, Jack now saw it through her eyes: the sparseness of it all, the emptiness, the few pieces of furniture that had been included hardly filling it. He'd always liked it for its minimalism, but now it was just looking bare.

"I don't recognize any of this," Samantha admitted, "except your turntable and vinyls."

"Max broke a few rules and got that from my place before everything was removed. All my other stuff is in some lock-up somewhere. I get it back after seven years, so they say." They had eventually sold his apartment in New York for him. The price had been good, and as he'd long paid Maria out her half after she'd left, he'd done quite well in the different market.

Samantha had known about the apartment selling; she'd even visited it with a realtor, pretending to be a buyer. All she'd gotten out of it was a misplaced nostalgia, and more pangs of missing him.

But now, walking around, she tried to build up an idea of what he was like these days. An old couch and coffee table were there, with a bookcase and TV against the wall; a small kitchen area on the far wall, with a dining table and a couple of chairs. Behind her were some Japanese-style paper screens hiding a washer and dryer, plus boxes of advertising pamphlets shoved beside them. There were some further screens around what she guessed was his bed, with dozens of photos pinned to them. Going over to study closer, she saw there were various nature shots, and quite a number of group shots of outdoor activities -photos from his new life she didn't know.

"Not many of you," she remarked as Jack joined her.

"No, I took them for the most part… I didn't need to be seen."

"You're quite the busy guy," she commented, glancing at him. "Action Man Chester Boyd."

"Well, around here it's not all hearing the sounds of grass growing and wildly passing the time watching planks of wood warp, you know."

"Ri-ight," she said, looking back at the pictures. There were a few of him and a dark haired woman, which were definitely to be filed under 'couple shots'. Samantha suppressed a shudder –the woman was a combination of Maria and that damn Anne Cassidy. She wondered briefly if Jack had realized that.

"There… there were two things I couldn't find out about you," she said hestitantly as she turned away from the pictures.

Jack was surprised her delving hadn't solved everything. "Which were…?"

"Whether you were with someone, or not."

He looked over at the pictures for a microsecond. "Not anymore," he said curtly.

Nodding, Samantha was frankly relieved –and made sure not to show it. "And secondly, I'd wondered what you looked like, if you'd changed yourself."

He was intrigued. "And what did you come up with?"

"Oh, some big, scary beard, living in a cabin in the woods, off the grid -you know, Unabomber-style crossed with Grizzly Adams."

Jack touched one of his cheeks. "I did have a beard for a short time. I think all guys in my situation do it. Women change their hair; men go caveman."

She'd never seen him with a full-grown beard; the idea was fascinating and she tried to imagine it. "Did it last long?"

Shaking his head, Jack smiled. "There was a hell of a lot of gray and it itched like hell, so it only lasted a couple of months, and that isolated cabin idea was never on the cards."

Samantha grinned. "Another thought was that you'd gone all Brokeback Mountain cowboy…"

He was surprised at that, knowing how well they knew each other, and was amused. "Me? More like Grumpy Old Men, if anything."

Her gaze was drawn to the other side of the room, to the bookcase crammed full of novels and hardbacks. "You still like to read, I see," she remarked. Going over, she bent down to look at some titles. "Although there are some odd choices here, even for you," she said, pulling a chick-lit novel out.

"Ah… yes." Going over the now boiling jug, he wasn't going to elaborate where all the books came from: the same woman that Samantha had surely spotted in the photos, and who had put up all the photos on the screen. 'To make it more homely,' she'd said.

Well over a year ago he'd met Lara, a bookshop owner, at a business luncheon. It was the last independent bookshop in Missoula and she ran it well. The lunch date had turned into dinner dates, then something more serious and their relationship had gone on for nearly 10 months. Lara loved any wine, laughed a lot, talked a lot more, had a certain air of interest and experience about her, as well as being near to his age. He'd enjoyed waking up in her big, soft bed, when she'd greet him with some amazing breakfast she'd magically whipped up. She was definitely fun,and for a while there, Jack believed there could be something more permanent between them, and had wondered how it would fit into his witness protection-type life. He liked being around her home and her four grown-up children when they visited -it had given him some newfound sense of belonging, and a family life he'd missed. Jack liked them and they'd all gotten on well, but unfortunately Lara couldn't stop interfering in their lives and creating drama that didn't need to be there. It was a major fault of hers and he'd eventually gotten tired of it all. Added in was the ex-husband who seemed to hang around more than he should -in a familiar Brian Donovan way. The final two straws were when one of her daughters announced her engagement and Lara flew into a total organizing mother-of-the-bride tizz; then her son's partner became pregnant, which unleashed even more maternal meddling. He'd called their relationship off, much to her surprised annoyance and he found that while he actually missed her, he couldn't go back to her dramatic, controlling ways.

The lesson he'd learnt there was that he still didn't have luck with brunettes.

He should have learnt that long ago.

Alone was better for now –although his assistant manager Kelly and her husband were trying to fix him up with someone. He kept avoiding the issue, it was for the best and the business kept him happily busy.

"You can keep the book if you like: you're right, I never read it." Fortunately not all Lara's book gifts had been duds. Jack made the coffee –remembering how Samantha liked hers came easy- and brought it over to the couch as Samantha slipped the book into her satchel.

"Can I freshen up?" she asked, desperately wanting to explore more.

"Sure, the bathroom's over there," he said indicating a door off to one side, across from the kitchen area. Placing the mugs on the coffee table as she wandered off, he looked around again, thinking he really needed to stop making the place look like he could drop everything if needed and leave. This was his home now; he should start treating it as such.

