You'll Be With Me

by kaly

Sam and John create a life together.

1. part one

Title: You'll Be With Me
Author: kaly (razrbkr@juno.com)
Homepage: Kalynn's Fan Fiction - XFiles, Profiler, Star Wars: TPM, Hercules, Young Hercules, Harry Potter, Xmen: http://www.geocities.com/kalyw
Rating: PG
Archive: pfa (if it's still accepting)
Classification: angst, SJR
Summary: Sam and John and a life together.

disclaimer: once upon a time there were two characters and their names were sam and john. However, TPTB won't let them be together, and so for now believers can't live happily ever after. That is why we have fan fiction. The end. They are still not mine. However, I will gladly take John in the form of a donation! ;-)

rating: PG (minor language and angst)

notes: okay, I'm taking a stab at this. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping it works :-) Just a warning, this probably won't be everyone's cup of tea, it's starting out light, but it has great potential of really being on the angsty end. I'm putting a tear-jerker warning on this one, you've been warned. :-) Oh, and by the way, it's the longest thing I've ever written by *far* so I hope you stick with me! Either way, I hope you enjoy it.

FYI: I'm not exactly sure how old Chloe is these days. I'm not even sure she exists outside of soccer camp. Thus, I wasn't sure how old to write her to be. Although this story is set in a somewhat future time range (depends on how you look at it, could just be alternate universe) I'm going more for a 8 or 10 yr old range here.


You'll Be With Me


There was nothing unusual about that summer day when it started. Sam woke up, able to hear the birds singing outside her window. Sitting up in bed, she stretched her arms up over her head. She glanced out her bedroom window, and reveled in the sight of the suburban neighborhood that she and Chloe lived in.

For so many years her life, even her home had been decided by Jack. It was only now, after both the imposter and the real Jack had been incarcerated that she was truly free. A smile on her face, she quickly got out of bed and went to wake up Chloe.

An hour later, she was dressed for work, and was helping Chloe find her missing sandal. "Here it is," she called out, standing up from behind Chloe's bed.

"I wonder how it got under there?" the young girl asked as innocently as she could manage.

Sam managed to conceal her laughter. "Sandal monster?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I doubt that, Mom."

"Could it be that you forgot to put it up the last time you wore them?" Sam asked, mirth glowing in her eyes.

As she pulled on the sandal, Chloe avoided the question. "Better hurry or I'll miss the bus." She laughed as she left the room.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?" She couldn't help but ask. Even though she felt safer with Jack finally out of the picture, she was still reluctant to let go completely.

The girl turned to look at her mom, and stood with her hands on her hips. "I want to be like everyone else at school, Mom."

"And everyone else rides the bus," Sam guessed. Chloe nodded eagerly, and Sam found herself relenting. "Okay, but you're right. You better hurry."

Rolling her eyes, Chloe responded as she ran down the stairs. "That's what I said in the first place."

Sam smiled and followed Chloe down the stairs. "No running in the house, though. I don't care how late you are."

"Yes, ma'am," she said, and gave Sam a kiss on the cheek before skipping through the front door toward the bus stop.

Sam watched Chloe skip all the way to the bus stop, where she ran into several girls her own age and began to talk eagerly. Closing the door, Sam walked into her study and pushed all of the papers she would need at the office into her attache case. A few moments later she was on her way into downtown Atlanta.

***

When his alarm sounded, John grumbled. He reached an arm out from under the covers and slapped the alarm. The harsh noise abated, he lay under the covers with his eyes closed for a few minutes. Yawning, he forced himself to get out of bed before he fell back asleep and was late for work again.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he had just finished brushing his teeth when he looked closely at his reflection. "Grant, I'd say it's about time for a haircut." He muttered to himself as he ran a hand through the unruly curls.

After making a mental note to get a haircut, as had become a ritual for the past several mornings, he stepped into the shower. For a few minutes he stood under the steaming water, not wanting to move. Never a morning person, John put his face into the spray, trying to wake up.

Emerging from the shower a short time later, John grabbed a towel and headed back into his bedroom. After picking out a suit for the day, he dressed quickly and went back into the bathroom to try and control his hair.

When he walked into the living room, he glanced at the clock and was relieved to see that he had enough time to make some coffee. He was disappointed a little while later, however, when after rummaging in the kitchen he discovered that he was out of coffee.

"Oh, this is gonna be a great day," he muttered, "I can just see it already." Rubbing his hands over his eyes in an attempt to stay awake, he grabbed his car keys and locked the apartment door behind him.

***

The morning briefing was short, the result of a temporary lull in cases. "Anything else, Georgie?" Bailey looked at the computer genius as he spoke.

George shook his head. "Not for the moment." George laughed. "But that's a good thing."

"A hard to believe thing, is more like it," John said, grinning.

"Well," Bailey said, standing up. "We have to take what we can get."

Grace smiled and stood. "I like the idea, personally."

Sam was looking at the final paperwork for their last case. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Grace, we all do."

"So, go catch up on paperwork." Bailey's gaze settled on John when he said the words.

The younger agent half-laughed, feigning innocence. "What are you looking at me for?"

"Nothing." Bailey laughed. "Just waiting on your paperwork from the Burns case."

George grinned. "Ouch, John. That was three weeks ago."

"Quality takes time, George." John shifted from innocence to self-defense fluidly.

Shaking her head, Grace smiled. "Are you sure that's quality and not quantity? I've seen some of your notes."

"Why Grace, I'm hurt," John said, mock offense of his face.

George stopped typing on his computer keyboard to look over at John. "You're not in as much pain as we are. That shirt is blinding." To emphasize his point, he covered his eyes with his hand.

Sam laughed, finally drawn into the conversation. "He has a point, John. Where did you get all of these clothes all of a sudden?"

John turned to look at Sam, a daring smile on his face. "Was that Dr. Waters asking me about my fashion sense?"

"Lack thereof, actually," Sam baited.

While they were distracted discussing John's choice of wardrobe, Bailey and Grace made a silent exit, not noticed by the three remaining agents.

"Barnum and Bailey have a sale, John?" Sam asked.

John laughed, surprised by Sam's change in character. "You did *not* just say that."

"Maybe that's where he got the hair." George managed a straight face as he spoke, pointing to John's head with his pencil.

The outnumbered agent turned his attention to stare at George. "So I need a hair cut, so what. What is this? Pick on Grant day?"

"No, but it should be," George baited. Not letting them be distracted, George persisted. "Back to your hair, are you *ever* going to get it cut?"

John nodded, not managing to look as sure as he'd like. "If I can ever remember to make an appointment."

"I could do it," Sam offered, glancing up from her notes.

George and John laughed, exchanging a disbelieving glance. "You?" John finally managed to ask.

Sam nodded, somewhat bewildered. "Why not?"

"No offense, Sam, but I'd rather not be scalped."

Smiling, Sam replied. "Who said anything about scalping?" She paused for a moment, enjoying the shocked looks that passed across her colleagues' faces. "Besides, you could always buy that hair in a can they advertise on television." John opened his mouth to reply, but was held off. "I'm kidding, John."

"So say you know something about cutting hair," John hedged. "Why the sudden offer?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Some things just happen I suppose."

"And you really know what you're doing?"

Fighting her laughter, Sam responded, holding her hand up in the Girl Scout salute. "I promise, I know how to cut hair. So do you want a free hair treatment or what?"

John looked at Sam wearily. "I suppose I could trust you . . ."

"John Grant, sometimes I swear you are the most annoying man I know."

"I'm kidding, Sam." His comment was similar to hers from earlier. "So, if this experiment were take place, when would that be?"

Sam glanced at her planner before responding, "How about tonight? You never know when a case will pop up."

"And you never know if he'll back out." George offered, not so helpfully for John, from behind his computer.

Sam laughed, glancing at where George sat with a grin on his face, but spoke to John. "So?"

After a moment, John nodded hesitantly. "Okay, tonight it is then. What time?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders. "How about seven? You can eat dinner with me and Chlo."

John replied as he stood. "Seven it is then, but right now I better go find those Burns case papers before Bailey hunts me down."

After John had disappeared from the break room, George peered around his computer at Sam. "Do you really know how to cut hair, Sam?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" She laughed, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation.

"Oh, I don't know," George said. "I just don't see that as something they teach you in med school."

With a mysterious smile, Sam stood. "You might be surprised just what you can learn in med school, George."

Watching her walk out of the briefing room, George laughed. "I'll bet."

***

"What's this I hear about you cutting John's hair?" Bailey asked, sticking his head in Sam's office some time after the meeting had ended.

Smiling, Sam looked up at the senior agent, motioning him toward a seat. "Why, what have you heard?"

Bailey grinned. "Just something from George about you offering to help John out. Although I believe John's word for it was scalping."

Tapping her pen on the desk, Sam smiled evilly. "I think I'll tell him I messed up just to scare him."

Watching Sam closely, Bailey asked, "I didn't realize that you and John were so close."

"Close?" Sam asked, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean? We've been friends for a while now."

"I know, this just sounded a little strange." He stood.

Sam placed her pen down, and folded her hands. "If living with Jack taught me anything, it was not to overlook the things I have right here, Bailey. Thanks to Jack I have a very few friends. John happens to be one of them."

Bailey nodded. "All right, Sam. I didn't mean for this to sound like an interrogation."

"No harm done," Sam responded.

Bailey stopped to stand in the doorway, and turned. "I'll let you get back to work."

"Thanks, Bailey." After he closed the door, she picked her pen back up and started rereading the profile she had been working on earlier.

***

"What was that all about, do you think?" Grace asked, able to see the interaction between Bailey and Sam from where she and George sat.

George shrugged his shoulders. "Looks like Bailey was getting a little protective again."

Grace nodded. "Yeah, but protect her from whom?"

"My guess?" George asked, glancing at the medical examiner. "That would be the man in the hideous orange shirt."

Grace smiled. "Maybe this time she doesn't need protecting."

"Yeah, well, the way I see it, it's like a father not wanting to let his daughter go out on a date with the fast talking boy down the street," George observed.

"And you think that Bailey is that father?" Grace asked, laughing. She paused, thinking for a moment. "You might have a point there."

Smirking, George crossed his arms. "I usually do."

Grace punched George lightly on the arm. "But I thought it was just a haircut."

"Maybe that's all it is," George observed dryly. "But I wouldn't hedge my bets if you know what I mean."

"It could be good for both of them," Grace commented. "I don't think Sam's been out with anyone since the prosecutor."

George laughed. "I can't remember the last time John went out with some one for more than one night."

"George, that's awful."

"Maybe, but it's true."

Grace laughed. "You're probably right." Before George could respond, she smiled, laying her hand on his shoulder. "Yes dear, you usually are."

During their conversation neither agent noticed Bailey walk up behind them. "Now I know we need a case." The two startled agents' gazes met his. "You've got nothing better to do than gossip about your coworkers."

"Come on, Bailey," George prodded. "Aren't you just a little bit curious?"

"I'm not in the habit of speculating about my agents, Georgie." Bailey cleared his throat.

Grace looked at Bailey skeptically. "But?"

Bailey grinned slyly. "But I think she doth protest too much."

"Wonder if she knows?" George asked.

Grace laughed. "I've known for months. Too bad I didn't mention it to her."

From where they stood, they could see Sam still sitting in her office and John working at his desk. After a moment, Bailey broke the silence. "I hate to break up this *research*, but don't you two have actual work to do?"

"Gee, Dad, do I have to finish my homework before I go out and play?" George baited, grinning.

Bailey met his challenge. "Sorry, but it's that or go to bed without supper."

"On that note. . ." Grace laughed. "I think I'll leave before he tells me I can't go out on my hot date with Morgan tonight."

Bailey laughed. "Get to work you two."

***

Oblivious to his being watched, John was busy digging through his desk in search of his missing Burns case notes. He had put off trying to find them for most of the day, and was now in a rush to turn them in before it was time to leave.

Glancing at his watch, John was relieved to find out that he still had well over an hour to find the papers and turn them in to Bailey. On his desk sat most of the notes he could remember having, but he knew that one sheet was missing. He had almost given up finding it when he saw it tucked away in a lower drawer.

"Gotcha," he said with a triumphant grin as he pulled the sheet loose and stacked it with the others.

Smoothing out the papers as best he could, he placed them in a folder and walked to Bailey's office. After knocking on the door, he waited for Bailey to respond.

"Come in," the gruff voice called out.

Pushing the door open, John stuck his head inside the office. He then walked over to stand in front of Bailey's desk. "Here are the Burns case notes you wanted."

Taking the offered folder from John, Bailey managed to hide a smile. "And only two weeks too late." Glancing at the notes, he added, "I must say John, interesting work."

"I got the guy, didn't I?"

Bailey nodded. "And now maybe we can prosecute him."

John ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly. "It's not like the justice system is fast, either way, Bailey."

Seeing John fumble with his hair, Bailey's lecture was momentarily forgotten. "So? Ready to lose all of that hair?"

"What?" John asked, caught off guard by the change in topic.

"Oh, nothing."

John shook his head, replying sarcastically. "I'm nervous enough without your messing with my head, thanks."

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll do fine." Bailey paused, "Besides, it will grow back."

John exhaled slowly. "Your confidence is overwhelming."

The senior agent glanced over the papers one last time. "This looks in order. It's pretty slow around here, why don't you go ahead and leave?"

John's surprise showed on his face. "You mean cut out early?"

"Why not." Bailey grinned. "After all, you've got a date."

"It's not a date," John said quickly as he walked out of the office.

After the door closed behind him, Bailey laughed. "Sure it's not."

***

Sam had just pulled a loaf of garlic bread out of the oven when the front door bell chimed. Placing the steaming bread down on the stove, she removed the oven mit from her hand and went to answer the door.

When she opened the door, she smiled at John. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking somewhat lost. "Come in." She motioned into the house.

A relieved smile broke on John's face. "Thanks. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to bring anything." He glanced around the house. Ever since Sam had moved out of the firehouse, he had only been to see her once or twice. "Nice house."

"Thanks." Sam walked back into the kitchen. "What would you like to drink?"

"Whatever you've got is fine," he said, taking the chance to look around the tidy living room.

When Sam returned from the kitchen, she was carrying two glasses of iced tea. "Here you go," she said, handing John one of the glasses.

"So where's Chloe?" John asked, grinning. "I never picked her to be this quiet."

Sam laughed. "She's at a friend's house." She glanced at the clock. "In fact, they should be here anytime now."

John nodded, and took a drink of the tea. "So, you really want to cut my hair . . ." He risked a glance at Sam.

Recognizing the teasing glint in his eye, Sam managed a straight face. "You wanted the Michael Jordan look, right?"

John nearly choked on the tea he was drinking, and shook his head as he wiped tea from his chin. "You're cruel, do you know that?"

Sam laughed, but didn't respond because at that moment, Chloe rushed in the front door. "John!" she called out, running into the living room. "Mom said you were coming over!"

Sitting his glass down on a coaster, John smiled. "You got it kiddo. I had to come see my favorite girl, right?"

Chloe's laughter increased when John picked her up in a giant bear hug. While John was still holding Chloe, she reached over and ruffled his hair. "Yep, I'd say it's time for a trim." She giggled.

"I suppose you're right." John sighed dramatically. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he glanced sideways at Sam, who was walking back into the kitchen. "So, does your mom know what she's doing?" When Chloe nodded confidently, John grinned. "Then I suppose I'll let her cut my hair."

Sam, who had went into the kitchen to check on the spaghetti sauce, walked back into the living room in time to hear John's last comment. "I think I'll not ask what you two were talking about," she said, smiling.

Still giggling, Chloe said, "Just as well, you probably don't want to know."

"Oh, well then." Sam laughed. "It's just as well that you need to go and wash up for dinner, then."

"Aw, Mom," Chloe said, as John dropped her back onto her feet.

After Chloe had disappeared upstairs, John turned to Sam. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Spaghetti. You do like spaghetti, right?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked with a laugh. "I'm a bachelor. I'll eat anything as long as it's not green or moving on its own."

Sam shook her head, and commented dryly. "Then I guess the salad was a waste, huh?"

John flashed her a brilliant smile. "No salad is a waste if it has croutons."

"You are definitely a hard one to figure out." Sam laughed, shaking her head.

A moment later, they watched as Chloe hurried down the stairs.

As they were walking into the kitchen, John grinned. "Yeah, but it adds to the ol' Grant charm."

Placing the bread on the table and sitting down, Sam glanced at John. "So that's what you call it."

"Did you hear what she just said to me?" John looked to Chloe melodramatically, who laughed. He turned to look at Sam. "So are we going to eat, or are you going to insult me some more?"

Sam smiled at John's attempt at a serious face. Sam grinned. "Go for it big man, dig in."

***

"If you would hold still, I wouldn't be as likely to scalp you." Sam had scissors in one hand, and forcing John to look forward with the other. "Then again, maybe you're hoping to score some pity at work if I mangle your curls here," she baited.

John looked ahead, but tried his best to try and see his reflection on the shiny refrigerator. He mumbled, "Cut it a little closer to my ear next time, will ya?"

