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chapter twenty

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and if the darkness is to keep us apart
and if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
and if your glass heart should crack
and for a second you turn back
oh no, be strong
-U2, "Walk On"

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May 2, 2003
Arlington, VA
7:30 pm

Martin stood on the front steps of his parent's home, shivering slightly in the evening air. He curled his index finger back once, hesitating, before impulsively pressing it against the cool metal of the doorbell.

The door flung open to reveal a large, heavy-set Irish woman who was both surprised and pleased to see him. "Martin!" She exclaimed, smiling at him.

"Hey, Maeve," he returned her smile easily as she ushered him inside. Maeve was in her early sixties, and she had been the Fitzgerald's housekeeper for almost as long as he could remember. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm just fine," she spoke rapidly, pulling him by the lapels of his suit jacket and running a meticulous eye over him. "Your parents didn't mention that you were dropping in this evening," she questioned, her eyes still scanning, continuing her inspection.

"Dad and I have a few things that we apparently 'need to discuss,'" he said, shrugging his shoulders as he mimicked his father's message. Although he spent the majority of his time in Washington, he rarely spent any prolonged periods of time with his parents, particularly not in his childhood home. It was not that he did not love his parents, or that family was not important to him; certainly the contrary. However, his parents always saw everything in a very specific way, and he much preferred to look at the world with an open mind. Though his parents had been the ones urging him to go into politics, he found that seeing things through his parents' eyes tended to complicate things far more often than simplifying them.

"You are too skinny, and too pale," Maeve dropped her hand from his lapels, completing her inspection. "When are you going to stop working for a few days and get a little sun?" She paused, leading him out of the foyer and down the hallway. "You look good, though."

Martin shook his head with a small laugh.

"Your mother is playing bridge at the Andersons," Maeve said, turning towards the kitchen. "Your father is in the study."

He stood for a few moments, amusement evident on his face as the kitchen door swung shut behind Maeve's retreating figure. Some things, he realized, would never change.

He turned to walk in the opposite direction from which Maeve had disappeared, approaching the closed door of his father's study. He knocked.

"Yes?" His father's stern, pointed voice was only slightly muffled behind the walls.

"It's just me, Dad," Martin said, and the door creaked as he opened it.

His father sat at the desk in the back corner of the room, head bent over several stacks of files. Victor looked up when he heard the door creak. "Martin," he nodded acknowledgement. "The OPR thing is taken care of."

"I'm doing great, Dad. How are you?" Martin rolled his eyes, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"I thought you would want to know, son." Victor spoke warningly.

"I already knew," Martin explained, shrugging his shoulders and wondering if his father would ever give him any credit. "I have friends at DOJ too, you know."

"Yes, well it's taken care of. You don't have to worry about it anymore."

"Good," Martin nodded. He still did not understand all of the details of the case, or the details of how his father had brought the investigation to a close, but he assumed it was not any more complicated than just pulling rank -- something Victor Fitzgerald was extremely good at. "Is this what you wanted to discuss, Dad?"

"No," Victor replied shortly. "A friend of mine in Senator Mahoney's office heard a rumor about a new bill on educa--"

"Stop, Dad!" Martin cut him off before he had a chance to say anything further. "Just, stop."

"Martin!" His father lectured. "Son, I am only trying to help you. Someone needs to look out for your best interests."

"Enough, Dad," Martin laughed bitterly. "This isn't really about my best interests, is it? Please, just stay out of my life." Martin paused long enough to take in the slightly stunned look on his father's face, and sighed. "I'll see you at Bridget's birthday party."

He did not even stop to wish Maeve "goodnight" as he rushed purposefully back out the front door.

xx

May 3, 2003
New York City
2:00 pm

Samantha lay quietly on the sofa, her mind racing. Martin had arrived at about 10:30 that morning, and they had exchanged the usual small talk over a late breakfast. Their conversation was not tense, exactly; however it lacked the usual ease and comfort that they usually had with one another. It had been one of the things that had initially attracted her to him, his ability to listen and make conversation, the way he seemed interested in everything about her.

But their conversation that morning had seemed very tired and unnatural. It scared her, mainly because she did not know how to handle this. When past relationships got to any point of stress or strain, she normally would either call things off or initiate sex to see if that helped relieve the tension. She knew instinctively that neither would work on Martin, and she was fairly certain that she would not want to solve their problems that way, either. She laughed inwardly, thinking about how her mother would joke that this was her first "real" relationship in spite of the fact that they lived several states away from each other and that he is a Senator, and a very popular one at that. He was only a few months into his term, but he was honest and fair, and the majority of the population of New York was very receptive to that. Of course, it probably also did not hurt that he was young, attractive, and as far as the rest of the public knew, single.

So when Martin had suggested that they watch a movie and relax for a little while, she had readily agreed.

They were now well towards the end of the movie, and she could not focus on what was happening on screen at all. The past week held so many emotional ups and downs, and all she wanted to do was try to make sense of what had happened as the week had come to a close.

Sam hit the 'off' button on her monitor and ran her hands along her face as she waited for her screen to go blank.

