Spoilers: None Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they are property of the Bruck and his fellow associates. This goes out to the Maple St. crew. Rock on guys!
"Thwack!" The sound of a bat making contact with a worn baseball reached Sam's ears. She glanced in the direction of the sound and squinted into the sun. An assortment of colorful water coolers and various beach chairs dotted her view of a block party assembling in the cul de sac at the end of the street. Children of different ages ran around with water balloons, aiming at their prey and firing their missiles, hoping for immediate gratification.

Looking briefly in the sky, she gauged a couple hours left before the night took over, leaving way for sparklers and small fire works to illuminate the darkness. It was the fourth of July, and she was not in New York. Sam was in Ohio. With her boss. She was in Ohio with her boss and a warm bottle of water instead of New York with her friends and a cold bottle of beer.

She doffed her jacket and laid it on the seat, picked up the file she came outside for and closed the door of the government issued vehicle. Sun- kissed arms welcomed more sunlight as walked slowly back to the house, reading the file along the way. What had been extremely difficult about this case was that the family was in the process of moving from New York to Ohio when Benny Collins, the youngest son, was abducted. The father was already living in the house and had received the furniture, while the mother followed with the children after summer break had arrived.

During the move Benny had been kidnapped and the team worked for three straight days searching for him. Sam and Jack originally flew Philadelphia were the kidnapper had been traced through a phone call to the father. He had, however, made it almost to Pittsburgh by the time the she and Jack arrived. During the course of the investigation, the team realized that the suspect had not randomly chosen Benny, but had followed the nine-year old over the course of two months.

Franklin Jennings, the kidnapper, had been a former business associate of the father's, angry after he'd been shafted out of the company and felt Benny's father, Bryan Collins, was to blame. Discovering who had taken Benny was the easy part. Figuring out where Jennings had taken him had been everything but simple. In the end, it had been Samantha who'd located their whereabouts, and was also the one who'd kept close contact with the family.

Jack, Sam and the base agents in Ohio had tracked Jennings 110 miles on the south of Pittsburgh. All in all, Benny had been retrieved unharmed and Jennings only received minor injuries. That was the previous night. Or, early morning, Sam thought bitterly. Both she and Jack had been running on fumes for the past four days and all Sam could think about was a pillow and the smell of food cooking on a grill.

She entered the house quietly and walked towards the kitchen. Before she reached it, she paused at a wall adorned with pictures of various sizes. His mother had hung them right out of the box, anxiousness causing her and her family to do something productive. During her son's absence, they'd unpacked almost every box that had filled their basement. Scanning the pictures she saw that Benny was in most of the photographs, toothless smiles and boyish grins filling them all.

She blinked away the exhaustion and turned from the memory-covered wall and walked into the kitchen. Noting the door onto the deck was unlocked, she concluded that they had taken the family reunion outside. She stepped onto the crowded deck and shut the door quietly, walking past Peter Wallace, an Ohio agent a year older that her, and lay the file down on the table in front of Jack. They'd been at the house for two hours now, and didn't appear to be leaving any time soon. Apparently, the father's family lived nearby, and everyone from great grandmother Elaine to second cousin Steve was there, sharing the good fortune in Benny's recovery. Jack looked back at Sam and nodded thanks then continued to speak with the gentleman to his right.

She walked over to an empty spot on the railing and leaned against it, watching Benny carefully. After Jennings' released Benny's location, she'd found Benny crying in the corner of a motel room around 12:30 a.m. Sam had stayed with him the whole time - from the hotel, to the hospital, to his parents' arrival. Understandably, Benny was slightly shaken, but his ability to bounce back after such an event was admirable. Sam sighed, thinking that if she were ever kidnapped, she wanted Jennings to do it. The man fed the child, gave him a pillow and let him play with his pet gecko. No wonder the boy wasn't that affected. Jennings wanted more than anything to shake up Bryan, secondly to receive a retirement fund. She smiled when she thought all he would be receiving was three to six years in the New York State Penitentiary. He'd probably get off easier than that, but she could only hope.

Laughter broke her clouded thoughts. She looked at a red faced Jack who was laughing heartily with a few men around the table, amused at their own wit.

Instead of smiling at the sight of him, she frowned. He looked so laid back, so carefree with these people. He'd changed into a tan polo shirt, had a tall glass of iced tea in his hand and seemed to be genuinely happy.