"Baby. It was just a little nick," Sam said, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

John laughed. "It's a good thing you're not a practicing doctor. I can imagine what your bedside manner would be like."

"Only when I had to deal with patients like you," Sam observed dryly. "I'm sorry, sir. But that ear will have to come off." She taunted John while steadily trimming his hair.

"You tried, I'll give you that." John spoke dryly, although his grin betrayed his seriousness.

A moment later, Sam handed John a mirror. "Here, tell me what you think."

John took the mirror, and Sam stood back, waiting for whatever blunt observation would come out of his mouth next. Instead, John whistled softly. "Not bad. I'm impressed."

Taken aback by his comment, Sam laughed. "You're serious." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah," he said, still holding the mirror to see his hair. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Her smile fading, Sam replied. "When Tom and I first got married, I would cut his hair."

John turned, regretting the subdued look on Sam's face. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"That's okay," Sam said. She smiled faintly. "You should have see it the first time I tried. You think *you* were worried about scalping."

"That bad?" John asked, smiling softly.

Sam grinned and shook her head. "Worse."

Chloe, who had been upstairs doing homework, chose that moment to run into the room. "Can we watch a video now?"

"Have you finished your math?" Sam asked. When Chloe nodded, Sam glanced at John. "What do you say? Want to watch a movie?"

Chloe looked at John expectantly. "Who can say no to a face like that?" he asked with a grin, pointing at Chloe.

Sam laughed. "You two go argue over a movie and I'll clean up in here."

"Want me to help?" John asked, standing and removing the towel from around his neck.

Sam grinned. "You have enough of a battle ahead over what movie to watch. The two of you will probably still be arguing when I get in there."

John nodded. "See ya in a bit then." After speaking, he walked out of the kitchen. All the while, he was wondering where his last comment had come from. After all, he was only going into the next room. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he grinned when he spotted Chloe digging through a large video case.

"So what are we watching?" John asked, kneeling beside Chloe.

She pulled a box from the shelf, and held it up for John to see. "Little Women?" she asked almost shyly.

He heard Sam's laughter in the kitchen when he replied. "Why don't we see what else we can find in here?"

When Sam emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, she was surprised to see the two of them already sitting in front of the television. "So, what did you pick?"

"Little Women!" Chloe exclaimed.

Disbelievingly, Sam looked at John. "All I can say is that I wish I could be that stubborn in the interrogation room."

***

When the movie ended, Chloe was asleep and laying on the couch with her head on John's leg. As the credits were rolling, Sam smiled at John. "Was it as bad as you feared?"

John sighed. "Worse." A second later he laughed. "Nah, it wasn't that bad."

"Chloe's asleep, you don't have to play along."

John shrugged. "It wasn't Steel Magnolias, that's a start."

Sam laughed quietly, and looked at Chloe. "I better put her to bed."

"Mind if I help?" John asked, surprising Sam.

She stood and replied. "Not at all. That way, I don't have to wake her up to get her into her room."

Carefully, John picked Chloe up and stood. Following Sam's lead, he carried Chloe up the stairs to her bedroom. Sam watched, surprised by the gentle manner he showed. Carrying her, putting her in bed, and then stepping back to let Sam tuck her in.

Chole's sleepy eyes opened just as Sam tucked the covers around her. She mumbled, "'Night, Mom. 'Night, John." A second later, she closed her eyes and was fast asleep.

"Good night, baby," Sam whispered, kissing her on the forehead.

From where he was standing, John whispered, "'Night, kiddo."

Quietly closing the door behind them, the two agents walked back downstairs to the living room. "I probably should be going."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's getting late."

"It was kinda nice, just hanging out," John said, a shy quality in his voice.

Smiling, Sam nodded. "It's not something I get to do very often," she said. After a moment, she added, "But you're right, it was nice."

After an awkward silence, John walked to the door, pausing in the doorway. "So I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Nodding, Sam agreed. "See you in the morning. Be careful driving home."

John nodded, "I will. 'Night, Sam." Turning, he walked to where his car was parked.

"Good night," Sam said to his retreating back.

After his car pulled out of the driveway, Sam closed and locked the door. Leaning on the wooden object for a moment, she sighed. There was something tickling at the back of her mind, she just couldn't quite put her finger on it yet.

***

The next day at work, John arrived a bit earlier than usual, hoping to speak with Sam. However, he was intercepted by Bailey.

"We've been called in on a case by the Jacksonville PD," Bailey said when he saw John. "We leave for Hartsfield in twenty minutes."

John nodded. "I'll be ready." He turned and walked to his desk. Grabbing his notepad from a desk drawer, John looked up to see Sam in her office.

Pushing the drawer closed, he walked up the short flight of stairs to Sam's office. Knocking on the door, he stuck his head inside. "Morning."

Sam glanced up from where she was sorting through some papers. "Good morning."

"Any idea what's up in Jacksonville?" he asked, walking inside the office.

Sam shook her head, "Just the little Bailey told me. The briefing will be on the plane." Standing, Sam placed the papers into her attache case. "Are you ready to go?"

"Whenever you are." He held the door open.

Sam tilted her head to the side, and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. She looked at John. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk," she said, her voice low.

John nodded. There was a feeling of hope in his heart that he couldn't quite explain. However, all he said was, "Me too."

Sam's eyes met John's, but instead of saying anything, she merely nodded her head and walked out of the office. Following close behind her, John pulled the door closed and they walked to the parking deck together.

From where he was sitting, downloading several files to take with them, George saw Sam and John leave. He chuckled. "There's definitely something going on there."

***

"The latest victim is a thirty-three year old Caucasian male." Bailey, having waited until they were airborne, began the briefing. "George, do you have the images JPD sent us?"

George nodded. "Sure thing, just a sec." After a moment's pause, and the sound of his fingers clicking on the keyboard, George gestured to a small screen. "There you go."

The first of several crime scene photos flashed on the small screen. "Thoughts?" Bailey asked, after they had finished viewing what evidence they had so far.

"He was overpowered," Sam observed. "But not necessarily by someone stronger than himself."

John nodded. "So we're looking for a woman."

Sam shook her head. "Maybe not, but I want to wait till Grace can look at the victims."

From where she sat scanning over her information, Grace said, "That will be harder than it sounds. The murders were stretched out of such a long period of time that they released the first two bodies for burial."

"Do we at least have the local examiner's reports?" Bailey asked.

Grace nodded. "And the latest victim is still in the morgue. Apparently, they just connected the three together."

"This is Captain Lewis," the pilot's voice echoed over the intercom, interrupting their discussion. "We'll be landing shortly, please take your seats."

"Let's get this show on the road," John commented as they began the descent into Jacksonville.

***

"He was struck with a blunt object from behind." Grace dropped a manila folder onto the table in front of Sam and Bailey. "If I were to guess, I'd say his attacker was at least the same height, if not a little taller."

They were working in the Jacksonville Police Department building while they stayed in town. For the moment, the investigation was progressing rather slowly.

"That's it," Sam said after listening to Grace.

Bailey looked up at Sam. "What's it, Sammy?"

Sam motioned toward the report. "It's not a woman. At least it's not very likely. Richard Blair was six feet tall."

"And his killer would have to be at least six feet," Bailey continued. "So you think the killer is a man?"

Standing, Sam began to pace in the small room. "It would make sense. Textbook case of the boy who was always picked on lashing out at the bully." Sam paused, lost in thought.

She turned to George. "George, can you get on the personal records for the three victims? Including back to high school?"

The computer tech nodded, typing a few commands into the computer. "It might take a little while, but I can do it. What do you think I'll find?"

Sam shook her head, lost in thought. "I'm not sure exactly, but some type of connection. Someone willing to hold a grudge for a long time."

"I'll see what I can find," George said, already focused on the computer in front of him.

After a moment, Grace asked, "What did the local detectives say?"

"John's talking with them now," Bailey offered. "We'll know more when he gets back."

John walked into the conference room. "Don't count on it."

Bailey waited until John sat down before replying. "They couldn't tell you anything, John?"

"Nothing very helpful." John thumbed through his notes. "They're still dumbstruck the cases are connected." Glancing at the few notes he had scribbled down, he added, "And they are completely stuck."

Bailey let out a long breath. "Then let's get to work."

***

Several long hours later, the team was on their way back to Atlanta. It had been agreed that they would work from Atlanta, and if another victim was discovered, return to Jacksonville to examine the crime scene.

It was two days later while going over what information that had been gathered that George slapped his hand on the briefing room table. "I think I've got something here."

Bailey stood, and walked over to stand behind George. "Tell me it's something good, Georgie." He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"What is it George?" Sam asked, putting the profile she had been focused on down on the table.

After a few more key strokes, George displayed some of the data on the large screen. "I had to go a little further back than we originally planned, but I found a connection." A few seconds later an old team basketball photo appeared on the monitor next to the text. "All three victims not only attended the same middle school, but played together on the same basketball team."

"Good work, George," Bailey said.

Sam walked closer to the monitor, studying the faces closely. "So if this is their connection, who would want to kill them?"

John, who had been sitting silently at the table listening to the conversation, tilted his head to the side. "My money is on the team manager."

Sam turned to look at John. "Why do you say that?"

"Look at him," the younger agent said. John walked over to where Sam was standing. "Tall, really thin. He looks like the type who would want to play and be accepted, but wasn't. So instead he helped manage the team."

"Close but not quite, huh, John?" Bailey asked, nodding in agreement.

Sam looked skeptical. "I agree with the motive, it just seems a little *too* obvious."

"Right now it's all we have, Sam," Bailey noted. "George, see what you can find out about. . ." Bailey paused, reading the listing of names below the photo. "Carlton Mathers."

***

While George was busy researching Carlton Mathers, Sam retreated into her office to look over the profile she had been piecing together. Several minutes passed before she was interrupted by a knock on her office door. When she looked up, John was standing in the doorway.

"Can I come in?" John asked, almost tentatively.

Sam nodded, and waved her hand. "Sure. What up?"

John shrugged, trying to act casual. "Nothing really. We just haven't had much of a chance to talk since the other night."

Smiling faintly, Sam tilted her head in agreement. She found herself relieved that John seemed to be thinking along the same lines she was. "You're right. This case has kept us rather busy the past few days."

"So I was wondering if you and Chloe would like to go to a movie, or something," John asked, sitting on the corner of Sam's desk. He smiled and touched his hair. "Sort of as a thanks for the haircut."

Sam thought for a minute and smiled. "I think Chloe would love it."

"And Chloe's mom? What would she think?"

Before Sam could answer, Bailey knocked on the door and walked into Sam's office. Although he noticed the quiet way Sam and John were speaking, he ignored it. "We have him."

"So soon?" John asked.

Bailey nodded. "George just pulled up Mathers' records. He fits the profile. Now someone has to go back to Jacksonville and check into his recent activity."

John stood. "I'll go."

Nodding in agreement, Bailey replied. "We leave in ten minutes."

"I'll meet you in the parking deck." After john spoke, Bailey left Sam's office to go and make arrangements for the trip to Jacksonville.

A moment later, John turned to look at Sam. "Looks like you were right."

"About what?" John asked, confused.

"About Carlton Mathers."

"Well," John said, shrugging his shoulders. "Playing varsity ball in high school teaches you things. Like how some things never change. The popular guys will always single out the guys who don't quite fit in."

"Sad, isn't it?" Sam asked, looking down somberly at the papers on her desk. When John didn't reply, she looked at him. "Before you leave, Chloe's mom would be happy to go and see a movie." With that, the hint of a smile returned to her face.

John's eyes lit up with the grin that filled his features. "Great. We'll figure out a time when I get back from Florida."

"If it's not too late, give me a call and we'll talk about it then," Sam offered.

Although surprised, John nodded. "Will do." Still smiling, he turned and walked out the office door.

She watched John walk away before she let out a long breath. Sam couldn't help but wonder why it felt like something was changing.

***

John checked the number on the apartment door with the address he had scribbled in his notepad and reached up to knock. John and Bailey had arrived in Jacksonville, and after a little leg work, discovered that Mathers had been seen near at least one of the crime scenes.

Knocking on the door, John stood back, waiting for Mathers to answer. A moment later, a thin middle aged man opened the door. When he saw the two men, and recognized Bailey's drawn badge, Mathers tried to slam the door shut and make a run for it.

Jamming his foot in the door, John raced into the apartment after the suspect. "Carlton Mathers," John called out. "We just want to talk to you."

Mathers made no effort to respond, and disappeared through a back window. Reaching the window, John looked out to see the suspect quickly descending the fire escape.

Continuing the chase, John caught up with Mathers just after he reached the ground. He called out, "Stop right there."

Instead of stopping, the fleeing man glanced back over his shoulder and redoubled his speed. In a last attempt to catch him, John landed a flying tackle, dropping the man to the ground just as Bailey rushed around the corner.

When Bailey reached them, John was struggling to handcuff the protesting man. "What do you think you're doing, big shot? Huh?"

John pulled the man to his feet. "We tried to question you, you ran. When I asked you to stop, you ran faster. Something tells me you have something to hide, Mr. Mathers."

"All you jocks are alike." The now subdued man muttered at John under his breath.

After cuffing the man's wrists behind his back, John raised a hesitant hand to his left eye. "Looks like he got you," Bailey noted.

John cracked a half-grin, "Just a lucky elbow shot."

"Come on," Bailey said. "The car is right around here. Let's take him in for questioning."

***

Pulling up into a parking spot, Bailey looked over at John. "You've been messing with your eye all day, when are you going to give up and do something about it?"

John sighed. It had been hours since they apprehended Mathers in the alley behind his apartment building. After taking him back to the local police headquarters, it hadn't taken long for John's interrogation to break through his ego. Just before eight that night, with the bureaucracy behind them, Bailey and John boarded the plane for Atlanta.

"There's not much I can do for it," John commented. "But I'll ice it down when I get home."

Bailey nodded. "There's your car, why don't you head on out?"

Too tired to argue, John nodded in agreement. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, John," Bailey said, watching as John climbed out of the car.

Getting into his car, John put the key in the ignition and the sports car roared to life. Blinking carefully, he pulled out of the parking deck and onto the street. John drove home slowly, cautious of his constantly watering left eye.

Finally at his apartment, John was glad to be home. Unlocking the door, he walked inside, and soon after re-locking it behind him, dropped onto the couch. A little while later, he sat up and pulled off his tie. Standing, he walked into the kitchen and made an ice pack out of an old dish towel.

He was dozing on the couch when the phone ringing jostled him from sleep. Reaching out blindly for the cordless phone that sat on the coffee table, he punched the power button.

"Grant."

"How are you feeling?" Sam's voice asked through the phone.

John sat up straighter, somewhat confused. "Sam? I thought I was supposed to call you." He hesitated. "Not that I mind. Wait," he paused again, "how did you know I was hurt?"

"Bailey called me," Sam admitted.

"Huh. I wonder why he called you?"

John could picture Sam shrugging as she replied. "I don't know either. He just said that you took a pretty hard hit to the face."

"I've been hit worse," John said, now leaning back against the couch.

Sam laughed softly. "I know, I was there. As I recall, I was against that fight from the beginning."

John protested. "This wasn't a fight."

"I know," Sam agreed, her voice soft.

John sighed. "And last time I did what had to be done. We had no other way of busting up those fights."

Sam relented. "Possibly, but we'll never know."

Wanting to change the subject, John asked, "So, how about that movie?"

Sam laughed as she responded. "You sound so eager. How do you know you won't be forced to endure another chick-flick?"

"Because Chloe is too young for the chick-flicks that really creep me out." John tried to joke.

Sam thought for a minute. "How does Thursday night sound?"

"Two days . . ." John said, thinking aloud. "Sounds about right. That will give my eye some time to tone down a bit." He laughed. "When I looked in the rearview mirror in the car, I thought Tammy Faye Baker was looking back at me."

"Ouch." Sam laughed. "That pretty, huh?"

John grinned. "You know, Sam, on you sarcasm just really isn't that attractive of a quality."

"Well, I'm learning from the best, aren't I?"

"And on that positive note," John laughed as he spoke. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Want me to bring some concealer for you eye?" Sam asked, not managing to hide her mirth.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Offering me make-up," he muttered jokingly.

Sam smiled. "Good night, John."

"'Night, Sam," John said. "And thanks."

"For what?" she asked, her voice quiet.

John shrugged, knowing she couldn't see the gesture. "I don't know. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye." She hung up the phone.

Pressing the off button on the phone, John sat it back down on the table and leaned back into the couch. "No use getting your hopes up, Grant," he mumbled to himself. "She was just concerned about a friend. Nothing more." But it was the more part that he couldn't help thinking about as he slowly fell asleep.

***

At work the next morning, Sam couldn't help but glance up every few minutes waiting for John to arrive. Characteristically, John walked in a few minutes before he had to be there. When she saw him walk to his desk and sit down, Sam stood and met him there.

She leaned against the desk's edge, smiling. "Well," she said, looking at his eyes, "I wouldn't go as far to say Tammy Faye. But Bozo better watch out, his make-up has nothing on you."

John met her humor with his own. "Well, at least I have an excuse. Those two are beyond hope."

