A/N This is the last chapter. Thanks to everyone who read, but an especial big THANKS for those of you who REVIEWED!!!

Chapter 10

The years passed and the old team kept finding missing people and experiencing changes. Estella Murphy joined the team eighteen months after Samantha's death. Then, about the time Evan started the fourth grade, Jack Malone retired after serving the FBI for almost thirty years. He said good-bye to his life on the busy streets of New York and headed to Chicago to be closer to his daughters. Vivian Johnson also had a major life change. Less than seven years after taking over for Jack, Paula Van Doren presented her with the keys to her office. Vivian was Deputy Director for the New York office.

In those intervening years, Martin Fitzgerald's life had become the dream he so often spoke of—a loving wife, children, and the picket-fenced house in the suburbs. Martin relinquished the dream of a family dog when he realized how allergic Lauren was to furry animals. He was still a member of the Missing Person's squad, sharing the supervisory role with Danny and a much larger team. Lauren still worked for the Department of Education, but on a reduced schedule so that at least one parent could be available for the kids and their activities. Chelsea Simone had two younger siblings—Veronica Marie and Henry Joseph. By the time she turned fifteen, Chelsea chafed at the restrictions her parents set down, but endured them as best she could without actually getting into serious trouble with Mercedes Taylor, her best friend. Veronica was two years younger and far better behaved than her older sister. Henry was actually a surprise—a full five years younger than Veronica. Lauren and Martin had resigned themselves to their two beautiful girls when one afternoon, Lauren surprised Martin in the office and told him the happy news.

Danny Taylor shared the supervisory duties with Martin and they ran a much larger department than Jack or Vivian ever had. They had twelve agents who reported to them and often spent most of their days in the office coordinating more than one case at a time. Raquel and Danny lived in an old brownstone on the Upper West Side and managed to spend almost every other weekend out at Lauren and Martin's suburban paradise. Mercedes Sara, like Chelsea, had two younger siblings; in her case, they came in the form of two brothers. David Alejandro was three years younger and Carlos Elijah, five. Mercedes tolerated her brothers, but managed to spend most of her time with Chelsea.

Evan Spade Reynolds was now eighteen years old. To anyone who had known Samantha, it was obvious that Evan was her son. His hair was more light brown than blonde, but his eyes and mouth were all Sam. Both Danny and Martin made the effort to spend time with the boy who laughed like his mother often. He was a good student and had applied to several colleges in the Northeast. He wanted to become a doctor and help families make a difference through organ transplant. His dream of becoming a doctor began one day, when Evan was about twelve. A letter came addressed to "The family of Samantha Spade." It was from the organ transplant organization—well, really it was from one of the recipients of Sam's donation that the organization forwarded. That Samantha had been an organ donor was never really discussed with Evan until the letter arrived.

Initially, Evan had been angry that there were pieces of his mother still 'alive' when he was forced to know her though pictures and stories. But after a good long talk with his Papa and his uncles, he came to realize that his mother had been all about helping other people—in life as well as in death. It wasn't too long after that when Evan decided to become a doctor.

A week before Evan's high school graduation, Martin received a cryptic message asking him to meet Evan at Samantha's grave. Worried what Evan might be thinking, Martin made his way out of the city and to the cemetery. When he arrived, Martin's worry increased. Evan was sitting on the bench near the gravesite holding a small box in his lap.

"Hey, Ev. What'cha got there?" Martin sat down next to his nephew.

Evan shrugged, "Letters to my mom and from my mom."

"Who are they addressed to?" Martin thought he recognized one of the envelopes, but wasn't sure.

"You, mostly," Evan looked at Martin with tears in his eyes, "Why didn't you ever tell me you loved her?"

Martin swallowed hard. In truth, he had been expecting this conversation for the past couple of years; dreading it, but expecting it nonetheless. "Um, well, Ev, it's like this. I did love your mother; very much, in fact. But we had a disastrous relationship, and we broke up about three years before you were born."

"But you never told me you loved her," Evan absently wiped under his nose and pulled out one of the letters. "You wrote her. You said you'd always love her. That one day you wanted to marry her and be with her forever!"

"Yeah, I did write that," Martin admitted, clearly remembering the drunken state he was in when he wrote it, a full six months after being shot. "I gave that letter to your mom and begged her to try our relationship again."

Evan looked at Martin, "You broke up with her and then asked to get back together?"

"And she turned me down," Martin said sadly. "Not that I blame her," he added quickly, "I wasn't very nice to your mom towards the end of our relationship. I broke up with her in the middle of the office and didn't even give her a chance to explain herself or redeem herself. When she came to my house that night and begged for another chance, I slammed the door in her face and refused to take her calls except for work." Martin pointed to the date on the letter, "It took us about three months to regain any part of our friendship. I wrote that about six months after I was shot in the line of duty—and drunk to boot. By that time, your mom and I were sort-of friends again, but no where near where we had been in the past."

"So you kind of ruined it? Is that why you're not my dad?" Evan had calmed after hearing Martin explain.

"You are so much like her, Evan. Damn perceptive and right on the money. Yeah, I ruined it and us," Martin ran his hand though what was left of his hair. "Your mom and I became friends again—even good friends. But when it came to intimacy, I wasn't even an option anymore to your mom. She sought out your dad and then along came you!" Martin hoped the boy wouldn't want more details. It just wasn't appropriate to tell him that Sam was lonely one night and took home a guy whose name she couldn't remember in the morning.

Evan hung his head, "And he didn't want me."

Martin pulled the boy close, "He didn't and doesn't deserve to know you, Evan. He told your mother that she was on her own."

"Is that why she chose Momma?"

"Yes, it is," Martin hugged him tight. "Samantha knew her sister would love you as much as she did. And just so you know the whole truth, I did love your mother, Evan. There is still a place in my heart that belongs to her and always will. Your Aunt Lauren knows this and understands. But even though there's a place in my heart for her, there's an even bigger place for you."

Evan turned to face Martin, "Thanks for coming Uncle Martin. I'm sorry I freaked out."

Martin stood and pulled Evan to his feet, "Everyone deserves to freak out now and then, Evan. I'm just glad you called me and didn't do anything silly."

"Me too," Evan shook his head and picked up the box of letters, "Oh, I almost forgot. I got into Georgetown. I sent them my acceptance letter on my way here."

"Ev, that's fantastic!" Martin clapped him on the back, "I know your mom would be so proud!"

"Thanks. I hope she's still watching. See you on Friday," Evan laid his hand on the tombstone as he left Martin still standing by the bench.

Martin watched the young man leave and looked at the weathered headstone, "You'd be so happy, Sam. He's a great kid! Thanks for watching out for him, and all of us too!" As he turned to leave, Martin was sure he heard Samantha's laughter, so he looked up and smiled.

I hope you all enjoyed the story. This was just one idea I had about the horrible writing surrounding Samantha's baby. I have a couple more in the works.

Respectfully submitted, RRSherlock