She wondered if this was what Marie saw, what his children saw when they thought of Jack. She knew that they wouldn't see it anymore as he and his wife had finalized their divorce over two months ago. Jack had found himself an apartment large enough to house himself and his two daughters when they stayed with him on the occasional weekend. Sam hadn't seen it, nor had he ever seen her apartment. She never asked him to either.

Swallowing back a yawn she checked her watch, it was 5:30. Whereas she'd been with the family all day, Jack had a chance to take a shower and get a nap. Their plane didn't leave until midnight thirty and she was hungry - ravenous even. Sam looked around and realized most of the women had gone inside to the kitchen, while Bryan was getting his grill ready. She looked at Jack, waiting to get eye contact. Knowing good and well that they shouldn't have stayed this long, staying for dinner probably wouldn't have made the slightest difference anymore.

Sam only wondered what the Ohio agents did when they solved a case or ended the day on a good note. Feeling her eyes upon him, he finally glanced in her direction and held her gaze. He followed her head nod in the direction of the grill, and turned back to her raising his eyebrows and shaking his head with indecision.

Laura, Benny's mother, came outside not long after with another pitcher of iced tea and more glasses.

"Agent Wallace, y'all will be staying for our cookout won't you?" she asked Peter with common southern hospitality. Sam smiled. Despite living in New York for four years and relocating to Ohio, Laura was a southern woman through and through.

"Ma'am, you're going to have to ask Special Agent Pearson about that," he motioned towards his supervisor, who turned at the mention of his name.

"I was just asking Agent Wallace if you would be so kind as to join us for our cookout," she placed a hand on the back of Pearson's chair, setting the pitcher down carefully on the table.

Agent Pearson looked at Jack for confirmation. Eating dinner with victim's families wasn't exactly what would be considered protocol. Staying for a family get together wasn't either. Jack grinned at the man, glanced at Sam, then nodded his head in affirmation. He was tired of airport food.

"Yes ma'am we'd love to. Would you like us to do anything while we're here?" he offered.

"No just sit back and relax. It's the least we can do for y'all finding Benny," she winked at her son and walked quickly back inside. Fortunately for everyone, Bryan cooked for himself and already had the kitchen stockpiled with food and dishes.

Her mouth feeling like sandpaper and her bottled water empty long ago, Sam took an empty seat next to Benny, pouring some lemonade in a tall glass. Hearing Benny's conversation with his older brother, Todd, all Sam could do was smile.

"Brittany said goodbye to you? What did she do?" asked Benny in all amazement. Todd, sensing that Sam was listening, leaned in and whispered in Benny's ear. Sam's smile grew larger when she saw the reaction on Benny's face when Todd said 'kiss.'

"Ew! With her? She's so - mean," said Benny, his face contorted in disgust. Todd reacted with a small jab to the shoulder.

"Ow! Hey, that hurt," said Benny rubbing his arm.

"Wimp."

Angry at his brother, he turned to Samantha with a toothy smile on his face.

"Thanks for meeting my family. They're really happy you and Mr. Malone and the other agents stayed to meet them. They really wanted to thank you."

"It was an honor meeting your family. I only wish I met families as kind as yours all the time."

"Yeah, I guess they are pretty nice. Too bad my Aunt Lola couldn't come, I think she's your age, but she's not as pretty as you," he said lightly. His comment elicited a chuckle out of Sam. She tried to steer the conversation away from the direction it was headed.

"Don't you need to go back to sleep?"

"No. Plus you're the one who looks tired," he said.

"You don't look so hot yourself," she countered with a grin.

"Well, I did get a nap, but those can't solve everything. Do you want to take one in my room? They made the bed."

Smiling at the thought she shook her head, "No thanks Benny. We'll be leaving soon anyway. I'll take a nap when I get home."

"Okay. Are you staying for dinner?"

"Yes, we have to refuel before we catch our flight back to New York."

"Good. Now I have time to show you my-"

"Hey Benny, come here," said Todd who was leaning in from the kitchen door. "I have a surprise for you."

Contemplating for a millisecond whether his brother was up to a mischievous activity, Benny decided in Todd's favor and smiled.

"Come on Sam," Benny got out of his chair immediately. Having no energy to refuse, she complied with his wishes. Jack smirked at her as she walked by, shaking his head. She rolled her eyes in reply and followed the nine-year- old into his house.