Sam smiled, touching the edge of the bruise hesitantly. "How does it feel?"

He froze at the soft touch, not daring to move. "It's tender, but not as sore as last night." He answered honestly, his voice low. For a reason he couldn't explain he didn't want to resort to his usual witty retort.

Sam dropped her hand, the moment over. "I've got a paper if you want to pick the movie for tomorrow night." Sam handed John the folded Journal-Constitution. "Just keep in mind that Chloe isn't as grown up as she'd like to think," she added with a laugh.

Without looking at the paper, John asked, "How many times has she seen the latest Star Wars movie?"

Sam sighed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "More than once."

"And how about you?" John continued.

Dropping her hand, she grinned wearily. "I haven't."

"That's what I figured." He stood and looked down at Sam. "Up for a little adventure a long time ago?"

Sam laughed. "Somehow I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid this. Although I've done pretty good so far."

Resting a friendly elbow on her shoulder, John leaned over and whispered. "Come now, Sam. It's culture!"

"Not quite the word I would use," she retorted. "But alright. This movie is your choice, after all, you had to watch Little Women."

"Good, it's settled then," John said proudly. "How's the eight o'clock showing sound?" When Sam merely nodded, he added, "Then I'll pick you two ladies up at seven thirty."

***

It was late Wednesday afternoon when Grace walked into Sam's office and closed the door behind her. "So, how long were you going to wait before telling me that you and John were going out on a date?"

Sam looked up from what she had been reading with a confused half-grin on her face. "What are you talking about, Grace?"

Sitting down on the couch, Grace laughed. "Don't try and play innocent. You two are going out tomorrow night. To see Star Wars if George is right."

Laughing, Sam shook her head. "Do I dare ask how George knows?"

"You know how people talk," Grace said with a wave of her hand. "So, you're going to the movies . . ." she prompted.

Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, Sam shook her head. "We're going to the movies, but it's not a date. It's a thank you."

"Call it what you want, Sam. It's a date."

"Grace," Sam protested.

Smiling, Grace interrupted. "And about time too, I might add."

Sam's shock showed on her face. "Excuse me?"

Grace stood up, and walked around to sit on the edge of Sam's desk. "Don't tell me there's nothing going on between you two. We've all seen it."

"There's nothing going on, Grace," Sam argued. "I promise."

The medical examiner looked at Sam disbelievingly. "I don't know . . ."

"We're just friends," Sam reiterated.

Standing up, Grace rested her hands on her hips. "Okay, whatever you say." She grinned, adding, "But enjoy the movie."

Sam laughed. "Would you go look at dead people, or whatever it is you do to pass all this free time we have all of a sudden."

"I'm going, I'm going." She laughed, closing Sam's office door shut behind her.

Seeing George standing not far away, Grace walked over to him. "Well?" George asked.

"It's time to wait for them to figure out what we've already noticed," she observed.

George rolled his eyes. "Great, those two are stubborn enough that this could take forever."

"No kidding." Grace smiled, walking toward the elevator.

***

"Who is it?" Chloe called out after hearing the doorbell ring.

"It's John, Chlo."

Grinning, Chloe pulled the door open and looked up at the man standing outside. "Wow," she said in awe, "You really do look like a one-eyed raccoon."

"Oh I do, do I?" John asked, picking Chloe up and carrying her over his shoulder inside the house. "I'll have you know that one-eyed raccoons are very popular."

Laughing, Chloe didn't respond until he dropped her on her backside onto the couch. "I'll bet that's what they all say."

"So, where's your mom, kiddo?" John asked, sitting on the couch next to Chloe. "It's time to go if we're gonna make the eight o'clock."

Chloe giggled, and leaned over and whispered conspiratorially into John's ear. "Don't tell *her* that. She'll try to stall us!"

"You've got a point there." John laughed. "What do you say we go find her?"

Sam, walking into the living room, held up her hands. "I surrender."

"Mooom," Chloe said, still giggling.

Smiling, Sam walked over to the couch. "Ready to go?"

"Just waiting on you," John grinned.

Sam picked up her purse. "Then let's go, already."

***

"Chloe sure has gotten awful quiet back there," John observed while driving back to Sam's after the movie let out.

Sam smiled and glanced at Chloe who was sleeping in the back seat. "She was so excited about the movie, I think she wore herself out."

"And what did you think?" John asked with a grin, glancing momentarily over at Sam. When Sam didn't respond, John continued speaking, his eyes never leaving the road. "I thought so."

"I liked it, okay?" Sam said in mock exacerbation. "You'd think you were interrogating me."

John smiled. "I'd never interrogate you."

Instead of responding, Sam took the opportunity to look over at John. He was carefully guiding the car through the Atlanta suburbs. Sam used the quiet, trying to decide what to think, but the drive was short and they soon reached the house.

"Do you want me to carry her in?" John asked, pointing at the sleeping Chloe.

Sam glanced back at Chloe. "I'd be grateful for the help."

Once inside, John carried Chloe up to her bedroom and waited outside in the hallway while Sam managed to get her changed into her pajamas. He was looking at a painting on the wall when Sam stuck her head into the hallway. "She wants to say goodnight."

John walked into Chloe's room, and kneeled down next to her bed. "'Night, John," she said sleepily. "Thanks for the movie."

"Anytime, kiddo," John said, smiling. "It was my pleasure."

"Good night, Chlo," Sam said, leaning down to kiss Chloe on the forehead. "Sweet dreams."

They pulled the door shut behind them, much as they had several nights before. They were quiet; each lost in their own thoughts until they reached the front door.

"Would you like some coffee?" Sam asked, not ready for John to leave.

John shook his head. "No thanks." He paused, sinking his hands into his pockets. "Thanks for the fun night."

Sam laughed. The sound, to John, rang with a musical quality. "I should be thanking you. It was your idea."

"Ah, well, it beat a Thursday night alone with take-out." They stood there for a moment, neither speaking. "Sam, I . . ."

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when the distance between them, which had been shrinking steadily the longer they spoke, disappeared completely. John leaned his head down, and Sam's lips met his own.

A shy kiss, Sam slowly wrapped her arms around John's neck. A few minutes later, John broke away from the contact. He ran a hand absent-mindedly through his hair. "Sam, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have . . ."

Sam shook her head, still reeling from the emotion packed into the innocent kiss. "No, I'm sorry. It's my fault."

John shook his head, not understanding. Instead, when he saw a confusion filtering in her eyes similar to how he felt, he merely nodded. "I better go."

Sam finally remembered to breathe. "Yeah. Good night."

"'Night, Sam," he said, and walked to his car.

Once he was on the road, John couldn't help but replay in his mind what had just happened. The night had been so similar to the last evening they had spent together. It was the end that was drastically different. He feared the risk of pushing Sam away as a friend far more than losing any chance of that something more between them.

He had just closed his apartment door behind him, still confused, when the telephone rang. He picked it up wearily. "Hello?"

"I'm not sorry." Sam's voice said simply.

A moment later, John's shock faded. "You shouldn't be. It was my fault."

"That's not what I meant." She was pacing aimlessly around the living room. "I'm not sorry it happened, I'm just not sure what it means."

John sat down on the sofa, thinking *I know what I wish it meant*, but aloud he said, "I know, Sam."

"What about breakfast tomorrow?" Sam asked, wrapping the phone cord around her finger.

John nodded, although he knew she couldn't see. "Sounds good. Why don't you come here before work?"

"All right," Sam replied. After a moment's thought, she laughed. "Should I bring anything?"

John smiled. "Just yourself will suffice. I can manage to cook breakfast."

Sam smiled, her laughter fading. "You're sure?"

"Yes, Sam. Now good night."

"See you in the morning," Sam said, and hung up the telephone. Although still confused by what had happened, she felt better after talking to John. A few minutes later, she walked upstairs and got ready for bed.

John, however, was silently thanking the fact that there was a twenty-four hour grocery store in his neighborhood. Pulling into the deserted lot, he rushed inside the harshly lit store and quickly gathered everything he would need to fix breakfast.

The clerk at the check-out counter looked at him oddly, but didn't comment on the assortment of eggs, coffee, milk, bagels and yogurt. Before long, John was back at his apartment storing all of his purchase in the refrigerator.

***

Early the next morning, Sam knocked on John's door. Silently she hoped that he was at least already awake. She knew that he was not exactly a morning person.

Sam was quite surprised when John pulled the door open. He was dressed for work, with a spatula in one hand and a dishtowel over one shoulder. "Come in," he said, standing aside so she could enter. Seeing the look on her face, he laughed. "You didn't think I'd be awake, did you?"

"Well, I must admit," she said. "I've seen you at work first thing in the morning. It doesn't lead to much optimism."

John grinned, a twinkle in his eye as he took Sam's jacket before walking back into the kitchen. "Well, my cooking may surprise you too, then."

Sam followed John into the kitchen, and was assaulted by the aroma of coffee that filled the room. "Coffee?" John asked, handing her a cup.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "So, what's for breakfast?"

John replied with his back turned to Sam. "An assortment." He turned, and slid a heap of scrambled eggs onto a plate. "Scrambled eggs, bagels and yogurt." He paused, glancing at Sam's surprised face. "I wasn't sure what you liked. I've only seen you eat bagels when we were on cases."

Sam laughed. "When did you go to the store?"

"What?" John asked, dropping the dishtowel onto the counter. "Why do you think I didn't have this already?" The disbelieving look that Sam cast at John caused his facade of seriousness to crumble. "Okay, sometime before midnight."

"You shouldn't have . . ." Sam began to say.

Pulling out a seat for Sam, John shook his head. "Sure I should have."

The conversation during breakfast was light, and neither mentioned what had happened the night before. They both, however, had trouble not thinking about it.

"Done?" John asked, and when Sam nodded, he reached over to take her plate. Rising from his chair, he turned and put the dish in the sink.

"Let me help you," Sam said, standing.

John didn't see Sam stand; when he turned around, he bumped into her. Pushed off balance, Sam lost her balance, falling right into John's arms.

For the moment, neither one spoke, each content to stare into the other's eyes. "Sam," John managed to whisper right before their lips met in another kiss.

Unlike the kiss the night before, which had been shy and innocent, the kiss intensified, becoming deeper and more urgent, until they broke apart.

More confused than ever, John asked, "Sam?"

Sam searched John's gaze. "We don't know what we're doing."

A grin formed on John's face. "Good, because if we did, I'd be worried."

Instead of replying, Sam wrapped her arms around John's neck, and kissed him again. When it ended, Sam let out a long breath. "We should probably go to work."

"Probably." John grinned. "George and Grace have enough ideas as it is."

Sam's face broke into a smile. "Yeah, they knew something was up before we did."

"And what is up?" John asked, suddenly insecure with the entire situation. He knew it could too easily go wrong.

Sam smiled softly, their arms still wrapped around one another. "Something good, I think."

***

During the morning briefing, which was short during their current lack of cases, Sam and John kept a discrete distance between themselves. It didn't stop both Grace and George from noticing the few glances that passed between them.

After the meeting broke up, Sam disappeared into her office and John went to his desk. Casually standing off to the side where neither Sam nor John would notice them, Grace and George talked quietly.

"I think it finally happened," Grace said.

George glanced over at Grace, a grin on his face. "And what exactly are you referring to by it, Grace?"

Grace playfully slapped George's arm. "Not what you're implying, buddy."

"Okay, okay." George laughed. "But I guess we were wrong."

"How's that?" Grace asked.

Before he turned to go back to his computer station, George replied, "It didn't take them forever."

***

Just before it was time to leave, John walked up to Sam's office. After knocking on the door, he glanced around and ducked inside. "Keep acting like that, Grant," Sam kidded, "and Grace and George will be here in two seconds flat."

"It's like being under surveillance." John laughed, looking over his shoulder. Crossing the office, John leaned against the corner of Sam's desk. "So," he said, "what happens now?"

Sam smiled. "I believe the common term for it is we go out on a date."

"Boy, am I glad you were here to tell me that," John said sarcastically, grinning.

Closing the file she had been reading, Sam laughed. "Whatever I can do to help."

"So do you and Chloe want to go out to dinner tonight?" John asked, brushing a strand of hair away from Sam's face.

"What do you say that I find a sitter and we spend this evening with just the two of us? Try and figure out where we're headed."

John nodded. "If that's what you want to do, it sounds great." He stood up and began to walk out of the office. Pausing, he turned. "Do you like French food?"

"As long as it isn't snails or frog legs," Sam said, laughing.

John smiled. "Then I know just the place. I'll pick you up at, say, eight?"

Sam nodded and smiled. "See you then."

***

Chateau de Fraise was lit up with thousands of sparkling miniature lights, and the soft notes of a quartet drifted in the air when Sam and John pulled up. Killing the car, John got out and hurried around to open the door for Sam.

"Thank you," she said and smiled brightly. Taking his offered hand, they walked into the restaurant.

The dinner held its share of surprises. Like when Sam ordered off the menu, speaking fluent French. She couldn't help but laugh at John's reaction. "John," she said, smiling. "You look like I just sprouted another head."

Closing his mouth, he laughed. "You speak French?"

"Oui," she said, handing the menu to the waiter.

After he ordered, John handed his menu to the waiter, and looked at Sam. "Just what other surprises are you hiding?"

Sam shrugged coyly. "Now, what fun would it be to just tell you?"

They had just received their food when a wandering violinist walked up to the table and began to serenade them. Sam and John applauded politely when he finished.

Throughout the meal, Sam and John discussed all sorts of things. Although they did try and keep work out of it. Like breakfast that morning, each of them seemed content to avoid a serious conversation that might become too heavy.

During the dessert, however, John sat his fork down. "We've managed to avoid the one conversation that's the reason we're here."

"I know," Sam said, placing her napkin on the table. "We need to discuss us."

John grinned. "We need to talk about if there is an *us*."

"Do you regret last night and this morning?" Sam asked, steadfastly meeting John's gaze.

John replied simply, his voice serious. "Never."

It was Sam's turn to smile. "Then I think there is an us."

"So . . ." John began.

"What now?" Sam finished. When John nodded, she said, "We just see what happens."

***

Over the next few weeks, Sam and John continued seeing each other. Quite often, John would spend the evening at Sam's house, helping Chloe with her homework and enjoying quiet time with Sam.

A month after their first date, Sam was sitting in her office when a delivery arrived. A guard ran it up from the check station, and Sam smiled when she pulled the gold box top off to reveal four long stem peach roses. When she looked up, John was standing in the doorway.

"Do you like them?"

Sam's smile returned. "I love them. They're beautiful."

John smiled, still standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. "Good. I'm glad."

"But why four? That's an unusual number."

John laughed. "I couldn't come up with anything original, so I went for one rose for each week." He paused when Sam laughed. "It sounded different."

"It's sweet," she said. "Are you coming over tonight?"

Shaking his head, John replied, "Sorry, I have surveillance duty on the Ramsey case."

Sam's smile dimmed, but didn't disappear. "I understand, believe me, all part of the job."

"In fact," he said, glancing at his watch, "I better go. I'll call you, okay?"

Sam nodded. "Be careful."

"Always." John smiled.

***

After John had left, Grace walked into Sam's office. "I was walking to Bailey's office to give him the report on the latest victim when I noticed those." She pointed at the flowers.

Sam smiled, and leaned over to smell the fragrant flowers. "I wondered how long it would take you," Sam kidded.

"I have a sixth sense about these things." When Sam glanced at her with an odd smile on her face, Grace added, "Well, I do when it's the two of you anyway. I didn't ask for this ability," she joked, holding up her hands in mock surrender.

"Oh, I don't know," Sam said, still smiling. "I think it gives you something to do when you get too bored."

Grace sighed, and sat down on the couch. "That's not very often here lately," she said. "It seems we're making up for the easy couple of weeks we had."

"The Marshall autopsy still bothering you?" Sam asked, suddenly serious. She was referring to a case that had been stumping half of the VCTF for several days. Its name had come from the first victim, a well-known Athens businessman.

Grace nodded shortly. "There's something I'm missing. I just can't put my finger on it."

Sam smiled sympathetically. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"How is the profile coming?" Grace asked.

Sam sighed, glancing at the piles of open folders on her desk. "Narrow down which one we're talking about and I'll tell you."

"I see what you mean," Grace said understandingly. "So, are you and John doing anything special tonight?"

Sam shook her head. "No, he's working surveillance on the Ramsey case."

Grace smiled. "It's a good thing you two started dating when you did. If you'd waited much longer, you would never have had the free time to manage it."

"Occupational hazard," Sam said with a half-grin.

Grace stood up and walked across the office. She stopped in the doorway and smiled. "Wouldn't have it any other way, right?"

***

When John called later that night, it was Chloe, not Sam, who answered the phone. "Hi John," she said.

"Hey, how's my favorite kiddo?" Static echoed on the line, a result of John's using his cell phone during a sudden thunderstorm. Even over the static, John heard Chloe sigh. "What's wrong, little one?" he asked, concerned.

"When are you going to come back over? I haven't seen you in days." He heard the childlike hope ringing in her voice.

John sighed. "Sorry, kiddo, it depends on how long this case lasts."