The previous afternoon, they had received confirmation on Carrie Wilkins' remains. After investigating a couple of leads that morning, Van Doren had given word that they were to declare the case cold and move on to a new case. While Jack and Danny had gone on to investigate a wayward cab driver who did not report back in after his shift ended, Sam and Vivian found themselves with the daunting task of explaining to Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins that they could not offer any answers as to their only daughter's death.

It was 6:00: Vivian and Naomi had already gone home for the weekend, and Jack and Danny had retrieved their depressed cab driver, who had taken off in a moment of panic, unable to face the harsh realities of his financial situation. They were due back any minute now.

She watched as her computer made the familiar whir and click, the screen going black before her. She heard the buzz of voices echoing through the mostly-empty bullpen, signaling that Danny and Jack had returned. While Danny disappeared into the locker room, likely to grab his jacket before the night-on-the-town he had been bragging about, she heard Jack move to the white board to discard their missing person's photograph.

"Hey," Jack said, tossing the photo with the rest of the paperwork from the case to be dealt with at a later date. "How did it go with Carrie Wilkins' parents?"

"As good as could be expected," she shrugged. She had not spoken with Jack alone since leaving him sitting on the bench by the courthouse the previous afternoon and had no desire to have this conversation be the last one of her work week, but it looked as though she had no other choice. "I hear you guys convinced the cabbie to come home."

"Yeah," Jack laughed. "It's amazing what a few hours' drive will do for your state of mind."

Sam shuffled several manila folders on her desk, picking up the ones she needed to go over that weekend and placing them with her purse. "I guess so..."

"Sam?" Jack's eyes bore down at her as she turned to collect her things. "Is there anything that I should know about...?"

She drew in a short breath, knowing that this was about what he did or did not overhear yesterday while she was on the phone with Martin. "No," she said with a terse nod. She briefly considered telling Jack that she was seeing somebody new, but it was none of his business. Let him think what he might want, but she was not obligated to tell him anything. "Have a good weekend, Jack." She said with an uncomfortable smile, and with a wave of her hand, she turned and walked out of the bullpen.

"Sam?" Martin reached around from where he lay on the sofa to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear. On the television screen, the end credits were rolling and the final song was playing. "Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, sitting up to sit next to him.

"Sam..." he pleaded, giving her a small smile of encouragement. "Something happened this week, and I came up here to make sure you were alright." He laughed teasingly, running his hand along her cheek before adding, "I don't plan on leaving until you tell me what's going on, so you can make this as easy or as difficult as you want."

Sam bit her lip, casting her eyes downward as she found herself unable to stop the words from flowing. "We had this twelve year old girl who disappeared on her way home from school five months ago. New Jersey authorities found her body in Rutherford last weekend; her body was so decomposed that it took almost all week to get a positive ID. We had to close the casefile, none of our leads panned out and there was nothing more we could do..."

As her voice trailed off, she felt Martin inch closer to her hesitantly. "Hey," he said in a hushed whisper, placing a kiss on her temple. "I'm sorry."

Sam let out an audible sigh and shrugged her shoulders. "It's okay. I mean, it happens. But the look on her parents' faces..." Sam paused, her heart breaking for the young girls' parents once again. "Thank you, by the way, for what you did with OPR."

Martin smiled at her, shaking his head slightly. "It wasn't really me. My dad took care of it."

"I figured he was involved when he was in the office the other day, but this does not seem like something your father would go out of his way to do without some kind of catalyst."

"Dad was in New York this week?" Martin looked genuinely surprised, as though he did not actually know as much of the situation as she had assumed. "He never told me that..."

"Martin?" She questioned, turning her upper body so that she was facing him. "What did your father tell you?"

"Honestly, not much. Dad doesn't really trust me with his work stuff unless it pertains directly to me," Martin rolled his eyes. "Just that Jack was the target. He said Jack is a talented agent, but that he had made some mistakes and that he had it coming... I told him that it shouldn't matter, especially after what your team did for our family." Martin paused for nearly a minute, appearing very pensive even as he finally began to speak once again. "I know you hardly ever mention Jack, but from what I saw of him -- I mean, he just didn't seem like the kind of man who would be unfaithful. Especially since he has two daughters at home."

"It's not like that," she started, before she had fully processed what he had said or the words that were leaving her mouth.

Martin, however, did not say anything. Instead he sat beside her, looking slightly taken aback as he processed the implications of what she had just revealed.

Finally unable to take the pregnant silence any longer, Sam spoke in a tense, defensive voice. "If you have something to ask me Martin, just ask."

Martin caught her eyes nervously as he gave a tentative reply. "Am I... Am I the only one who didn't know?"

"Vivian knows," she said, surprised at how even and confident her voice sounded. "I'm not sure about Danny. Naomi doesn't -- at least, I don't think so. It was over a year ago, before she even joined the team."

Martin sat still on the sofa beside her, considering her vague explanations. She found his silence to be far more unbearable than any harsh words, and leaned forward as though to prompt him to say something, anything.

"I should probably go," he said suddenly, rising from his seat. "I want to see Caroline and the girls while I'm in town."

She sat rooted to the spot as he let himself out, completely out of touch with the reality of him walking away until she heard the door slam shut in his wake. She ran her hands through her hair and tried to shake it off, but even as she sat with her afternoon suddenly completely free, she could not make sense of what had just happened.

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