Todd yelled for Benny to come down the basement stairs. Benny ran down the steps, jumping the last few to the bottom. In contrast, Sam slowly descended the stairs, weary of anything remotely related to a surprise.

Sam walked up behind Benny who had been ordered to keep his eyes closed. Todd was in a small room moving some things around, making a lot of noise in the process. Finally he grabbed Benny by the hand and carefully pulled him into the room.

"Open!"

"Oh my gosh!" shocked silence. "Oh my gosh!"

She stepped inside to see what had happened. The room had one wall lined with mirrors, and a gorgeous hardwood floor. This room was for break dancing.

"This is awesome. Oh my gosh. Todd, did you do this?"

"No, I helped dad install the mirrors, but that's about it. Dad had the floor installed a couple months ago. Its really great, I practiced on it a little bit. Look, he also got surround sound speakers installed too," Sam followed Benny's eyes around the room. The kid was in pure heaven. She didn't think his smile could get any larger, but she had been wrong more than once that day.

"What's over there?" Benny asked, motioning to a smaller closet.

"Oh come here I'll show you," Benny followed Todd over to the door and made another exclamation of joy.

Sam smiled at the two boys, talking 90 miles per minute over the new video games they had gotten for their game cube. She walked around the room looking at some of the pictures that had already been hung - all of various competitions or events for break dancing. She saw a picture in which Benny was holding a trophy that had to be larger than he was. She turned and looked in the direction of the trophies to see if she could spot the right one. She found it, but there were almost three other trophies that towered over it, one being from the national championships. The brothers won the team competition and had received a trophy that was almost four in a half feet tall.

Remembered once again, Benny asked Sam if she wanted to play pac man, but she regretfully declined and ascended the steps, letting the boys enjoy themselves. As she walked into the kitchen, Laura gave Sam a fully loaded, very strong cappuccino and told her to sit down for a while. Sam obligingly stayed in the kitchen, quickly finishing off the cappuccino and quietly slid outside knowing that the women were more than capable of getting everything ready.

The tables had been set up, plates spread and plastic wear dispersed. 21 people (22 including the mastiff) were hungry, and the food wasn't getting any hotter. Buns were tossed here, bags of chips thrown there, potato salad and coleslaw were plopped generously on plates, baked beans and deviled eggs squeezed in beside the chicken leg and oversized hamburger.

Sam sat down with her plate filled to the brim, her stomach producing an oddly orchestrated melody. Jack scanned the crowded deck and saw Sam climb over a bench and sit next to Agent Pearson. He walked over and sat his plate down, carefully climbing in next to Sam and situated himself and his poor knee. Sam looked over at him and smiled, her disposition noticeably different from the caffeine boost and food. He returned the smile then turned to his hamburger.

Benny climbed in across from Sam and gave her a 1000-watt smile. Jack suppressed a laugh. The kid had a crush on his Samantha. Sam nudged Jack in the arm with her elbow, a smile formed at the corner of her lips and her cheeks grew pink. The rest of the cookout was spent devouring every last morsel of food and trying to avoid being hit on by the nine-year-old boy and Peter Wallace.

Before the fireworks began going off the boys pulled everyone downstairs so they could dance for them. A steady beat filled the small room as the two delved deep within themselves to produce one of their most impressive routines, full of technique and skill. After they finished, Todd got his dad to do the worm, while Benny tried coaxing his grandmother to do the moonwalk. The former occurred with much success, whereas the latter was met with much opposition. Apparently walkers don't enable the elderly to moonwalk.

As everyone started to head back outside, Agent Wallace got a phone call from his Supervising Agent asking where the report was on Benny Collins' case. Because Pearson was the senior agent and he was somewhat of a bum, Wallace was stuck with writing up the report. Agent Pearson gave Wallace the file that Sam had retrieved earlier, but he also needed some extra paperwork filled out by the two New York agents.

Pearson and Wallace remained in the kitchen talking with the mosquito-shy folk while Jack and Sam headed out to the car to retrieve their write-ups. Jack followed Sam out to the car, iced tea in hand. He was in a great mood. They'd found the bad guy, he'd enjoyed his Fourth of July and he was surrounded by kind people. And from what he could tell, Sam seemed to be in good spirits as well, but something was on her mind.