"I know," she said sadly.

"What if I gave you a ride to school tomorrow? Then we can talk about everything we've missed here lately. Sound okay?"

Smiling, Chloe agreed. "Okay! I'll tell Mom."

John laughed. "Okay then. Say, can I talk to your mom?"

"I'll get her," Chloe said. In the background he could hear her calling for Sam. Just before handing over the phone, Chloe added, "I love you. Bye."

"Bye, Chloe," John said, waiting for Sam to pick up the phone. "Did you hear that?" he asked, awe in his voice.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I did. Seems like you won her over."

"Tell her good night for me, okay?" John asked, still surprised by what Chloe had said. He had never really connected with children quite so deeply before.

"I will," Sam said softly. "How's everything going?"

John shrugged. "No change. We watch the house, and I think it watches us. That's all."

"Something has to break soon." Sam tried to assure him.

John sighed. "I really hope so. This is going beyond dull."

"I'm sure you and Bobby are passing the time easily enough with your sordid humor." Sam laughed. "You're just wanting some pity."

John smiled. "Yeah, well. Not everyone can appreciate the true humor that Bob and I share." A loud crack of thunder followed the lightning that split the sky. "I better go."

"'Night," Sam said, before hanging up the phone.

***

"We got him!" John exclaimed, walking into Sam's office a week later.

Sam looked up. "Ramsey?"

John nodded, and leaned against the corner of Sam's desk. "We started noticing activity late last night, and the morning crew nailed him."

"That's great," Sam said. "Now maybe you'll have a little more time off."

John smiled. "I hope so. Although, I'm supposed to go talk with Grace about the Marshall case in a few minutes."

"That one isn't going so well." Sam sighed. "Grace has been stumped for over a week, and George can't find any leads either."

"Really?" John asked. "I haven't had a chance to go over the files yet."

Sam flipped through the pile of folders on her desk and handed John one. "Here's what I have of the profile so far. You might pick up something from it."

John took the folder, taking the opportunity to hold onto Sam's hand for a moment. "Thanks." After looking at Sam for a moment, he continued. "You look tired."

Rubbing her free hand over her eyes, Sam replied, "It's just been a busy couple of weeks, that's all."

John nodded, squeezing her hand. "What do you say to me taking you and Chloe out for ice cream tonight?"

Sam smiled faintly. "I think Chloe would love it, and I know I'd enjoy actually getting to see you again."

"Then it's a date," John said, standing. Kissing Sam on the cheek, he whispered in her ear. "I'll see you tonight."

***

"Hey, Grace," John called out after walking into the morgue area. "You in here?"

A second later, Grace's head appeared from behind a large stack of crates. "Yeah, right here." She walked around the cluttered area over to her desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Bailey told me to consult with you on the Marshall case," John said, dropping into a chair beside Grace's desk.

The medical examiner nodded her head. "Yeah, now that I think about it, he mentioned that to me too."

John looked closely at Grace. "Rough day?"

Grace laughed shortly. "Rough week, actually."

"That's what Sam was saying, too," he said with a nod.

At his mention of Sam, Grace smiled. "How goes that?"

"Sam and me?" John asked.

Grace grinned, rolling her eyes. "Yes, you and Sam. How's everything going? I've never really gotten to talk to you about it."

John laughed. "Maybe, but I've heard all about your cornering Sam."

"That was weeks ago," Grace laughed, crossing her arms. "You can't tell me that George didn't bother you about it."

"Oh, he bothered me about it, all right." John laughed, but didn't elaborate.

"You know," Grace said, changing the subject. "I noticed the other day that it's almost time for your physical."

John nodded. "Yeah, I know. I've just got to make the appointment with Doc Oc."

"Who?" Grace asked, confused.

John laughed. "Sorry, Spiderman joke. I meant Doctor Jordan."

"Don't forget," Grace said, wagging a finger at him.

He held up his hands. "I won't, I won't." A moment later he said "If you can keep a secret, I'll tell you something."

Intrigued, Grace sat down facing John. "Do tell."

"Well, actually, I need a piece of advice."

"Okay."

John smiled, his eyes sparkling. "What do you think of sapphires in engagement rings?"

Grace's mouth fell open slowly. "You mean?"

"I was thinking about proposing on her birthday," John said calmly.

Grace's features broke into a smile. "I can't believe it, you're really going to propose?"

John glanced around nervously. "Hey, keep it down. I haven't told anyone else."

"Okay," Grace said. "Let's see, her birthday is in two weeks, right?"

John nodded. "Just enough time to try and find the perfect ring. Which is what I needed your advice about."

"Sapphires," Grace repeated.

"Sapphires. The idea I had was for a ring like my grandmother's." He paused, knowing that Grace might be confused by the family connection. "My mother's mother, I mean."

Grace nodded. "What did it look like?"

"A single sapphire stone in the middle, with a solitaire diamond on each side."

Smiling, Grace replied, "It sounds beautiful. She'll love it."

"Are you sure it's not too soon?" John asked, suddenly not sure.

"If anything," Grace said, shaking her head, "you two defy tradition."

John smiled, "Thanks, Grace."

"Anytime. Now, about the Marshall case . . ."

***

"How's the Marshall case coming?" Sam asked a couple of nights later while she and John were watching television at her house. They had put Chloe to bed an hour earlier, and were enjoying the quiet time together. During rough times at work, when time alone was rare, they would often just sit on the couch and talk.

John glanced down at Sam, who was half laying on the couch with her head resting on his chest. He hugged his arm, which was across her shoulders, tighter. "I thought we decided to leave work at work?"

"I know," Sam said. "I just haven't heard much about that one since Bailey and I started working on our new case."

John leaned down and kissed Sam on the top of the head. "It's going fine. A little better than when I started on it. Grace thinks she found something with the last victim that we've been missing."

"I miss getting to work together on cases sometimes. It was the only chance we had to see each other there for a little while."

"I know," John said. "It'll get better soon."

"So," Sam said, trying to change the subject. "Who do you think will win?" she asked, pointing at the football game on television.

"Sam, you don't like football." John laughed, continuing to flip through the channels with his free hand. "Much less pro football."

Sam laughed, tickling his ribs for good measure. "I know, I was just curious." While trying to avoid her tickling hand, John stopped flipping channels. "What about watching this?" Sam asked after looking at the television.

"What is it?" John asked, relieved she had gotten distracted from tickling him. He followed her line of sight, to see what she was interested in watching.

"The History Channel," Sam explained. "Looks like something about ancient Egypt. Might be interesting."

John grinned. "Well, the company helps keep it interesting."

"John." Sam laughed and turned her head to face him. "Now, just what did you mean by that?"

"Who me?" he asked as innocently as he could manage, leaning down to steal a kiss. "How about that?"

Sam smiled. "Well, I liked that."

"More interesting than mummies?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Sam grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Leaves the mummies in the dust, I'd say."

John burst into laughter, just before kissing Sam again. "What do you say we bury the mummies?"

Sam play slapped John in the ribs. "How about we wrap up the mummy jokes?"

"But won't you be my mummy?" John baited, not quite laughing.

"That's neighbor," Sam corrected, "and no, I'd much rather be here." To prove her point, she pulled him into another very anything but platonic kiss.

When then kiss ended, John was grinning. He punched the power button on the remote and sat it down. "Good, I think I like you being here, too."

"Well," Sam said, pulling back a few inches. "That would be a good thing considering this is my house."

"Silly me," John said, laughing softly as Sam leaned forward to kiss him.

***

"We've got another one," John said, walking into the morgue to find Grace. It had been almost a week and a half since they had started working together on the case.

Grace looked up from where she was sitting at her desk. "Another one?"

John nodded with a glint in his eye. "But this time our killer was interrupted."

"We have a witness?" Grace asked, surprised. She moved to gather her evidence bag.

John shook his head. "According to what the local guys told me over the phone, the witness may not be much help, he's a local vagrant, rather well known for his drinking." John waited for Grace to finish gathering her supplies, and held the door open for them to walk through. "What I'm betting we've gained is evidence, Grace."

"Exactly." She smiled. "Maybe we've finally caught a break."

An hour later, John and Grace were at the crime scene. "It looks like we may have a print," Grace said when John walked up and kneeled beside her. "I'll have to get it back in the lab to be certain, but it's a chance.

"Anything else so far?" John asked. He had been busy talking with the man who had stumbled onto the gruesome scene, but as expected, he had been of little help.

Grace nodded her head. "Possible fibers in and around the throat."

"He didn't have time to tidy up this time," John said, his eyes cold.

"We may have just caught our break," Grace said, smiling for the first time about the Marshall case.

***

"Anything conclusive?" John asked, walking into Grace's office.

Grace looked up and waited for John to sit down. "I just finished the examination," she stated and handed John a folder. "I've already sent the print to George. As soon as we rule out that it doesn't belong to the homeless witness or victim, we have a definite starting point."

"That's the best news I've heard in days, Grace," John said, reading over the report. "What about the fibers?"

"That, I'm afraid, won't be as much help in tracking him down. It's a weave of rope that's common to saddleries."

John nodded. "It could be a start. We could cross match the prints to anyone on record that has business with any saddlery around the Athens area."

"Precisely."

"Now we just have to wait and see what George comes up with." John leaned back in the chair, still glancing over the notes.

Grace laughed, almost relieved. "Hurry up and wait time, in other words."

"Something like that." John grinned.

"So," Grace said. "Are you ready for next week?"

John rubbed his hands together. "Four more days, Grace."

"Do you have the ring yet?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not yet. I pick it up right after my physical."

"Good boy." Grace grinned. "You made an appointment."

"Yeah, well," John said, "as soon as I'm done there, I'm going to Mason's Jewelers to pick up the ring."

Just then, the phone on Grace's desk rang. She grabbed the phone. "Yes?" A moment later, she said, "Thanks, George."

"What did he say?" John asked before Grace had time to hang up the phone.

Grace finished hanging up the phone before she smiled. "We have a match."

"Let's go get him, then." John smiled, walking quickly out of the office.

***

Four days later, John was on the phone confirming their dinner reservations and playing with the ring he was going to give Sam that night. "Yes," he said into the phone, "two under Grant." After a pause, he said, "What do you mean you must have lost the reservation?"

As the maitre d' of the restaurant spoke, John interrupted him. "Yeah, whatever." Taking his aggravation out on the phone, he hung it up roughly.

John began to think about another way to work out his plan. Looking down at the fragile ring that he still held he carefully put it back in its box. "Time to improvise," he mumbled to himself.

It was Saturday afternoon, and Sam was spending the afternoon with Chloe before she and John went out to dinner that evening. Glancing at his watch, he discovered that he only had two hours to work with. Grabbing his car keys and her ring, he quickly left his apartment. He had an idea forming in his mind.

***

"Did you like the play, Mom?" Chloe asked, after they had left the theater.

Driving through downtown Atlanta, Sam smiled. "I liked it very much, Chlo. Thank you for thinking of it."

Chloe laughed. "Well, I wanted us to do something different this year, you know?"

"What do you say that we buy the book?" Sam asked. "We could read a chapter a night before you go to bed."

Chloe nodded eagerly. "I'd like that. It'd be like remembering the play all over again."

"Good, I'll pick it up one day next week, okay?" When Chloe nodded, Sam went on to say, "You do remember that Angel is coming to visit tonight, right?"

Chloe nodded again. "I remember. So you and John can go out." Chloe smiled. "Angel hasn't been to visit in forever, Mom."

"I know," Sam said. "So the two of you should have fun tonight."

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside the house. Angel was already there, waiting. Chloe jumped out of the car as soon as Sam killed the engine.

"Angel!" she called out, running up to her. "You're here!"

"Hey, Chlo," she said, bending over to give her a big hug. "How've you been?"

Smiling, Chloe took Angel's hand and led her into the house behind Sam. "I've been great," she said over her shoulder.

Once they were inside, Chloe ran upstairs to change out of her dress and into play clothes. While she was there, Angel and Sam talked in the living room.

"Happy birthday, Sam," she said, giving her a hug.

Sam smiled. "Thanks, Angel. It's been too long since you were here." She walked across the living room and dropped her purse in a chair.

"My art's really taken off," she said with a smile.

Sam looked over at her friend and smiled warmly. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you."

Instead of smiling, Angel's face grew serious. "So it's serious between you two?"

Knowing instinctively what she was referring to, Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's serious."

"You know what I told you about him, Sam." Angel laid a hand on Sam's arm. "He's not a one woman kind of guy. He sees commitment and he bolts."

"I know you two had problems, Angel," Sam said, smiling faintly. "But we've been great."

Angel smiled. "Then I wish you the best. I only want you to be happy."

"That's what John makes me."

***

When John pulled up in Sam's driveway, he recognized Angel's car. After walking up to the door, he rang the doorbell and waited.

"John," Angel said when she opened the door. "Come in," she added, standing aside.

John smiled, doing his best to be polite. "How've you been, Angel?"

"Better," she smiled. "Thanks."

"Is Sam ready?" he asked tentatively.

"She's right here," Sam said from the stairs, with Chloe standing next to her. Looking down at John in his suit, Sam couldn't help smiling. "You look nice."

"Yeah, John," Chloe agreed, "You look handsome."

With a smile to match Sam's, John winked at Chloe. "Why thank you little one." He turned his gaze to Sam, wide-eyed. "You look wonderful, yourself." He had a hard time tearing his eyes away from Sam, dressed in a spaghetti strap, navy blue satin dress.

After walking down the rest of the stairs, Sam crossed the living room. "So are you going to tell me where we're going?"

John grinned, shaking his head. "Not just yet. Are you ready?" When Sam nodded, he held out his elbow formally. "Then your chariot awaits."

Sam laughed, and looked over at Angel and Chloe. "Thanks for your help, I'll see you two later tonight."

Angel nodded and smiled faintly. "Have a good time."

"Bye Mom, bye John," Chloe said, smiling brightly and waving.

***

They had been driving for about fifteen minutes when Sam spoke. "Where are we going? This road doesn't go into town."

John laughed. "You're quite the impatient one tonight, aren't you?"

"What can I say, you've piqued my curiosity," she said, smiling.

Shifting gears as he made a turn, John replied, "Well, too bad. Tonight you just have to wait."

Ten minutes later, Sam realized where they were going. "The cabin?"

"Maybe," was all he would say.

When they arrived at the cabin, it was well past dark. From the outside, though, the interior of the cabin seemed to be glowing. "John?" she asked, as he took her hand and led her to the cabin.

Walking up on the porch, John unlocked the door and waited for Sam to walk inside. He smiled when he heard her gasp in surprise. "It's beautiful."

John followed her inside and closed the door behind them. Walking up behind her, he rested his hands on her shoulders. "Happy birthday, Sam," he whispered, dropping a kiss onto her collarbone.

"How did you manage this?" she asked, awe still in her voice. Walking into the interior of the room, Sam found herself surrounded by what looked like hundreds of white candles. A white sheet of paper laying on the coffee table caught her attention. "What's this?" she said to herself. Scanning the note, she smiled, and turned to John. "'Have a wonderful night, Love Grace'?" she read aloud.

John grinned sheepishly. "Well, I needed the help."

"I can't believe you went to all this trouble," Sam said.

Walking over to where she stood, John pulled her into an embrace from behind. "You're worth it." A moment later, he let go and walked over to the counter. Sitting there were two freshly chilled glasses of champagne. John handed her one of the flutes. "A toast?"

Taking the offered glass, she smiled. "How about to happiness?"

"To us." They clinked glasses and took a drink.

Sam sat her glass down on the coffee table. She put her arms around John's neck, and he also sat his glass down. "Thank you for tonight. This is wonderful." Leaning her head forward, their lips met in a gentle kiss.

When John pulled back, he snuck a hand into his jacket pocket and felt the familiar band that rested there. "There's one more thing."

"What else could you do?" Sam asked, leaning back. "This is perfect."

A slow, nervous smile spread across John's face. "Come here," he said, and lead her to a chair. "Sit," he added, a confused smile on her face, she complied.

"What is it?" she asked.

His stomach fluttering, John slowly lowered himself down onto one knee, so that he was kneeling in front of Sam. "I don't know how you feel about me," he began, his nervousness echoing in his voice. "But I know that I don't want to imagine tomorrow without you."

Carefully, he pulled the ring from his pocket and held it out for Sam to see. The candlelight glinted off the trio of stones as he asked, "Will you marry me?"

Sam's mouth dropped open, and from the moisture that had filled her eyes, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She tied to speak, but nodded instead.

After John slipped the ring onto her finger, she wrapped her arms around his chest. "I love you, John," she managed to say.

His own eyes glinting with moisture, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let go of a relived, shaky breath. "I think I've waited my whole life to hear that."

***

They drove home later that night, but it was the next morning before they told Chloe. Although Angel had spent the night, she left soon after Chloe woke up.

"Hi John," Chloe said after walking down stairs. "Are you here to eat breakfast with us?"

John smiled and picked Chloe up in a giant hug. "Sure am, kiddo." After he let her down, Sam walked into the room.

"Hey, Chlo," she said, smiling.