The bathroom wasn't anything flash. On opening the door, a sink and mirrored cabinet were right in front of Samantha, the toilet was to the left, a shower stall further to the right. Small, but efficient. She opened up the cabinet to inspect the few contents.

"Are you checking it all out?" Jack's amused voice said from outside. "Anything of interest? Does my current aftershave meet with your approval?"

Caught out, she grinned. "What did you expect -how could I resist?" she called back, shutting the door fully behind her.

Now in the kitchen, Jack shook his head. "I'm hungry, grilled cheese okay?" he asked the closed door. A muffled 'Yes' answered him. Feeling almost domestic in a familiar way, he set to his task.

Xx—

"Mm," Samantha complimented him after wolfing down half her food. "You have good cheese here. I should get some for Mom." She hadn't realized she was so hungry.

Jack tipped his head. "High praise indeed from the Wisconsinite."

"Hey, credit where credit's due…" It was relaxing, sitting at Jack's dining table, making small talk. "This is nice," she commented, "almost like old times."

"Which old times were those?" Jack asked, finishing off his coffee.

"Oh, you know, the times when we were at work, eating lunch, talking about cases."

"True, and there was always Danny or Martin about, mooching."

"Or you were with Maria, or Anne," Samantha pointed out, "or tactfully ignoring me."

He couldn't fault her there. "Or there was him," Jack threw back, referring to Brian. "We never really could catch a break..." Brushing crumbs off his fingers, he wanted to change the subject. "So, how exactly did you get the cartel?"

Popping the last crusty morsel into her mouth, Samantha wiped her hands on a paper napkin. "I have it all with me on a USB stick," she said getting up and getting her satchel.

Pushing the plates and mugs to one side, Jack got his laptop ready for her and found his reading glasses. "You're very organized," he observed as she rifled through her bag.

"This is nothing," she said, sitting down and connecting her drive. "I even made a whole cut and paste mock-up outdoor equipment catalog, just in case I needed to use my cover. I bought my hiking boots a couple of months back to give them a worn-in look. I didn't want to look too green for the job… I've even become a bit of an expert in tents," she informed him.

Jack nodded, impressed as he sat opposite her. She'd certainly learnt a lot over the years – a far cry from the confident -if a tad shy- young woman who had strode into his office for an interview to join the team a lifetime ago.

Samantha opened a file. "Here it is," she pushed the laptop over to him, "these are all the members of the cartel, noted affiliates, what they did and what happened to them… Have a read, and I'll tidy up."

"Good grief," commented Jack, quickly scrolling through the pages. "This is a huge amount of info. I didn't realise there were so many in the gang."

"You didn't? Well, I didn't deal to them all personally –I managed to get some rival gangs, as well as some well-timed inside gang rivalry, to take care of that."

Jack looked at the two top entries. These were the leaders of the cartel; one had had a fatal heart attack shortly after going to prison, the other –Eduardo Palucci- had died of 'natural' causes about a year ago in his cell. "Did you talk to Palucci at all?"

"More times than I care to remember," Samantha said, carrying the plates to the kitchen bench. "We actually got on quite well. He didn't like the way the gang was handling things while he was inside. He was still trying to control it, while others were trying to do the same without him. The cartel was strong, but relatively new, fragmenting them took a while, but when the wanna-be bosses got the Russians involved -just before Palucci died- it lead to all sorts of in-fighting until finally the remains of the cartel just disseminated into other gangs and locations. And you were not something they needed to deal, or bother with, anymore."

"You've really played the long game here, haven't you?" Jack said approvingly. "I never knew you had that much patience."

Samantha paused in her washing. "Actually, neither did I… Anyway, relax, read."

He was going to be there for a while, so after she finished, Samantha went to the couch and took out the chick-lit novel. She hadn't read anything like that for a while, so it was a novelty. She looked over at him, sitting there with his glasses on, chin in hand, an engrossed look on his face.

Put him back in his black suit and tie, and it would be just like old times back at the MPU.

Sighing to herself at the yearning thought, she went back to her book.

Xx—

Jack hadn't exaggerated. It was positively screeds of information. He couldn't possibly read and absorb it all in one go. Each person had all their personal and criminal information there, including the details of what happened to them –death, prison or otherwise. The time and effort just putting this together alone must have been incredible. After 20 minutes he felt his eyesight start to blur. He hadn't been part of this world for so long -dipping back into it was like being made to visit a scary relative. Giving it a further five minutes, he rubbed his eyes, he knew he owed it to Samantha to read as much as he could, but it was hard going... Glancing over at her, he smiled at the way she was curled up, absorbed in the book.

She'd been like an avenging angel.

No -like my very own guardian angel.

And I never, ever knew she'd been doing any of it.

All those years, all that effort and trouble, to find him.

He knew he'd misjudged her –badly. Any hardness of character had ultimately been for him, and it would be wrong think it had totally transformed her. Being here with Samantha had been a good decision in the end; it hadn't been awkward at all.

Just like old times.

He amended that –just like some old times, the better ones.

Deciding to copy the file onto his laptop, so he could peruse it later, he hid it under a banal title in case his handler decided to snoop. Then he noticed another file on the USB. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.

The file wasn't large, but it certainly absorbed his attention for quite some time. Flicking his eyes back to Samantha to make sure she was still occupied, he opened up a few of his own files, went online and started to look at his business accounts.

Xx—

Reading was becoming soporific, and Samantha looked over to see Jack concentrating hard. "You've lasted longer than I thought," she said, a smirk on lips.

Startled out of his concentration, Jack looked up, "Sam, what's this?"

Samantha wasn't surprised; Jack was a born investigator.

"Ah… you've found what I'm up to next, then."

TBC

Xx—