Nearing the end of the drive, they both jumped slightly when a firecracker went off down the street. Sam shook her head smiling at herself while Jack chuckled behind her. Sam opened the passenger door, took out her jacket and handed it to Jack. He leaned casually against the door, waiting for her to retrieve the folder she was looking for out of her brief case. Jack's was in the trunk but his lax attitude lent itself to him preferring to watch Sam than getting his own brief case.

Sam looked through the leather case, not finding what she was searching for. She couldn't focus, and her eyes scanned the same folder ten times over before she realized that was what she was looking for. Her inhibitions over all rational thought were gone, her mind was winding down and her thoughts kept roaming to the man who was waiting quietly behind her. She felt his eyes upon her, watching her face closely, scanning for any tell tale signs that might help him read her thoughts. Not wanting her thoughts read, she quickly shoved the folder in his hand and waited for him to look over it to check for errors or inconsistency.

He took the file, but did not open it. Instead, he set his glass on the roof of the car and pulled the keys from his pocket and popped open the trunk. He walked to the back of the car and began sifting through luggage and equipment. Sam leaned against the car, her senses acutely aware that she was completely alone with Jack for the first time since they'd arrived. Her thoughts drifted from events earlier that day to discussions she'd had with him months ago.

When becoming involved with someone who was already married, it wasn't a sudden, quick process, or a moment of passion. The affair itself was gradual, slowly-building until one time, they let go of everything and took a plunge. That's what it felt like for her. She'd built a friendship with her boss, become a confidant and a trusted advisor who would not judge him. Her feelings for him began to evolve and in time she couldn't deny her attraction to him. He was a married man, completely off-limits. She would never act on her attraction, just admire from afar and move on, yet time passed and her infatuation grew more ardent and they grew even closer. Closer became impossible to define as they finally acted on their attraction. Several months later, here she was with the once married, completely off-limits man. This man, with whom she'd come to know so well, was so much a part of her that she couldn't imagine her life without him.

The same went for Jack as well. They had never consciously thought all the time they spent together, all the discussions, all the late nights were setting them up for something more. But Jack had become emotionally withdrawn at home, he detached himself from his wife and children, pouring more and more time into his work. It had gotten so bad that he'd forgotten his wife's birthday. Sam saw this and knew that she should mention something to him, even if it wasn't her place. They'd had a brief argument, then the following day they found themselves together on a trip out west in hopes of finding a runaway granny. They didn't find the granny that day, but that night, they'd found each other. And several months later, here he stood, divorced and alone with the woman who was the catalyst for his current state.

Jack approached Sam with his file and placed it into her hand and began scanning her work. She followed suit, focusing ever so intently on the way he dotted his 'I's and crossed his 't's. Her head shot up at a roar of laughter booming from the house.

"Makes you want a big family doesn't it?" Jack asked casually, trying to gauge Sam's current mood. Her eyes returned to the file, aware of what Jack was doing.

"Sometimes. Then I always remember there are always enough arguments to equal the laughter."

"Not always," he replied, returning back to her report. From what he could tell it was fine. Sam stared at his file a little longer then gave up trying to read his report.

"Do you miss them?" Sam asked, looking at him intently over the manila folder.

"All the time," Jack said without a thought. He missed reading his girls to sleep, he missed the feel of his wife next to him in bed. He smirked at the thought. He hadn't actually slept near his wife in almost a year. After everything that happened, she wouldn't let him back in the bedroom and he never protested. Maybe he just liked the feel of a woman next to him in bed.

Sam watched him while he thought about his family. She knew he'd been unhappy with his marriage, but she'd never thought it would truly dissolve. To her, getting a divorce would have been the answer, but she thought Jack to be patient and willing enough to work through the rough spot. Maybe Sam was the rough spot. She slowly pulled the folder from his fingers and placed it on the hood of Wallace' vehicle. She walked back over to Jack and grabbed her Jacket lying on the window and tossed it in the back seat.

The case was closed. Done and finished. She turned around again and saw Jack looking upwards at the sky hands shoved into his pockets. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry." Jack turned a looked at her curiously.

"For what?"

"I'm sorry about you getting a divorce and you not being happy. I'm sorry that I ever went back to your room that night and - I'm, I'm sorry about all the things I've said in the past," she ended quietly. Stunned with her confession, she leaned against the car, an emotional storm brewing within her. Jack brought his hand up and scratched the back of his neck, exhaling loudly.