Chloe grinned. "How did your birthday surprise go?" she asked eagerly.

Sam glanced from Chloe to John, caught off guard by her question. "Just how much did you know?" Sam asked, smiling.

Chloe looked up at John, and back at her mom. She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I had to ask someone's permission, didn't I?" John asked with a grin.

"Chloe, you knew all along?" Sam asked, shocked. When Chloe nodded her head, Sam laughed. "You kept your secret very well." Glancing at John, she asked, "What I if I had said no?"

"Chloe and I discussed that too, didn't we, little one?" John said.

Again, Sam looked back and forth between Chloe and John. "I can't believe you two," she said good-naturedly. Walking over to sit next to Chloe, Sam asked, "And what do you think about all of this?"

Chole beamed. "I like it!"

"Then I'm glad we all agree," Sam said, tickling Chloe.

From where he stood watching Sam play with Chloe, John asked, "Are you two ladies ready for breakfast?"

"I am!" Chloe cried, jumping up and running into the kitchen.

Sam walked over to John, and leaned into his offered embrace. "Happy?" John asked.

Sam smiled, holding him tighter for a moment. "Very."

***

Monday morning, Grace was waiting for Sam outside her office. "So?" the older woman asked. "Tell me how it went."

Unlocking the door, Sam cut Grace a sideways glance. She laughed, rolling her eyes. "You knew more than I did most of the time."

Grace smiled. "Well, John needed a little assistance. And some moral support."

"Thank you." Sam sat down at behind her desk. "Somehow I don't doubt it about the moral support," she added, her eyes sparkling.

"You're welcome," Grace said shortly. "First things first, I want to see this ring I've heard so much about." Sam held her left hand out. "Sam, it's beautiful."

"I know." She pulled her hand back, glancing at the ring. Meeting Grace's gaze, she smiled softly. "The whole evening was, actually."

"Were you surprised?"

"That hardly describes it." Sam laughed, thinking back to his proposal. "And to think you and Chloe both knew before I did."

"Yeah, well," Grace said, a smirk on her face. "Had to make sure it happened right, I suppose." She paused for a moment. "Have you told Bailey yet?"

Sam shook her head, standing. "Actualy I'm going to his office once I fill you full of gossip."

"Gossip?" Grace looked at her with a mock-hurt look on her face. "Is that what you think of me?"

Sam laughed. "You and George, yes."

Smiling, Grace pulled Sam into a warm hug. "Congratulations, honey." Pulling away, she added, "I'm sure you'll be very happy."

"Thanks, Grace." Grace turned to leave, pausing when Sam spoke again. "Thanks for everything." Grace nodded in acknowledgment and walked out of the office.

A few moments later, Sam knocked on Bailey's door. "Come in," Bailey called out from inside.

Sam opened the door, pushing it closed behind her. "Hi, Bailey."

Bailey looked up. "Morning, Sam." Seeing the smile on Sam's face, he smiled in return. "Why are you so happy? Have a good birthday?"

Sam nodded, and walked over to stand in front of Bailey's desk. She held out her left hand. "I guess you could say so."

Seeing the ring and the expression on Sam's face, Bailey smiled and stood. After walking around the desk he gave her a hug. "Congratulations, Sammy."

"Thanks, Bailey."

Bailey pulled away, still smiling. "I'm sure you'll be very happy together." Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. "So, when is the wedding?"

"We're thinking in about six months."

Bailey nodded. "An early spring wedding then. It'll be beautiful here that time of year." Bailey paused, turning serious. "What does Chloe think of all this?"

"She knew he was going to propose before I did. In short," Sam laughed. "She's thrilled."

"I'm glad, Sam. I'm happy for you."

Sam's smile brightened. "Thanks, Bailey."

***

"You finally did it." George looked at John with an unbelieving grin on his face. When John nodded, George clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, man. About time, I might add."

John laughed. "I'm glad you and Grace were so secure. I can't say that I shared that feeling."

"Ah, there was never any doubt, other than the question of if you'd ever ask." George replied with a smirk. "So, when is the wedding going to be?"

"In about six months, but she hasn't picked a date yet."

Sam, having walked up from behind John, asked, "And what she would that be?"

John was startled by the unexpected comment, but recovered quickly. "Chloe, actually," John answered with a baiting grin.

"By all means, then." Sam laughed. "Seriously, though, how about the first part of April?"

John managed to not roll his eyes, but just barely. "Whatever you think works best."

"Wow, you weren't always this agreeable." She kidded John, play-punching him on the arm.

George grinned. "Yeah, this is doing wonders for your personality, buddy. Maybe you should've done this years ago."

Sam looked at George, smiling at his jesting comment. "Did you ask him?"

"Ask him what?" George asked, looking from John to Sam and back to John.

John grinned sheepishly at George. "Well, it would seem as if I'm in need of a best man."

"Me?" George asked, disbelief written on his face.

Shrugging, John did roll his eyes then. "Yeah, you. That so bad?"

"What about Nate?"

John's smile dimmed somewhat at George's mention of Nathan. "Nathan won't be able to make it. It's a long story." Forcing a grin, he added, "Probably take exactly two hours to tell."

Recognizing the diversionary tactic, George smiled and nodded. "Then I'd be honored."

John turned to Sam. "Did you talk to Grace?"

Sam nodded. "I've talked to her, but I didn't get a chance ask her yet." She took John's hand in her own. "Want to come with me?"

"Why not," John commented, already following her, George laughing behind them.

***

They found Grace in her office, as they usually did. Walking into the controlled chaos, Sam smiled. "I've got a question for you."

"Shoot." She smiled as she watched Sam and John approach together, hand in hand.

"I was wondering if you would be my maid of honor at the wedding."

Grace smiled, her surprise showing. "I'd be delighted, but what about Angel?"

"She can't make it," was Sam's simple explanation. Before she had left, Angel had again tried to convince Sam that John was bad news, and they not had parted on the best of terms.

Grace nodded, understanding the truth behind her words. "I'm sorry."

Before Sam could respond, Grace's phone rang. "Hello?" she said into the receiver. She glanced at John. "Just a minute. He's right here."

"Who is it?" John asked, taking the offered phone.

"Someone from Doctor Jordan's office. You didn't forget about your physical, did you?"

John shook his head, and covered the mouthpiece. "No, ma'am. I went like a good little boy."

Sam and Grace continued to speak while John ducked off to the side to speak with the nurse. During the conversation, Sam kept casting sideways glances at John. He walked back over to them when he got off the phone. Sam looked at him, concnerend. "Is everything all right?"

John nodded. "I'm sure. They just want to go over some of the test results." This sounded odd to both Sam and Grace, but John brushed it off. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Sam tried to smile, and he squeezed her hand.

He shook his head. "No thanks, you stay here. I shouldn't be gone that long."

Grace stood off to the side and watched as they spoke in lowered voices. She could see the concern on Sam's face as they spoke.

"I'll be back before long." John gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I love you."

"Love you, too," she whispered, watching as he walked away.

After John was gone, Grace walked over to stand beside Sam. "Are you okay?"

Sam glanced at Grace's concerned face. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Grace."

"I know, sweetie." Grace gave her a hug, trying to be supportive. "But I'm sure it will be okay."

Sam nodded, but didn't say anything.

***

Upon arriving at the doctor's office, John was shown into an examination room and asked to wait. Several minutes later, Doctor Jordan stuck his head into the room. "Agent Grant, I'm glad you could come."

"The nurse made it sound important." He had been nervous ever since he spoke with the nurse, even though he had done his best to keep it from Sam.

The doctor nodded. "It may be, it may not. The truth is we need to run another test. Your blood work returned some odd results."

John's mouth was dry, and he swallowed fretfully and cleared his throat. "What kind of results?"

"You need to understand that it's entirely possible that the blood work is misleading. That's why we need the additional test," the doctor reiterated.

John took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "What do you think it might be?"

The doctor sighed. "I'm afraid I need to refer you to an oncologist, Agent Grant."

He froze, hoping he had heard the doctor wrong even while knowing he hadn't. "An oncologist," John repeated, blinking slowly. "But those are the doctor's that deal with cancer."

Doctor Jordan nodded gravely. "It's possible that you're suffering from a form of lymphoma."

Shock broke through the frozen John's frozen features. "What?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"There is a good doctor here in the building, Doctor Thompson. I've spoken with him. He's agreed to take on your case, should there be a need for it. He'll have to perform a lymph node biopsy to determine whether or not you are actually sick. Please understand this, Agent Grant."

John nodded, his face pale. "When?"

Doctor Jordan glanced at the clock. "He said he could see you in about fifteen minutes if that's all right."

"Okay," John replied, nodding quickly. Standing, he grabbed his jacket. "Where do I need to go?"

"Right this way." Doctor Jordan lead John from the office.

***

Once he had been shown to Doctor Thompson's office by a nurse, he was led to an exam room. A few minutes later, a middle aged man entered. "Agent Grant," he said, holding out his hand. "Doctor Thompson."

John nodded, and shook his hand. "Doctor Thompson." He paused for a second before asking, "This won't take long will it?"

Thompson shook his head. "No, I can take the sample rather easily."

"Will it show?" John asked, not meeting the doctor's gaze.

Confused by the question, Thompson asked, "Excuse me?"

John rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Will it leave a mark? I don't want anyone to know."

Doctor Thompson shook his head. "No, I can take the sample without leaving a noticable mark."

His jaw clenched, one muscle along his chin quivering. "Then let's get it over with."

The doctor nodded. "I'll be back in just a moment then."

When Doctor Thompson returned, he was accompanied by a nurse carrying a tray of equipment. "I'll have to apply a local anaesthetic, Agent Grant." Guessing John's next concern, he amended his statement. "However, nothing so extreme as to cause you any trouble functioning after we're done. You will be able to drive yourself."

John nodded, but stayed silent. Within moments the procedure was complete. "I'll have this run through the lab. I should know something by the end of the week."

"Thank you, doctor," was all John could think to say, trying not to think about the wait for those results.

Knowing that Sam would be anxious for him to return, John did his best on the drive back to work to act as normally as possible. He wasn't sure what to tell Sam. He wasn't sure when to tell her.

Finally, when he was almost back to the office, he forced himself to admit that he wasn't sure if he should tell her at all.

***

When John got back to work he headed directly to Sam's office. Knocking on the door, he walked in before Sam could say anything.

"How did it go?" She didn't missing the pale, shaken look he carried.

John shook his head. "He just wanted to go over a few things. Nothing vital."

"Then why do you look upset?" Sam asked, her professional eye trained on him.

"I think he just spooked me more than anything." John shrugged, managing to smile. "So how were things here while I was gone?"

"Just the usual routine," Sam said, still suspicious. "Bailey asked why you weren't at the meeting, but I cleared it with him."

John nodded. "Thanks, Sam."

"You don't have to thank me," she said, "we're here for each other. Like we're supposed to be."

John smiled, and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad." Pulling back, he grinned. "Now, I have to get to work."

Sam nodded, still not convinced, but willing to play along with his game -- for the time being. "Okay, I'll meet you for lunch."

"I'll be there," he said, and walked out of her office.

Sitting at his desk, John did his best to look as if he were searching through reports and papers. Inside, however, he was trying to sort through boiling emotions. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was more than obvious that Sam was suspicious of what was really going on.

A quick glance back at her office and he immediately felt horrible. Keeping it a secret from her for the week was going to be one of the hardest things he had done in as long as he could remember. Yet all it took to steel his will was to think of how much Sam had been hurt when Tom had been taken away from her.

He was going to be damned if he caused her that kind of pain, too.

***

During the week while he waited in a personal hell for the biopsy results, John's saving grace was Chloe. She distracted him whenever he grew too somber and allowed him an out when the burden of his secret became too heavy.

At work he was able to stay busy enough to forget about the test for hours at a time. It was a similar distraction that came over him whenever he and Sam would spend time together. As scared as he was about whether or not to tell her, he was even more determined to enjoy every moment with her.

"You know what I want to watch?" John said with a grin late Thursday night.

Sam smiled. As the week had progressed, the nagging concern in the back of her mind had lessened. Although it was still there, it had faded. "What's that?"

John smiled, almost embarrassed. "Little Women."

Sam laughed in surprise. "Are you serious? I thought you hated it."

"And here I always thought of it as our movie," John retorted dead-pan.

"Not Star Wars?" Sam asked, laughing.

"Nah." He settled down on the couch next to Sam. "That's mine and Chloe's movie."

Sam stood up and walked over to the entertainment center. She found Little Women in the video case and plugged it into the VCR. Walking back over to the couch, she settled down next to John as had become their habit. "I can't believe you want to watch this," she said with a laugh.

"Life's an adventure," John kidded with a laugh, kissing her on the temple. "This is just one part of it."

"I never thought of watching Little Women as an adventure." She couldn't help her continued laughter.

John laughed deep in his throat, the sound echoing against Sam's ear. "That's because you're a girl."

"Oh, well, then," Sam said sarcastically. "I guess that explains it."

John smirked. "Sure it does."

They stayed up late that night, cuddled together on the couch - John's arms wrapped around Sam's shoulders. First watching first Little Women, then they watched whatever happened to be on television.

In the calm quiet, neither moving nor speaking, John suddenly found himself not wanting to go to sleep. He longed to stay as close to Sam as possible, for as long as possible.

She fell asleep, her head resting against his chest. John sat there, motionless, except for steadily brushing her hair with his hand. For the moment, he was content to stay there and watch her dream.

***

The next morning, John was sitting at his desk when the telephone rang.

"Grant," he said, putting down the paper he was reading. He listened for a second. "Thanks, I'll be there in a half an hour." A second later he hung up the phone.

Closing the folder he was using, John stood and walked to Bailey's office. He knocked on the door, and walked into the office. "Yes, John?" Bailey asked, looking up at the younger agent.

"I've got to go check into something," he said vaguely, silently hoping Bailey wouldn't ask too many questions. "I'll be back in an hour or two."

Bailey nodded, sensing that something was happening that John wasn't telling him. "Okay. Just take an early lunch."

John tilted his head, but wasn't going to pass up the easy offer. "Thanks, Bailey." He walked out of the office without a look back.

The drive to the doctor's office seemed to stretch out in front of him. After fighting the busy Atlanta traffic, John was feeling frustrated and angry. Arriving at the medical building, he was glad to be able to park the car and get out.

While he was in the waiting room, he tried to read one of the year old Time magazines but couldn't concentrate. When a nurse walked into the waiting area and called his name, John jumped in his seat. Quickly regaining his composure, he stood and followed the young nurse into the doctor's personal office.

"Agent Grant, please have a seat," Doctor Thompson said, gesturing toward a chair.

John shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to read anything in the doctor's face. Shaking his head, he walked over and sat in one the offered chair. "The nurse said you had the test results?" Even as he asked, John wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

The doctor nodded. "I knew you would want to know as soon as possible." The doctor glanced over the lab results printout on his desk. "I'm sorry," he said finally.

John thought his world had slid to a halt. He blinked and swallowed nervously. "It's positive?" he managed to ask, his voice dry.

Doctor Thompson cleared his throat. "The biopsy tested positive for non-Hodgkin's lymphoma."

"So what does that mean, exactly?" John asked. He paused. "And why has it never been found before?" Something close to anger was growing inside him, he needed to feel in control but couldn't.

The doctor closed the file and folded his hands together. "What you have is a highly aggressive form of lymphoma. It was most likely never diagnosed before, simply because it wasn't there."

"What caused it?" John asked, his eyes unfocused and staring at nothing.

"The current belief is that a leading cause is the toxins and pollution in air and water." John didn't respond and the doctor continued. "And as for what we do next, we have a few options."

John nodded, licking his lips nervously. "You mean like chemotherapy."

"That's one option." Thompson nodded. "However, I would like to take the Watch and Wait approach with you for the time being."

"You mean just give up?" John asked, his voice rising. He was holding onto the arm rests of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. "That there's no way to beat this?"

Doctor Thompson shook his head, hoping to reassured him. "No, it's a type of treatment. We wait until you reach a certain point and then attack the disease with chemotherapy. Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma is curable disease, Agent Grant. Although not one hundred percent of the time, the percentages are quite good."

"And this works?" John asked, disbelievingly.

"It has been known to." The doctor nodded his head.

John thought for a moment. His thoughts were racing between what the doctor had told him, and the future he and Sam had already began planning. "How long would we have to wait?"

It was a moment before the doctor responded. "It varies from case to case. Judging by the state of growth now, and I'll need to check you again today," he noted. "We'll compare the two results. Then we'll have a better idea how fast this is growing."

"Then do it," John said, wanting to get the procedure over with.

Doctor Thompson nodded. "Right this way, Nurse Simmons will show you to an exam room."

***

That weekend, Chloe was playing in a school basketball tournament, and again, John was able to push the worry over what Doctor Thompson had told him to the back of his mind.

"Way to go, kiddo!" John said, giving Chloe a high five as she rushed out of the locker room to find John and her mom.

Chole grinned. "That was fun!" Taking John's hand, she looked up at him. "Thanks for helping me with my shot a last weekend."