"What we did that night had nothing to do with my divorce Sam. As much as I loved my family, I wasn't there, emotionally or physically. Even now, I don't even think I'd be able to go back to the way things were. I made a deliberate attempt to separate myself from them - like a defense mechanism," he paused while more firecrackers went off, glancing down the street at the action. "My marriage was lost long before we did anything, and you knew I was unhappy. We've reconciled now though, Marie and I. We all eat dinner together on Friday nights, sometime the girls come home with me, sometimes they stay."

Sam stood for a second, thinking about what he had just said.

"Are you okay?" she asked intently. He did not answer immediately, he took time to deliberate, and found the answer he was looking for.

"For the time being, yes. This year has been difficult. I can easily settle on being content with my life just the way it is; happy or not."

Jack noticed the fatigue etched along her features as she quickly ran a hand through her hair. He wanted to run his hand through her hair. He wanted to kiss the top of her head and follow her lustrous hair all the way to her neck where he would proceed to -.

"It's just, I saw you out there, looking exactly like you belonged, like you were used to having a family and used to being surrounded by one. It makes me wonder what would have happened if things hadn't played out the way they did -"

Jack leaned his right arm against the frame of the door, watching as Sam struggled with the reality of the situation. He knew she'd had issues with men in her past, but the thought of her actually being a family man seemed to overpower her. She was seeing him in an environment that was conducive to his 'softer' side and she didn't know how to react.

Something moving behind Sam's head caught his eye. It was his glass, slowly moving with the slope of the car as the condensation that built up around the glass let it slide forward. He reached out and stopped the glass, instantly closing all space that was between him and Sam.

She paused mid sentence, struck by his sudden movement. She followed his arm behind her head and saw the glass. He made no attempt to move back, nor did she try to step aside. They stood there, riveted to the ground, close enough to block out the world yet not touch each other.

Jack spoke low, almost in Sam's ear, "I really am fine. Do I still miss my family? Yes. Do I ever want to have a family again? Probably," he paused and looked down, then brought his eyes back again. "If I could do it over again, I wouldn't change a thing because I can't live in the past Sam - and neither can you," he ended quietly. She could feel his breath upon her neck, his words echoing in her ear.

"Agent Malone do you need help with anything?" asked Wallace as he approached them casually. Jack and Sam were on the other side of the car, fortunately the car was obscuring any ability to detect what was going on. Out of surprise more than anything, Jack moved away from her.

"No. Thank you Agent Wallace, we already put them in your car. Agent Spade and I were just talking about something."

Seemingly aloof, the agent said his farewells, and drove away. Not more than two seconds after Wallace had driven away did Benny and his cousin Josh run out from the side of the yard with water guns. Spotting Sam, Benny ran over and threatened to squirt her if she did not go to the back yard immediately. Fully willing to comply with his wishes, she said she would be there in one minute. The boys ran off again, returning the way they came.

The first series of fireworks had begun to go off. Two more rounds to go. Sam looked up at the sky and then to Jack. His eyes remained on her the whole time. She wanted to talk to him, she wanted to hang her heart on her sleeve and wear it proudly. If she was going to be wearing it anywhere however, she needed to wear it in New York, not suburban Ohio. She pushed away from the side panel and rounded the vehicle, Jack closing the door quietly.

Jack grabbed his glass from the top of the car and poured out the watered down remains. He and Sam walked across the yard towards the driveway where it led into a gate to the side of the yard. One side of the drive was fenced in with vines climbing in every direction, reaching for more space to spread out.

The house shielded any light coming from the street and made the path dark and hard to see. Jack had his bent down, focused on his thoughts, not paying attention to anything. He stopped suddenly when Sam turned around and stopped abruptly in front of him. He squinted in the dark trying to make out more than just her form.

Sam stood there, trying to find the words for what she wanted to say. She stood in front of this man once again, this man who meant so much to her, and she couldn't articulate a word. She was used to being close to him, even at work. They always stood closer than necessary, their personal spaces violated willingly for the sake of brushing an elbow against the other. Considering when she turned around he was already about to trample her, the distance between them was marginal, even for them.

Almost as a delayed reaction to stop him, she placed her right hand with its long fingers on his chest - right on his heart. He looked down at her realizing that she'd removed her heels and had been walking around barefoot. She was good five or six inches shorter than him without the heels, making him unusually tall compared to her.