"You're welcome." John smiled with a wink. "Ready to go find your mom?" When Chloe nodded, he leaned down and whispered, "What do you say we go for ice cream to celebrate?"

"Can we?" Chloe asked, surprised. "We haven't had dinner yet."

John and Chloe were walking toward the bleachers when John said, "Sometimes you've just got to eat dessert first, kiddo."

"There you two are," Sam said, walking over to them. She took John's offered hand. "Chloe I was just talking to Amy's mom, she said to tell you that you played great."

Chloe was beaming. "Well, it's only because John helped me."

"Yeah, well," Sam said, a twinkle in her eye. Leaning down to Chloe she whispered conspiratorially, "He has his uses, doesn't he?"

As they walked to the car, John couldn't help the grin on his face. There were still times he was surprised by being part of a family again. Laughing he squeezed Sam's hand. "I guess there's a reason to keep me then, huh?"

Unlocking the car door, Sam laughed and turned to look at John. "I think the warranty is gone now anyway, I'm stuck with you." After Chloe climbed in the back seat, Sam closed the door. Getting in the passenger seat, Sam was surprised when John leaned over and kissed her. "What was that for?" she asked with a smile.

John cocked his head to the side. "Do I need a reason?"

"No," she said, pulling on her seat belt. "I suppose not."

Giggles erupted from the back seat. "Come on, John. You said we were going for ice cream."

Sam turned and looked at John, one eye brow slightly raised. "And since when do we eat ice cream before dinner?"

Pulling out of the parking lot, John grinned. "Since we're celebrating."

"Yeah, Mom," Chloe chimed in from the back seat with a laugh. "We're celebrating."

Glancing back at Chloe, Sam managed a serious look before laughing. "Then I guess I'm out numbered, huh?"

"Yep!" Chloe said, and smiled at John, who smiled back at her in the rearview mirror.

***

Monday John found himself again sitting in the doctors office. He had taken his lunch break to sneak away from the office to speak with Doctor Thompson.

The doctor waited untill they were both seated and began. "I think what I mentioned to you on Friday is our best bet."

John nodded. "The test results?"

"It's growing at a rate about what I expected. My feeling is that the best course of action would be to wait and then hit it with the chemo."

"About how long until I would have to start?"

Glancing over the paperwork, Doctor Thompson removed his glasses. "I'll watch the progression of the disease, but my best guess right now, is about four months."

"Four months," John repeated, his voice empty. The words echoed in his mind. "Thank you doctor," he said, standing up to leave.

"Wait, Agent Grant," the doctor said, standing. John turned around, and the doctor observed him for a moment. "You'll have to come back in for check-ups, so that we can monitor you. You can schedule them with Nurse Simmons."

John nodded, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "Then I guess I'll be seeing you then."

John left the medical building and spent the rest of his lunch break in a park near the office. He walked around, trying to decide what to do. He knew he would fight it, he had never been one to quit and he wasn't about to start.

Sam was another matter. Most of the time he spent walking wasn't spent thinking about his health, or the chemotherapy that awaited him. Instead, he found himself discovering a renewed effort to make the most of the next four months.

In that moment, he decided not to tell her for the time being. He was haunted still by the thought of hurting her the way Tom's death had. When the time came, he knew, he would make the choice that hurt her and Chloe the least. He just wished he didn't have to do it.

***

For the next few weeks, life went on for Sam and John. Using varied excuses, John continued to make his appointments with Doctor Thompson. Once a week, John went to the office and the progression of the disease was noted. It was all building up to the inevitable day when Doctor Thompson thought it was best to start the chemotherapy. The only real difference John could see, was that he tired more easily.

During the second month of John's waiting period, the caseload at the VCTF was steady, but not nearly as smothering as it had been while John and Sam had first been dating. For the moment, Sam, Bailey and George were in Nebraska working on a case, while John and Grace remained in Atlanta, helping out on a local investigation.

"How's everything at home?" Sam asked, her voice echoing over the phone. Since they had flown to Nebraska, she and John had spoken on the phone each night.

John shrugged unconsciously. "About the same as before. I'm not even sure why I'm working on it. The local boys are doing a pretty good job without a babysitter."

"I believe," Sam reminded him, "that you're there to help Grace." Sitting on the bed in her hotel room, Sam twirled the telephone cord around her finger. "Remember?"

"An explanation that makes no sense, but yes I remember," John said, a hint of humor in his voice.

Sam laughed softly, and changed the subject. "How's Chloe?"

"She's great. Although I think she is ready for you to come back as much as I am."

"What, is your impromptu slumber party getting boring?" Sam kidded.

John took the bait and laughed. "Well, we've already had the water balloon fight in the living room. And I think she's eaten all the chocolate I can lay my hands on." He paused, and glanced toward the upstairs before saying. "What else is left to do?"

"Sometimes I wonder who the grown up is," Sam joked, laughing.

John stood up, and began to walk around the quiet living room. It was after Chloe's bed time and his voice was the only noise to be heard. "That would be you, I believe," he replied, glancing out of a window. "You can't tell me you don't agree."

"You're awful." She laughed, just listening to the sound of his voice. She had stopped playing with the phone cord, and was instead absent-mindedly playing with her engagement ring. "But I love you," she said softly.

John could see his reflection in the windowpane, complete with a sad smile on his face. "I know," he said, almost in a whisper. "I love you, too."

Sam sighed, able to hear a distant air in John's voice. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm just tired of doing all the work back here by myself," he joked, forcing a laugh and avoiding her question. In truth, he wished she wasn't so far away while he was still feeling fairly well.

Sam laughed half-heartedly. "I'm not so sure Grace would agree with you."

"You women always stick together," he muttered around a laugh.

Sam smiled, glad to hear a true humor back in his voice. "And you men just love to complain about it."

John thought for a minute. "You haven't mentioned how your case is coming."

"I've come up with a profile, it's just fitting the name to the description at this point." Leaning back onto the pillows, Sam yawned before continuing. "Although George thinks he's got a lead. We should know more in the morning."

John let the curtains fall closed and walked back over to the couch. "It sounds like I should let you go so you can get some sleep."

"It's all right," Sam said, stifling another yawn behind her hand. "I'm fine. That is, unless you need to go get your beauty sleep."

John could hear Sam laugh, and smiled. "Are you implying I need beauty sleep, Sam?"

"Never," she kidded. "I promise. You're perfect."

Grinning, John began to laugh. "Well, I guess I have to trust your judgement. After all, I do love listening to my adoring public."

"Everyone needs a groupie, I suppose." She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Or an ego, and you've definitely got the second one covered."

Laying down on the couch, John propped the phone up against his cheek. "Ouch, she shoots and she scores."

They were both silent for a few long minutes, listening to little but the other breathing. "I better go."

John replied, a smile on his face. "Have good dreams."

"Love you. Good night."

"'Night, Sam. Love you, too."

John listened to the click on the line as Sam hung up the phone. After a moment, he turned the phone off and dropped it on the coffee table. Without meaning to, he dozed off on the couch.

The next thing John knew, he was hearing sounds coming from the kitchen. Alert, he sat up slowly. The first thing he noticed was that it was morning, the second thing he saw was Chloe, in her pajamas, standing in the kitchen doorway.

"I made breakfast!" she announced. "Come on, you've got to eat if you want to get to work on time."

Grinning, John followed Chloe back into the kitchen. "And what are we having this morning, kiddo?"

"Toast," she said, handing John a plate. "It's the only thing I can make." She took a bite out of a piece, a thoughtful look on her face. Chloe looked at John, who had sat down beside her at the table. "You've got dark circles under your eyes."

"Think your mom would mind me borrowing her makeup?" John joked, a grin on his face. The truth was, he was staying tired, and the circles seemed to be a result.

Chloe laughed. "Probably as long as you don't use her lipstick."

"Thanks for the warning," he replied, finishing his toast. "Now, speaking of being late. Shouldn't you get dressed, too?"

"I'm going, I'm going," she said, putting her plate in the sink. "You sound just like Mom." Giggling, she ran up to her room.

Half an hour later, Chloe had just left for the bus stop and John had just finished getting dressed. He was about to walk out the door when the phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

"We've got another one," Grace said over the phone. "Can you meet me at the crime scene?"

"Just tell me where," he said, grabbing his jacket. "I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said after she gave him the address.

***

They had been at the crime scene for almost an hour when Grace glanced at the darkening sky. "It looks like it's going to rain."

After a quick glance skyward, John nodded his head. "How soon can we move the body? The last thing we need is something washing away."

"Give me ten minutes and I think I'll have it stabilized." She glanced around at the uniformed officers on the scene. "Have the local guys had time to go over the site?" she asked, kneeling next to the body.

"I think so," John replied. "Hold on, I'll find out where we stand." John walked through the officers, and returned after speaking with the officer in charge. "Jim thinks they're about done," he said, kneeling next to Grace.

Nodding, Grace stood. The rain that had been threatening finally began to fall. "I'll go tell them to bring the stretcher."

"What's that?" John muttered, spotting something lying not far from the body. Whatever it was, it was stuck. When John reached to tug on it with both hands, he felt a prick on his right hand. "Damn," he swore, his hand recoiling.

"What's wrong?" Grace asked, as the body was loaded up for transport.

John shook his hand. "I saw something, or I thought I saw something. When I tried to pick it up, something jabbed me."

Kneeling down, Grace looked at where John had broken the piece of metal free. "It looks like it might be something, but I have no idea what it was stuck to." Pulling out an evidence bag, she dropped it inside. Looking around for what had stuck John, she finally saw the culprit.

She picked up an old syringe, holding it for John to see. "You should be more careful, John." Her eyes were open wide as she glanced up at John. "This could be serious."

John's eyes widened and his breath caught for a second. He found himself wondering if things could get any worse.

"Did it break through your glove?" Grace asked, referring to the thick latex gloves they all wore at crime scenes.

Looking closely at his hand, John nodded. "Enough to barely scratch me."

"When we get back to the office, I'll take a blood sample and make sure you're all right," Grace said, placing the syringe into another evidence bag. "Sam will kill me if I let something happen to you while she's away." Although trying to smile, she wasn't able to pull it off.

Realization struck John just as Grace turned to walk to her car. If she did a blood work up, she was likely to find out his secret. "That's okay, Grace," he said quickly, walking fast to catch up with her. "I'll just get my doctor to check it out."

Opening her car door, Grace replied, "There's no reason to go to that kind of trouble John, I can do the test just as easy. I can probably get the results faster."

"Grace . . ." Even while he tried to protest, John recognized the stubborn look on Grace's face.

Getting into her car, she said, "No arguments, John. I'll see you back at the office in five minutes." After another moment, she closed her door before John could respond.

***

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Grace asked, putting a band-aid on John's arm.

John smiled, silently hoping that she wouldn't do a complete work up on the sample she had just drawn. "Nope, little needle like that doesn't scare me."

Grace laughed. "I should hope not. It's the other kind that are scary."

Although he knew she was referring to the needle from the crime scene, it was yet another type of needle that he immediately thought of. The kind that Doctor Thompson used when he checked him every week.

Grace looked at John, who was lost in thought, for a moment. She patted his arm. "I'll get on this right away and let you know what I find. Okay?"

John nodded. "Thanks, Grace." With that, he picked up his jacket and walked back to his desk.

John was still sitting at his desk when Grace walked up and dropped a folder onto the desk's surface. "What did Doctor Jordan want to talk to you about after your physical?" Her voice was confrontational, her hands on her hips.

Glancing up at Grace, John rubbed his eyes tiredly. "So I didn't test positive for HIV?"

Shaking her head, Grace pulled a chair over from an empty desk and said, "No, and neither did the needle that stuck you. So you shouldn't have to retest in the future." Grace waited a moment, letting that news sink in. "So? Are you going to tell me, or not?"

John recognized the determined posture that Grace was presenting him with, but he also was able to read the concern in her dark eyes. "He called because of something that showed up in the blood work from my physical."

"And?" Grace asked, although she already knew the answer.

"And . . ." John looked at his hands for a moment before meeting Grace's gaze. "He sent me to an oncologist, Doctor Thompson, who did another test. Which came back positive for non-Hodgkin's lymphoma."

Although what she had seen in the blood sample she had drawn had told her this might be the case, she wasn't prepared to hear him admit it. "John . . ." Her mouth dropped open, and her hands fell to her sides. "I'm sorry." John nodded, but didn't say anything. "When do you go for treatment?"

"In about two more months I should start chemotherapy," he said, sitting back in his chair, but keeping his voice low. "Until then, we wait."

"How's Sam taking it?" she asked. "She's kept as quiet as you have."

John smiled sadly and shook his head. "She doesn't know, Grace. And I intend to keep it that way."

"John Grant, how dare you!" Grace said forcefully and loudly. John made frantic shushing noises with his hands, and she dropped her voice. "How can you keep something this important from your fiance?"

"I just can't tell her, Grace," he said, shaking his head. "I'd do anything not to hurt her."

Grace blinked slowly, and took a deep breath, trying to calm down, before replying. "That includes lying to her?"

"She's happy." He tried to explain, but doubted Grace would see the logic behind his action. "I want her to be happy for as long as possible."

"That's sweet John," Grace said, her voice betraying her shock. "However, when is she going to find out?" She fought the urge to start pacing. "When you go into the hospital? When you come home with your hair falling out from treatment? This isn't something you can hide."

"I haven't thought that far ahead."

Grace sighed, placing her hand on John's arm. "She loves you, John. Let her be there for you. You'll only hurt her more in the end if you shut her out."

Blinking, John said, "I refuse to hurt her the way Tom did, Grace. I'll do whatever I have to, to make sure that doesn't happen."

"It's not fair, John. To her, to Chloe or to you. You shouldn't have to deal with this alone."

John laughed humorlessly. "Tell me about it, Grace. I finally find a life I love and two days later I find out that I might lose it." He smirked, a cold humor in his eyes. "Life's a bitch, isn't it?"

Grace closed her eyes. "You should tell her." She paused, running a hand over her face. "John, now that I know, *I* should tell her."

"You can't." His voice radiating alarm, John half jumped out of his seat. "If anyone tells her, it has to be me."

Grace sat there a minute before nodding. "You're right about that. However, she deserves to know, and you don't plan to tell her. You're lucky that Sam's in Nebraska, or I probably would have brought this up with both of you."

John nodded, and sat up straight in his chair, with his elbows resting on his knees. "No one wishes she was here more than I do Grace. The longer she's away the more time I feel like I've lost."

***

"Hey there stranger," Sam said, walking up to John at his desk. It had been a week since Grace had found out about his being sick and the case in Nebraska had just ended.

Looking up, John's face broke into a smile. "Hey there, yourself." Standing, he pulled Sam into a warm hug. "I missed you," he said quietly.

Sam smiled, John's quiet side still surprised her occasionally. "I missed you, too." Pulling from the embrace, Sam asked, "Want to go to lunch?"

John nodded. "Just let me grab my jacket and we'll go."

"Good, meet me in my office, okay?"

As he watched her walk to her office, John smiled. He felt better just by having her back home. A few seconds later, John knocked on Sam's door. "Ready to go?"

"Let's go."

Conversation during lunch was light, each of them enjoying the chance to be together in person again. "I was thinking," John said, taking a bite of his hamburger. "Maybe you, Chlo and me should go out tonight. Kinda a welcome home thing."

Sam took a sip of her iced tea before responding. "I was more looking forward to a night at home, just the three of us."

John smiled. "That sounds great, too. I know Chloe will be happy you're home."

"I'll be glad to see her, too," Sam said. "But I'll admit I didn't feel as bad being away for so long since you were here." She took a bite of her caesar salad. "Did you two have a good time? Is the house still standing?"

"No, Mom, we didn't have any parties and the house is still in one piece," he said with a laugh, and took a drink of his Coke. "Sam, she's a great kid and we had fun. That doesn't mean we're not glad you're back."

Sam smiled. "Thank you."

***

A few hours later, dinner was over and Sam, Chloe and John settled down to watch a movie. "What did you rent?" Chloe asked, looking up at John.

Pressing play on the remote, John pointed at Sam. "I didn't pick it out, your mom did."

"Well, Mom?" Chloe asked, glancing over at her mother.

"Well," Sam started. "I know how much you used to talk about Leo," she said with a wink. "And since John made me watch Star Wars . . ."

Chloe grinned. "You're going to make him watch Titanic?"

"You still like it, right?" Sam asked, hoping she had picked a movie Chloe would enjoy. When Chloe smiled and nodded, Sam laughed. "Good, I was worried that I'd messed up."

"Titanic?" John asked a minute later. "You didn't tell me it was another chick flick." He whined, rolling his eyes. However, the effect was lost when he started grinning.

Sam smiled, and laid her head on his shoulder after he put his arm around her shoulders. "I liked Star Wars," she said. "You never know, you might like this."

"I'm not so sure about that."

***

Two weeks after Sam came back from Nebraska was Christmas. For John, the holidays had never been a very big deal. This year, however, Sam was determined to see that they had a traditional family Christmas.

On Christmas Eve, John accompanied Sam and Chloe to Christmas mass. It was the first time since before his mom had died that he went to a holiday service. In a way, it made him feel more of a connection to her. After the mass, they went back to the house.