Jack saw her biting her lip in uncertainty. The feel of her hand on his chest made his whole body grow warm, chill bumps following soon after. She rubbed her hand slowly on his chest, almost as if she were checking to feel if his heart was still there.

Sam looked up at him searching for his eyes in the darkness. She didn't know what she was doing, standing outside with this man. This man. Not her boss, not a divorcée, but a man.

Suddenly, the world seemed to dissolve, becoming a blurred vision, abstract in all appearances. Elevating her self slowly, she stood on her tip-toes and softly, innocently brushed her lips on the spot between his cheek and his lips. It was a whisper of a kiss, full of heat and passion, without the commitment of its implications. When she returned to her feet, his fingers had interlaced with hers, his palm lightly pressing down on the back of her hand.

Jack's face burned from the touch of her lips, the softest touch elicited a whirl of feeling within him. He knew in his mind that this feeling wouldn't last - that in 12 to 18 months his skin wouldn't tingle beneath her touch; that the "butterflies" would fly away and he would become used to her presence. His heart argued with his brain, conversing through raging chemical signals, battling each other to see which would win. Jack didn't wait to see which was the victor in this battle.

Sam's breath caught in her throat as Jack brought his other hand up and traced her jaw line. His eyes transfixed on hers, he moved slowly, memorizing every detail, every contour. His fingers continued down her neck, following her collarbone across her chest and back again. He smiled at the chill he sent through her body, knowing exactly what she was feeling at that moment. His hand traveled south once again, resting lightly on her heart. Before she could react, he closed the space between them and his lips connected with hers. Quickly blending into the background was all logic - telling them they shouldn't be doing this. Logic coupled with reality - telling them they shouldn't be doing this here, in the middle of Ohio.

The kiss was slow at first, breaking through the months of pain and guilt. Soon their senses were afire, their tongues probed each other's mouths, reclaiming once familiar territory. Sam's fingers glided through his short hair, expressing through action what she herself could not, while her other hand remained on his heart. A small groan escaped Sam's mouth as Jack picked her up for a better position, holding her tightly against him to bring them even closer. Their hearts overrode their minds, and all sensible restraint was disregarded as this seemingly never-ending moment melded their bodies together.

Jack couldn't help it, he smiled. He was kissing this woman and he was smiling. Sam laughed at him, grabbing a short breath while he got over his elation and placed her on the ground once again. He never knew what craving to kiss someone was until he met Sam. Kissing her made him feel like a pregnant woman who'd found what she'd been searching for - and it had been waiting for him the whole time.

It was so hot fireworks began going off - literally. As each ephemeral masterpiece illumined the sky and dissolved into darkness, the two were brought slowly, and regrettably back into reality. Moving from behind her neck, Jack's hand slid to Sam's cheek, cupping it lightly. Ruefully, Sam pulled away with swollen lips that mirrored Jack's and a furious blush.

The smell of honeysuckle was almost overwhelming in the area in which they stood, creating an euphoric effect to follow their fervent kiss. Jack's right hand still cupped Sam's face, unwilling to let go in fear of losing this moment and this feeling. Sam's left hand glided up Jack's arm, she had the efficacy to make Jack feel as if he were tranquilized with a love potion.

Once she reached his hand fireworks went off again and she could see into his eyes. His penetrating gaze burned deeply into her eyes, reflecting the exact flurry of emotion that still remained within each of them. She knew that his eyes betrayed more emotion than anything else; but right here, right now they did not betray him. His eyes willingly portrayed understanding, yearning and affection. These eyes had experienced much pain and tragedy, but they were ready to move on and experience different emotions for a change.

Jack saw everything he needed when he looked into her eyes. He saw a type of warmth and caring that came with her smile - reserved wholly for him. There was no fear, no guilt or regret; just pure unadulterated love and compassion that were patiently waiting to be reciprocated.

Closing her eyes, she turned her head slightly and guided his hand to her lips. The sensation of her lips applying only the slightest pressure to his palm made his knees go weak. At the moment of contact, another group of fireworks went off (Jack knew there was symbolism in that), pulling them fully back to reality. Technically, they were still working, technically they shouldn't be doing this, here in Ohio - the not New York.

She slowly started to retreat towards the backyard, her fingers still intertwined with his. He didn't want to move; he wanted to stay right there and make out with her like a hormonal teenager. But when their arms stretched far enough that she was practically pulling him, he gave way and followed her into the backyard where the large family sat watching the fireworks being shot off from a nearby field.