"What do you want for Christmas, John?" Chloe asked as she helped him secure the stockings on the wall above the fireplace.

John grinned, playing it straight. "Maybe a girlfriend?"

"John," Chloe exaggerated. "You already have one of those."

"Oh yeah, almost forgot." He winked at Chloe, causing her to giggle. "So, what did you ask for?"

"Well," Chloe said, practically hopping from foot to foot. "There's this giant stuffed teddy bear at the mall that I showed Mom."

Kneeling down in front of Chloe, John laughed. "I've seen your room, kiddo. Do you really need another teddy bear?"

"But he's bigger than I am!" Chloe exclaimed, holding her arms out to the sides.

Laughing, John glanced at the fire and stood. "Hey, Chlo, would you get my coat out of the closet? I need to go get some more firewood."

Nodding, Chloe skipped over to the closet just off of the living room. John grinned when she gasped after opening the door. "John, come look!" Pointing inside the closet excitedly.

"What is it?" he asked, hurrying over. "A burglar?"

"It's my bear!" she exclaimed, struggling to remove the large bear from the closet.

John walked up behind her and helped her remove the bear. Once they had it free, Chloe wrapped her arms around it. "I wonder how he got here?"

Grinning, Chloe turned and threw her arms around John's waist, giving him a hug. "Thank you, John. It's the best present ever!"

Returning her hug, John ruffled her hair. "So I did good then?" When Chloe nodded, still smiling, John added, "Now let's just hope I don't get in trouble for giving him to you tonight instead of tomorrow."

As John watched, Chloe managed to maneuver the bulky bear over beside the large fir Christmas tree. "I'll leave him here for tonight," she said once he was in place. "That way, Mom can't complain."

"That way Mom can't complain about what?" Sam asked, walking into the living room carrying three mugs of hot chocolate.

Taking one of the glasses from Sam, John grinned. "That she managed to sneak one present early."

Handing the other mug to Chloe, Sam finally saw the teddy bear. "Wow, Chlo. He's a monster."

"Isn't it great?" she asked, her face beaming. "It's just like the one I showed you, too."

"Imagine that," Sam said quietly, her half-smile hidden behind her mug. Stealing a glance at John, she gestured toward the bear, and in return he merely shrugged and smiled.

Later, after Chloe was tucked away in bed, Sam and John curled up on the couch. "So what have you thought of Christmas so far?" Sam asked over the soft Christmas music that was playing on the stereo.

"I think it's great," John said, kissing Sam on the top of the head.

Smiling, Sam said, "I'm glad. I know Chloe is loving all of the extra attention."

"So am I, believe, me," he laughed softly. "This beats last year's sitting at home watching the Disney parade by a landslide."

Sam turned to face John. "*You* watched the Disney parade?"

"Okay, so I was watching football," he admitted, with a grin. "The other sounded better."

Laying her head back down, she smiled. "Yes, but that sounds much more like you." After a moment's pause, she asked, "How did you know about the bear?"

"You don't mind do you?" he asked, having not mentioned it to her before buying it for Chloe.

Sam shook her head. "No, I just don't remember mentioning it."

John rubbed his hand on Sam's hair absently. "You didn't, I overheard her saying something to you about it." Laughing, he continued, "The clerk at the toy store thought I was crazy, it took almost an hour to make sure I had the right bear."

Sam smiled, touched by John's gesture towards Chloe. "We're lucky to have you, you know," she said softly.

"Not as lucky as I am. Besides," he continued, "I loved seeing her reaction to finding it in the closet."

"I know. I heard her from the kitchen."

John smiled. "Good acting job."

"Well," she said, taking one of John's hands in her own. "I've had years of practice."

At her words, spoken innocently enough, John felt a twinge in his stomach. Years were something he had begun to doubt he would have a chance to enjoy. In fact, he forced himself to admit, he was doing his best to commit the entire holiday to memory. There was no way to know if there would be another chance.

***

Instead of the two more months that the doctor had predicted, it was just over a month later when John heard the words he had been dreading. Two weeks after Christmas, everything changed.

"It's time to move on and start the chemotherapy," Doctor Thompson said during John's weekly visit. "You've reached the point I was waiting for."

John nodded slowly, but his mind was running a mile a minute in denial. "You said four months, it's only been three."

The doctor shook his head, and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. "I was hoping it would be closer to four months, John. It's just progressed faster than I initially anticipated." John swallowed audibly, but just stared at his hands. "As you asked, I've looked into treatment centers outside of Atlanta."

"What did you find?" John asked, forcing himself to sit up straight and face it head on. The week before, he had made a preliminary decision to look into leaving Atlanta for the chemotherapy. He was hoping to spare Sam having to suffer through it as well. He had never expected to need it so soon.

Doctor Thompson picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to John. "There are several options on there, but the one I would recommend is in Buffalo, New York."

"How soon would I have to leave?" he asked, reading the information about the Tucker Treatment Center in Buffalo.

During his checkups, Doctor Thompson had begun to realize what was happening with John, and looked understandingly at the young man. "It's Thursday now. I would recommend that you check in at Tucker by this time next week. I've spoken with them already and I'll make sure that they know to expect you then."

John nodded, just finishing skimming the information about Tucker. "Thank you, Doctor."

"How will you arrange it with your work? The treatment will probably several weeks at the least."

Folding the paper he carefully put it in his jacket pocket. "I have quite a bit of vacation time, I'll just call in a few favors and use it."

Nodding, Doctor Thompson stood. "I wish you the best, Agent Grant."

John shook the doctor's offered hand. "Thanks again for your help," John said sincerely. With that, he turned and walked out of the office.

An hour later, he was at his seldom used apartment making plans for the weekend.

***

After dinner that night, while they were washing the dishes, John finally worked up the nerve to approach Sam about the weekend. "Sam?" he asked her, drying a plate. When she glanced at him, he continued. "What would you say to going up to my cabin for the weekend?"

Sam half-smiled. "What brought this up?" she asked, handing him another plate.

Shrugging, John busied himself drying the plate. "I thought it would be fun. A chance for the three of us to get away from the city for a day or two."

"Sounds nice." She smiled. "Considering the last time you took me to the cabin," she said with a wink.

Reaching over, John put the plate on a shelf, grinning. "Well, I can't guarantee quite that atmosphere."

"Just as well," she laughed. "You probably would burn the place down this time."

Finished with the dishes, Sam and John walked into the living room. "So do you want to drive up after work?" Sam asked, sitting down next to Chloe.

Nodding, John sat next to Sam. "That was my thought."

"Drive up where?" Chloe asked, her curiosity piqued.

"What do you say to a weekend at John's cabin, Chlo?" Sam asked, brushing a lock of hair out of Chloe's eyes.

Chloe's face brightened. "Really? Can we go stargazing?"

John nodded. "Sure we can."

"Great," Chloe said with a grin. "We've been studying some of the constellations in school."

"Then you'll probably be able to teach John a thing or two," Sam joked, winking at John.

John laughed. "You're just worried you'll be embarrassed if you're the only one who doesn't know any."

"How long will we be there?" Chloe asked.

"Till Sunday afternoon," John replied, ruffling her hair. "Then you have to come back to school."

"Do you have a telescope?" Chloe asked, suddenly full of questions.

Nodding, John said, "Sure do."

Suddenly Chloe frowned. "Do we really have to wait until tomorrow?"

"'Fraid so, kid," Sam responded with a grin.

***

It was not quite dusk when John pulled the car to a stop in front of the cabin. "Everybody out," he said, killing the engine.

Chloe was the first out of the car, her door slamming behind her. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she ran up to the porch. "Neat cabin, John," she said, waiting for him to unlock the door.

"Thanks." John held the door open for Chloe and Sam.

Walking inside, Sam laughed. "Wow, there's so much light in here."

"Yeah," he said with a wink. "Good ole Thomas Edison, huh?"

Sam smiled, and gave John a kiss on the cheek. "Between him and Grace I'd say we're set either way." Turning, she saw Chloe on the far side of the living room look out at the lake. "Come on, Chlo. Let's go put these bags up."

"I can do that," John said, reaching out a hand.

Sam shook her head. "I've got it. You go make dinner."

"Me? Cook?" John asked, holding a hand against his chest in shock. "You think I know how?"

"Hey, we're roughing it," Sam said with a laugh as she disappeared into the bedroom. "That means you're cooking."

"Gee, thanks," he said with a laugh, as he walked into the kitchen.

Later that night, the three of them were laying on a blanket on a stretch of grass near the cabin. "What's that one?" John asked, pointing at a group of stars with his free arm. Chloe was had her head laying on his chest, while Sam's head was pillowed on his other shoulder.

Chloe thought for a minute. "Draco, I think."

"The dragon," Sam observed sleepily.

"How'd you know?" Chloe asked.

John laughed. "She saw Dragonheart is my bet."

Sam yawned, but didn't respond. "There's Orion," Chloe said, pointing at a particular grouping in the sky.

"That one I knew," John said. "I remember learning about that one when I was your age."

"A long time ago?" Chloe asked with a giggle.

"I'll teach you about a long time ago," John said, laughing as he tickled Chloe, who giggled helplessly.

***

Chloe had been asleep for almost an hour and Sam was sitting in front of the fireplace when she noticed that John hadn't returned from going to the bathroom. Curious, she stood up and walked back toward the bedrooms.

She found him standing in the doorway to the room that Chloe had claimed. Putting her arm around his waist, she whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Just watching."

When he didn't elaborate, she looked up into his face. "You look like you're a million miles away."

He smiled as he shook his head. "I'm right where I want to be," he said, and kissed the top of her head. "For some reason, I just wanted to watch her sleep."

"I used to do that all the time when she was little," Sam said. "Partly to be sure she was okay. And partly to make a memory . . ." She paused. "Watching her, I guess so that if anything ever happened and I couldn't be with her, I had one perfect image of her in my mind. Laying there, with a smile on her face and clutching that worn teddy bear. It probably sounds strange."

John shook his head imperceptibly. "It makes perfect sense. I just would have never understood it until now."

"Why's that?" she asked, her gaze still on Chloe so that she missed the rush of emotions that filled his eyes before he closed them.

*Because that's what I'm doing,* he thought, *When I'm in hell, this will be one of the things I remember.* Instead of saying this, however, he just said, "I've never been a parent, Sam, or anything close to one. Believe it or not," he said, laughing dryly, "this is a dry run."

Sam smiled, and leaned up to kiss John. Pulling back afterward, she whispered, "Then you're a natural." Reaching out, she pulled the door to Chloe's room shut. Taking John's hand, she led him back into the den.

"Penny for your thoughts," John said, after they had been in the den for a little while.

Sam smiled softly. "I was just thinking how great the past few months have been."

John smiled bitter sweetly. He found himself wanting to agree with her, and yet not able to completely. Every trip to see Doctor Thompson, the constant worry that the next time it would be time to leave had been draining him for some time. It had also been getting harder to hide it at work.

The last time he had been forced to chase down a fleeing suspect, he had almost given himself away. He was as good of a cop as ever, only now he got tired more and more easily, lost his breath more easily. If anyone had noticed, they didn't say anything. He was still glad that Grace hadn't been there.

Unsure how to respond, he finally managed to say in a rough voice, "Bet you never expected that when you offered to cut my hair."

Laughing quietly, Sam shook her head. "Probably not. But I would have been a lot more open to the idea then, rather than when we first met."

"Yeah, but you were pretty tightly wound at the time. You had to warm up to me first."

"Well, you definitely help me unwind," she kidded, her eyes blinking more and more slowly.

John squeezed her hand. "All part of the service."

***

The next day was a sunny, crisp winter day. Dressed in sweaters and jackets, they hiked out into the woods surrounding the cabin. Over the next several hours they pushed through the foliage and watched the animals, which hadn't retreated for the brief southern winter, play in the forest.

"Hey, kiddo," John said on the hike back. "Want to ride on my shoulders for a little while?"

"Sure!" she said, excitedly.

Sam glanced at John. "Are you sure? She's heavier than she looks."

"Sure I'm sure," he said, kneeling down so that Chloe could climb up on his back. "Ready?" he asked once she was settled.

Chloe nodded, and started giggling. "Giddy-up."

"What am I? A horse?" he asked, laughing as he walked.

"A very good looking one, anyway," Sam interjected, grinning.

Shaking his head, John muttered, "Tag teaming against me now, I swear."

"Would we do that to you?" Sam managed to stay straight-faced. When John opened his mouth, she interrupted him. "Wait, don't answer that." Chloe, for her part, started giggling again.

A little while later, John stopped walking and said. "Okay, kiddo. The horse stops here."

"Already?" she asked, having a good time riding on John's shoulders.

"Sorry, little one. I'm beat," he said truthfully, hiding the true extent of the comment behind a grin.

As Chloe climbed down from John's shoulders, Sam watched, surprised by how tired John really did look. Full of energy, Chloe ran ahead of them through the woods. Taking the opportunity, Sam walked next to John. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he lied. Taking her hand, he watched Chloe running ahead. "Why do you ask?"

Sam shrugged. "You just look tired, that's all."

"Nah," he said with a shake of his head. "Just needed a break."

Sam nodded, although not completely convinced, she let it drop. Glancing ahead in the forest, she laughed. "I think Chloe has left us behind."

"Wouldn't surprise me," John said, grinning. "She's got more energy than the two of us combined."

***

"Who wants steak?" John asked. They had been back at the cabin for a couple of hours, and it was almost dinner time.

Chloe looked up from where she was playing with a jump rope. "You don't have chicken?" she asked. John opened his mouth, but saw the twinkle in her eye. "Gotcha." Giggling, she added, "I like steak."

"Kiddo," John laughed, "you've got a twisted sense of humor."

Sam, having walked up toward the end of the conversation rolled her eyes. "Gee, wonder where she picked it up from?"

"Are you saying that *I* could be that influence?" John asked, a look of innocence on his face.

Laughing, Sam shook her head. "Just cook the steaks."

For John, the weekend, as with the past few months, passed too quickly. Before he knew it, they were tucking Chloe in that Saturday night. It had become a habit for both of them to tuck her in, and John had found himself looking forward to it, especially on bad days.

"I love you, kiddo," John whispered, leaning over to kiss Chloe on the tip of the nose.

Chloe giggled, like she always did when John kissed her on the nose, and grinned. "Love you, too."

"'Night, Chlo," Sam said, tucking the covers in around her. "Sweet dreams."

"'Night, Mom. Love you," Chloe replied, her eyes drooping closed.

Sam smiled. "I love you too, baby," she said before taking John's hand and quietly leaving the room. Pulling the door closed behind them, she asked, "Want to go sit on the deck?"

John put his arm around her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan." They were almost to the door when stopped. "Go on out, I'll be there in a minute." Sam looked at him, a puzzled look in her eyes, but went outside anyway.

A minute later, he appeared on the deck, carrying a portable radio. "Thought we might like some music," he said as he plugged in the radio.

A second later, music drifted quietly through the night. Sitting down next to Sam on a bench, John put his arm back around her shoulders. "I'm glad we came here," Sam said, looking at the stars that filled the sky overhead. "You don't get scenery like this in the city."

"A good thing about being in the middle of nowhere," John said with a grin. "You realize that there are more than four stars out there."

Sam tilted her head to the side, thinking. "You know what we've never done?"

With a faint grin on his face, John asked, "What would that be?"

"We've never danced," she said, smiling. "Every couple should dance, John. It's in the rules."

"Rules?" John asked, fighting the urge to laugh.

Sam pulled on John's hand. "You know, that book no one reads. What do you say?"

John smiled, standing, he held out his hand. "May I have this dance?" After Sam stood, and they were swaying arm in arm, John grinned. "You're not subtle, are you?"

"Sometimes subtlety is overrated."

Sam was resting her cheek on his shoulder when he felt her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked.

He felt her nod. "A little bit."

"Just a second," John said, breaking free of the embrace. "I'll get you a blanket." When he returned, he was carrying an afghan. "Here you go." Unfolding it, he pulled it around her shoulders. "Better?"

"Much," she said, wrapping her arms back around his waist.

Leaning forward, John kissed the top of Sam's head. "Good." For the next few moments, neither said anything. The music continued to play in the background, but the two people on the deck were oblivious to anything but each other.

Neither knew how much time had passed when Sam lifted her head from John's chest. In a moment, their eyes met. John leaned down and their lips met in a soft kiss.

Sam reached her hands up to the collar of John's shirt, and his hands circled her waist as the kiss deepened. The afghan fell from Sam's shoulders onto the bench, unnoticed.

When they broke away from the kiss, both Sam and John were breathing hard. John reached a hand up to cup Sam's face, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheekbone. John's gaze searched Sam's smoky eyes, wanting to remember the way the light from inside made the blue shine. "Sam . . ." he said, before she pulled his head down to hers.

Unlike the last kiss, this one was intense and left both of them gasping for air. "For once, John," Sam said, "I don't want to think."

A faint smile on his lips, John held her chin in both his hands and kissed her on the forehead. "You're beautiful, do you know that?" he whispered in her ear.

In response, she laughed. "I like your taste." Wrapping her hands around the back of his head, she started kissing his jawbone.

"Are you sure about this?" John asked, trying with what little will he had left to keep things from getting out of hand.

"John? Shut up and kiss me."

With a grin, he replied, "Yes, ma'am."

A few moments later, John lowered them down onto the stuffed bench. Their eyes closed, both lost themselves in the moment.

Sometime later, when the moon was high in the sky, John and Sam lay on the bench wrapped up in the once-forgotten afghan. Sam, her hair splayed against John's bare chest, sighed softly in her sleep, a small smile on her face.

While Sam slept, John lay there watching her. One hand was playing with her hair, while the other rubbed across her back. He listened as she breathed steadily, and watched as her eyes darted under the lids and knew her to be lost in dreams.

As he lay there, he thought of being forced to leave in a few days. Emotions that he'd only felt when his mom had been killed tore at his heart. Leaning down, he kissed the top of Sam's head and brushed away the tear that had rolled down his cheek and onto her hair.

For every thought that went through his mind as he held her, the only one that stayed with him was what Sam had said the night before about making a memory. Because for a brief moment, his life had finally found a peace it had always lacked.

***

The next morning, the pink of dawn was just beginning to streak across the sky when Sam roused from sleep. "Good morning," he said, kissing her gently.

"Good morning." Looking down, she smiled. "I'm guessing Chloe isn't up yet."

John laughed softly. "She's as bad at mornings as I am. Much less getting up at dawn." Giving Sam the afghan, John reached over and grabbed his blue jeans and pulled them on. Winking, he said, "But either way we better get dressed."

Sam nodded, and stood, the afghan wrapped around her. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed John. "What was that for?" he asked with a smile.

"Just because," she said with a wink before gathering her clothes and disappearing inside the cabin. John watched her walk inside before following her. First he ducked into the bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes before changing in the bathroom. Then he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

When Sam walked into the kitchen, she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. "The coffee smells good," she said, taking an offered cup from John.

"Coffee I can manage," he grinned, taking a drink. A second later, he asked, "Care to watch the sunrise?"

Sam smiled. "I'd love to."

They walked outside and found a spot next to the cabin where they could see through the forest. Over the next few moments, the sun peeked above the rolling foothills of the Appalachians.

They had only been back from watching the sunrise for an half an hour when Sam heard Chloe stirring in her bedroom. "I think someone else is finally awake," she said with a grin.

"Bound to have happened eventually," John joked from the kitchen, where he was busy scrambling eggs for breakfast. A few minutes later, Chloe walked into the kitchen. "Morning, kiddo."

"Hi," she said around a yawn. Walking over to the table, Chloe sat down in one of the wood chairs. "What's for breakfast?"

John grinned. "Scrambled eggs and toast."

"The only thing you can make!" Chloe giggled, slowly becoming more awake.

Finishing the toast, John grinned as he muttered, "Boy, you give and you give and what do you get . . ."

"Breakfast?" Chloe asked with a coy grin on her face.

Surprised by her remark, John laughed and dropped the piece of toast he was fixing. Picking up the ruined toast, he pretended to hand it to Chloe. "I think this is your piece."

"John . . ." she said, laughing.

John laughed. "You're right. We'll give it to your mom."

Chloe was giggling when Sam walked in the room. "Whatever you two were planning, forget about it," she said, smiling.

"What do you mean planning?" John asked, straight-faced.

She pointed at Chloe. "I know that giggle. It means trouble." She laughed. "Strange how it happens so much more when you're around."

"I know," John said, sniffing and pretending to wipe his eye. "I'm so proud."

***

That afternoon, they drove back home. It wasn't quite dark when they arrived at the house, and Chloe went down the street to play with a friend. After John carried their bags inside, he made the decision that he had been dreading all weekend.

"Sam?" he asked, walking into the living room. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Sam looked up when John spoke, and nodded her head. "Always."

John sat down on the couch and motioned for her to do the same. He waited until she had sat down before saying, "I wanted to tell you that tomorrow I'm going to talk to Bailey about taking some time off."

Sam looked at him, her confusion showing on her face. "Time off? Why?"

"There's just some stuff I need to do."

"Stuff . . ." Sam repeated, not understanding. John mentally cringed at the hurt he saw flicker in her eyes.

He nodded his head. "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"It's just something I have to do on my own," he finished, hating the pain he saw in her eyes.

Sam's gaze searched John's eyes, trying to read what was going on there. Angel's words from several months ago came rushing back. She shook her head, not willing to believe that he was running away. "You can't tell me what it's about?" she asked, needing to know what could make him so serious and willing to leave.

"Sorry, Sam. It's just . . ."

"Something you have to do on your own," she finished for him. "You said that."

John nodded, fighting the urge to crawl under the couch. "It may take a little while, Sam," he said, squeezing her hand. "But I'll be back."

Sam didn't move. "Then why do I see doubt in your eyes?"

John blinked and bit his lip. *Because I can only hope that's true,* he thought. Out loud, he said, "Never doubt how I feel about you. And about Chloe. The two of you have become my entire world."

"But you're leaving anyway?" she asked, hating the rare vulnerability she could hear in her voice.

John lowered his gaze and nodded. "I have to."

***

During the morning briefing, Sam was more subdued than usual. John, sitting next to her, managed not to move during the entire meeting. On the other side of the table, both Grace and George noticed the difference.

After the meeting was over, Grace stayed behind to talk to George. "What do you think happened?" George asked, watching Sam walk to her office and close the door behind her.

"I've got an idea," Grace said, her eyes sad. "But it's too soon."

"Too soon for what?" George asked, looking up at Grace, who was watching John walk toward Bailey's office.

Grace shook her head. "Nothing. They probably just had a misunderstanding."

"Them?" George asked with a laugh. "Doesn't seem very likely, does it?"

"I guess not," Grace said, watching John disappear inside Bailey's office. She turned to George, and forced a smile. "Either way, nothing stays secret around this place for long, does it?" Even as she spoke, she knew of one secret that had managed to stay hidden far too long.

"Ain't that the truth," George said, typing on his computer.

Grace didn't respond, she was lost in thought. She did the math in her head and knew the two months John had told her about weren't up yet. Still, a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that was the case.

"Earth to Grace." George waved a hand in front of her face.

"Sorry?" she asked, blinking and focusing on George.

Shaking his head, he replied, "Nothing. You were just on another planet there for a minute."

"Just thinking about something." She closed the folders that were open in front of her. "I'm going to go see if Sam will tell me what's bothering her."

George nodded, a half-grin on his face. "Go for it, for once they know something before we do."

***

A few minutes later, Grace knocked on Sam's door. "Can I come in?" she asked after pushing the door open.

Sam looked up from the papers she was trying to make herself read, and sighed. Grateful for the distraction, she waved her in. "Sure. Just close the door behind you."

Grace walked over and leaned against the edge of Sam's desk. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam half-smiled. "You noticed?"

"Chip in Processing noticed," she kidded lightly before growing serious. "I thought you were going to the cabin this weekend?"

"We did," Sam said, nodding.

"So what went wrong?"

Fidgeting with her pen, Sam replied, "Nothing. The weekend was great."

"Until?" Grace pressed.

"Until last night." Sam dropped the pen on her desk. "And bang, he dropped a bomb on me."

Grace nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "That he's leaving."

Sam nodded, but jerked her attention to Grace when she realized what she had said. "How did you know?"

"Just a guess," she said, trying to cover her slip. "Did he say why?"

Sam shook her head. "Just that it was something he had to do, and that he would be back."

"Do you believe him?" Grace asked, a sad look on her face.

After a pause, Sam replied. "I want to, Grace. In a way, I need to."

When Grace left Sam's office, she saw John walking from Bailey's office back to his desk. Before he could get there, she intercepted him. "Can I speak to you in my office?" she asked, careful to keep her voice low and stay out of Sam's line of sight.

John nodded, well aware of what was coming.

She waited until John had closed the door behind them to speak. "I'm guessing Doctor Thompson said it was time?" she asked softly.

Nodding, John sat down on the worn couch that lined one wall. "I found out last Thursday."

"What happened to two more months?" Grace asked, concerned.

John shrugged. "It's going faster than he expected."

"And this weekend? What was that?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against her desk.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly before responding. "One last taste of perfect, I suppose."

Grace found herself fighting the moisture that wanted to build up in her eyes. "Why don't you tell her, John?" The anger that she had been building since the meeting was dissipating into concern for her friends.

"Because," he said, standing up and pacing in the small office. "If everything works out, I come back in a while and beg her to forgive me for disappearing. And if not . . ."

"If not, then she doesn't have to suffer, too?" Grace asked. She remembered their last conversation well. When he nodded, she continued, "That's as much bull now as it was before, John. She needs to help you as much as you're going to need her."

"Grace . . ."

"Do you think she's not suffering already?" Grace said, ignoring his interruption. "You're both miserable. You're sick. It's cruel and it's horrible. And it's not fair, and it's not your fault, or anyone's fault. But your stubborn refusal to let her be a part of this, that *is* your fault."

John smiled, surprising Grace, whose temper was growing hot. "I should've known that you would give it to me straight," he said, laughing humorlessly.

"I should kick your butt is what I should do," she replied, trying to calm down.

John sat back down. "I have no doubt you would try." He paused. "It's the best option, Grace. I told you before, I'll do whatever I have to make sure she isn't hurt."

"And being left behind won't hurt her?" Grace asked, her arms crossed, but her voice softening when she saw the hurt flare in John's eyes.

"She's strong, Grace, stronger than I am. In the end she'll be fine without me. This way, she just gets hurt less in the process."

"John . . ." she said, pausing. "She's my friend, I have to tell her."

"I do plan on coming back, Grace," he said, hoping he was speaking the truth. "And I'm not disappearing completely. It will be like when she was in Nebraska."

Grace nodded. "With only a few more lies."

John stood up and kissed her on the cheek, doing his best to ignore the pain her comment caused. "I'll be sure to tell you goodbye before I go."

With that, he turned and left her office. For a moment, she just watched him walk away. When he was out of earshot, she mumbled, "I'm not so sure either of you will be completely fine without the other anymore."

***

"You're going away?" Chloe asked, her voice small.

John nodded. "I'm afraid so, kiddo." It was Tuesday evening, and John's flight to Buffalo was the following afternoon. "But I'll call you, okay?"

Chloe nodded sadly, her eyes watching the floor. "I just don't understand why you have to leave." She paused before looking up at him. "I don't want you to go."

Sliding off the couch to sit next to Chloe on the floor, John pulled her into a one-arm hug. Chloe wrapped her arms around his waist and he kissed her on top of the head. A moment later he whispered, "I know, little one. I don't want to go either."

"Then don't," Chloe said, her voice muffled by John's shirt. "Stay here with me and Mom."

John sighed, and blinked slowly. Telling Chloe was as hard if not harder than telling Sam had been. "I wish I had that choice," he said almost imperceptibly.

That night, John tucked Chloe in by himself. "You promise you'll come back?" she asked when John was sitting on the edge of her bed.

John smiled. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

Chloe yawned, and blinked slowly. Sleepily, she said, "Don't forget. You promised."

"I won't," he whispered, standing up.

"Love you," she breathed, losing the fight to stay awake.

John smiled, remembering the first time she had ever told him that. "I love you too, little one." After her eyes drifted shut, John walked over to stand in the doorway. Looking back at Chloe, he whispered, "I promise, Chlo. Only death itself could keep me away."

***

From where John stood next to the door, he could see the uncertain look on Sam's face. "So this is it," she said, crossing her arms.

"It's not good bye, Sam," he said, reaching out his hand. He pulled it back, however, when she flinched at his touch. Not knowing what he could say to make it better, he pulled his bag over his shoulder. "I better go."

Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. The more time she had to think about what was happening, she found herself alternating between hurt, sad and angry. "Then go," she said, immediately regretting the harsh edge in her voice.

John nodded, understanding her anger. However, during it all, he kept reminding himself that it was for the best. "I love you, Sam."

Overcome by the urge to laugh, she bit back the humorless noise. "Do you?"

"More than life," he said, walking through the door.

Sam watched as he climbed into his car and drove away. In a battle of emotions, stubbornness won out over despair. Closing the door, she said, "You have a funny way of showing it."

***

John had been gone for two days when he called Sam and Chloe for the first time. He was scheduled to begin his chemotherapy treatments the next morning.

Chloe answered the phone. "Hey there, kiddo."

"Hi John," she said, sounding down.

John clenched the phone tighter, and replied quietly. "What's wrong, Chlo?"

"I wish you were here," she replied, curling up on one end of the sofa. "Can you tell me where you are yet?" she asked when John didn't say anything.

"Not yet." Trying to change the subject, he asked, "How's school going?"

Chloe grinned. "I made an A on my math test!"

"Good for you," John cheered. "I knew you'd do good on that."

Chloe waited for a minute before asking, "There's a basketball tournament in a couple of weeks. Will you be back in time to watch me play?"

John smiled, remembering the Sunday afternoons that they spent in the driveway working on her shots. "I doubt it, but I'll try. I can't promise though, okay?"

"Okay," she replied. "Just as long as you keep your other promise." Before John could reply, he heard Chloe put her hand over the mouth piece. A second later she asked, "Do you want to talk to Mom?"

"I do if she wants to talk to me," he said, still remembering the look on her face when he left.

"Okay, here she is," Chloe said before handing the phone to Sam. "Love you," she added at the last second.

A moment later, Sam took the phone. "How's everything going?"

"Fine so far," he replied, non-committally. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Chloe and I were fixing to watch a movie."

"Really? What are you going to watch?" John asked, grateful for the diversion.

Sam smiled. "Star Wars, actually. I let her pick."

"And to think you never wanted to see that," John kidded. "Now you're renting the video."

Laughing softly, Sam replied, "Strange things happen, huh?"

"Yeah," He grinned sadly. "Like us."

Sam's smile faded. "Is there still an us?"

"Always, Sam," he replied. A minute later, he said, "I better go, it's getting late and you have a movie to watch."

"Good night, John."

"Sweet dreams, Sam," he said, a wistful look on his face. Hanging the phone up, he climbed into bed.

***

Sunday night John had planned to call Sam and Chloe. However he underestimated how quickly the chemotherapy would begin to affect him. Instead, it was later that week before he was able to call and talk to them.

During the next few weeks, John was in Buffalo, suffering through the side-effects of the chemotherapy, and Sam continued working in Atlanta. He called when he felt well enough to hide the pain in his voice, although at times it was hard to find the chance.

Through the long nights, when it felt like the cells of his body were tearing each other apart, John focused on the memories he had from the few short months he had been apart of a family. Laying on his side one night, he saw the moon hanging high in the sky and smiled, remembering the night he held Sam outside the cabin.

For Sam, every once in a while the ring on her hand would catch her attention. For a few seconds each time, she wouldn't be able to tear her gaze away from the three sparkling stones. In a way, it had always seemed to symbolize the three of them, she, Chloe and John. Now she didn't know what to think.

The longer John was gone, the less often he called. She didn't have the number where he was at, but she wasn't sure she would call him if she did. Almost a month after he had left, and her heart, when she would let it, was still a fight between angry stubbornness and confused hurt. It was only made worse by the fact that each time she did speak with John, he sounded different. She couldn't place the odd sound to his voice, but couldn't help thinking that he sounded sick.

Sitting at her desk, she glanced at the calendar, and remembered that it would be Valentine's day in two days. It was supposed to be their first Valentine's together, however, she had to wonder if they would even speak.

The trip to buy Valentine's cards had been John's first chance to leave the treatment center since beginning his chemotherapy. They had put him on an aggressive treatment schedule, and most of the time he didn't have the energy to leave.

He pulled a worn ball cap over his stubble-like new hair. His chemotherapy was over for about a week, and his hair was beginning to grow back. He was scheduled to meet with the doctor in just over a week to find out if the treatment had worked.

Pushing that out of his mind, he set out in search of the perfect cards. Glad for the chance to be away, he spent over an hour scouring the various cards until he found just what he wanted. Just the year before, he had thought all of the Valentine's cards to be over-sentimental and over-done.

He still had to laugh at some of the sappier cards, and was happy when he found the card that captured both the serious thoughts he wanted to convey, yet had the hint of humor that was truly his. Finding a card for Chloe was easier, and his search for a silly card that he knew she would like didn't take half the time.

He purchased the two cards, and on his way back to the treatment center, he dropped them off at the post office. He knew it was taking a risk giving her the postmark. However, he wanted her to know that he was thinking of her, even though he hadn't been able to call her lately.

By the day before Valentine's day, John hadn't called in over a week, and Sam had the sinking feeling he wasn't going to call again. Pushing the thoughts of what might have been out of her mind, she forced herself to concentrate on the work that needed to be done.

When she got home from work, she checked the mail and was surprised to see a bright red and a pink envelope in the mailbox. Pulling them out, the first thing she recognized was the scribbled script on them. One was addressed to her, and the other to Chloe. She searched the cards for a return address, but was forced to settle for a postmark: Buffalo, New York.

***