Sam was fortunate enough to sit in the back seat alone while Jack rode in the front with Agent Pearson on the way to the airport. She never really cried when they ended cases like this, but she developed a melancholic air about her that was difficult to dissolve. She took a deep breath and sighed quietly. She was going to miss Benny. It was sad really, how easily she got attached to kids. Benny was a great kid - full of life and great to be around with a smile that seemed to spread to others. When she said goodbye to him before she left, he tried so hard not to cry, but as the car drove away he ran behind it as fast as his legs could propel him, tears running down his face.

Sam situated herself on the airplane, not inclined in any way to participate in a conversation. She felt discombobulated to say the least. Sam had finally landed from the whirlwind she'd been riding the past few days and the effects made her ability to discern situations and feelings askew. She knew the day before that she should have taken that nap when Jack told her to, but she wanted to check out Jennings' telephone records instead. At that point she hadn't slept in over 24 hours. She was now running on an hours worth of sleep in over two days.

Jack had taken his nap earlier that day, and although he'd been rejuvenated for the afternoon, the lack of sleep had finally caught up to him. He wanted to sleep for two days straight and not bother with the world for twice that amount. His eyes wandered over to Sam after heard an uncharacteristic sniff or two. She looked how he felt. Her eyes were closed with her head against the window resting on a "pillow" that provided little support. They wouldn't talk about what happened for a couple of days, not until the fatigue and sadness were gone. They would have to place an object such as a desk or a car between them before talking, because they both knew what happened when they tried to talk one-on-one.

Before Jack himself dozed off on the short flight, Sam readjusted her position and her leg brushed up against his. Being that she was asleep, it retracted, then slowly gravitated towards his leg warming him all over. When they pulled into La Guardia, Sam's head had inevitably found Jack's shoulder, as it normally did when they took red eye flights back to New York.

She was a hard sleeper, one of those people who would only scoot closer to their electric blanket if it short-circuited and caught on fire. Amazingly enough, he'd found a simple way to wake her up by gently rubbing the bridge of her nose. He found it most peculiar that such an action woke her, but always laughed when she woke up because it took her a while to adjust and get the dazed look off her face.

Sam remained silent as they walked off the plane, carry-on in tow, half- awake and completely exhausted. Jack walked beside her in silence, occasionally grabbing a glance to check her status.

They shared a cab together, although it was slightly out of his way, Jack wasn't about to let Sam ride back alone. They sat together, closer than what was proper, closer than boss and employee, closer than friends. They sat together on the edge of hope with a closed door at their backs and a wide-open field at their feet. In the darkness of the cab, Sam's hand found Jack's and held it tightly, offering with her touch a slight acknowledgment that she knew he too was lost in his thoughts - too tired even think of formulating any sort of sound opinion as to what they should do.

Jack helped Sam get her travel bag out of the trunk, placing it down with care.

"See you day after tomorrow. Get plenty of rest - I don't want to see you using your laptop as a pillow," he said with care in his voice.

His eyes searched hers, seeing hope and anxiousness swirling around with fatigue. She placed her hand on his heart again, but this time Jack pulled it to his mouth and kissed it lightly - returning the favor. She rolled her eyes at him and winked, then turned to go inside, slowly pulling her hand from his grasp before squeezing it tightly and fully letting go. She stopped before reaching the steps to her building and turned around.

"Jack," she called before he climbed into the cab. "Call me if you ever want to go to another cookout."

He smiled at her, knowing full and well that those words could be read different ways. As the taxi drove away, he watched as she got safely inside and smiled at himself. He was moving on with his life and he was happy he had a direction to move towards, because the whole bachelor thing wouldn't nearly be as fun without a goal in mind - a long-legged blond.

He could have stayed at her apartment that night, but they wanted to wait. Wait not only because fatigue had won that night, but because waiting seemed to be the best decision at the time. She understood that he wanted to work things out and get organized before fully pursuing whatever it was that they had. He knew in his heart that it wouldn't be a short-term project.

He shook his head, clearing the fog that had accumulated from sleep depravation. A phrase kept appearing in his mind, one that he used to say when he'd just joined the Bureau - Words were made to give hope, actions were made to affirm it.

Yes, he thought, he would wait until he could wait no more and then he would fully move into action. Until then, words would have to do.
A/N See, it wasn't too painful, just slightly.