A/N-- Eternal thanks to M, for without her this story would have died a sudden death. Her incredible encouragement and beta were a real story lifesaver. Thanks also to A and S and the rest of my beloved Maple Street, from which I never, ever want to move. ;)
Continued from chapter four.
Chapter Five:
Shuffling through her mail, Samantha almost missed the blinking message light as she made her way into the kitchen. Tossing the envelopes on the counter, she pressed the button and walked to the refrigerator. Expecting a call from work, she stopped in her tracks when she heard his voice.
"Hey, Sam. Just wanted to call and see how things were going in your new assignment. I'll be in an out of the office all day, so if you get this message give me a call back tonight." He went on to leave a number she didn't have to write down.
Dinner forgotten, she stepped closer to the answering machine as if it might lend a clue to the motivation behind Jack's call. Grabbing the portable from its base, she checked the clock. Just after nine. She took a deep breath and dialed.
"Hotel Wolcott."
"Jack Malone's room, please." For a short moment she had contemplated hanging up. Not because she didn't want to talk to him, but because in recent days it had become easier not to think about him, or New York, at all. It was a comforting sense of denial, but as the phone started to ring she felt an odd sort of relief.
"Hello."
"Hey."
The television had been loud in the background, but not anymore. "Hey, how are you?"
"I'm doing well. Long time no speak."
He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that. It's been really busy around here."
It was an excuse, but she hadn't called him either. "It's fine. How are things with you?"
Deciding for the safe approach, he started with work. "We've solved a couple since you... left. One stranger abduction and a woman on the run from her husband. "
"Really?"
"Yeah. She just neglected to tell anyone else that."
"Nice. So, uh, how's your family?"
To anyone else, the question might have seemed callous. Ironic, at the very least. Jack was probably the one person who knew, or could believe, that sincerity existed behind the query. "They're doing fine. Hanna just got a part in the school play; Kate's jealous. Sibling stuff."
"And Marie?"
He stared at the phone. Maybe courage was fueled by distance, but he couldn't remember if Samantha had ever referred to his wife by name. "We're working through some issues."
Diplomatic. "Is that why you're staying at a hotel?"
"We had an argument this morning and I have to be back in the office early. I thought it would be best for both of us to have a night apart." He knew the significance of why he was staying at this hotel wouldn't be lost on Samantha, just as he knew she would recognize the telephone number. The decision not to go home was made early in the day when he realized that he couldn't very well have this conversation with Marie in the next room. Work didn't afford enough time.
It was almost comedic. Checking into a hotel to have an adulterous phone relationship.
"Is that why you're calling me? You had a fight with her?"
I had a fight with her because I haven't been calling you. "No. If anything I wasn't going to call at all."
She had to admire his honesty. "What made you change your mind?"
"I realized I should." He'd realized he should despite all the reasons he shouldn't. Removing Samantha from his life wouldn't remove the conflict from his job or the strain in his marriage, despite what the FBI or his wife believed. "You know, you could have called me."
Standing, she walked out toward the living room. "Calling you is a bit more complicated now." She dropped into a chair. "We need some kind of secret code."
He snorted. "What, like pig latin?"
"Sure."
An awkward moment passed as she considered how to broach the next subject. "How's your leg doing?"
"It's fine. The only time I ever notice it is if I sit down for too long." She didn't add that it was nearly every day. Desk work was proving to be more taxing than her old assignment.
Jack shifted gears. "Do you like the new job?"
She stood and picked up her mail on the way to the kitchen again. "I'm slowly getting settled. I spend most of my days in meetings. It's...different."
"How's their office there? Is it nice?"
"Pretty nice. It's interesting being at the center of everything, but my area shares a floor with the ATF so I feel incredibly dull in comparison."
"Missing persons work is the most exciting aspect of law enforcement." His tone was indignant.
She sat on her bed. "You don't believe that."
"No."
"Who's the section head down there?"
"Assistant Director Nieper."
He knew Nieper. Regarded as one of the best profilers they had on the east coast. 37 years with the bureau; he had to be nearing 70. Jack let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "He's a great agent."
"Yeah."
"Who else do you work with?"
"There are two other people working on the project, but I rarely see them. An older man that mainly works on recruiting and requisitions and then a guy who kind of reminds me of Martin. Idealistic, really motivated. They both seem nice."
"You don't spend any time with them outside the office?"
Raising an eyebrow, she opened the freezer. "In my experience it's usually a bad idea to date in the workplace."
He sighed, but said nothing.
"It's just a different atmosphere here." she clarified. "More political. I go to work, then I come home. I don't come in contact with a lot of people at work and I haven't really been up to socializing."
He knew better than to push. "Just give it time, Sam. You seemed to have a hard time adjusting when you first came here, too."
She had. The jump from the NYPD to the government had been a big one, but she could credit the difficulty there to the difference in bureaucracy. It wasn't that simple this time. "I got over that pretty quickly, though."
Leaning against the counter, she began opening the mail. "I talked to Danny. He said things have been going along smoothly there."
"It's been okay."
"How is Melissa?"
He coughed, and she wondered if he was stalling for time. "She's not you."
She smiled into the phone, remaining silent.
A few seconds passed. "Did you find a decent place to live?"
"It doesn't have the charm of my last apartment, but it's adequate." She looked at the empty walls. She hesitated to decorate because she had chosen to believe that this was temporary, that she'd be going back. Now she wondered how much time had to pass before she faced the reality of the situation.
He smirked. "I've been to your old apartment. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"Yeah, well."
He heard a rustling sound. "What are you doing?"
"Fixing dinner." she replied, opening the microwave.
He looked at his watch. "You're just now eating?"
"And that surprises you?"
She had a point. After a few years in their line of work one quickly became accustomed to eating on the loosest of schedules. "Lean Cuisine?"
"Which kind? Orange beef?"
"Baked chicken."
"I almost said baked chicken."
She laughed. It was rare that she saw this side of Jack, and she felt their old comfort level starting to reemerge. "It was my only option. I have bottled water and cereal bars in my fridge right now."
"No takeout?"
"It's just not the same here."
The last statement seemed almost resigned, and he wondered if she was talking about more than the food. "I'm sure you'll find something. It's only been a few weeks."
"Maybe."
It was getting late. "I'm meeting Danny tomorrow at 5am to head upstate-- three interviews near Albany. I should be going."
"Me too." She didn't have to go, didn't want to go, but prolonging the conversation would only make it more difficult later. She realized too late that this was their first real conversation not as a boss and subordinate, not as lovers, but as friends.
Now he was in New York, she was in D.C., and a marriage and several hundred miles stood between them. Maybe it would be simpler to say goodbye for good. She was considering just that when he spoke again.
"Do you want to have dinner Friday?"
She stopped in her tracks. "Excuse me?"
"One of our cases just got transferred to headquarters as part of a fraud investigation. It might be advantageous for the receiving agents to get briefed by the lead on the case."
She shook her head, slightly incredulous. "Which would be you." At his answering silence, she continued. "Wouldn't that look a little contrived?"
"As long as any loose ends are tied up on our existing cases, I don't think it matters how it looks."
"I don't know if it's a good idea. I mean, your marriage..."
"...will be here when I get back. I'm not propositioning you; it's just a case-enabled reason to have dinner together."
Closing her eyes for a moment, she ran through all the logical reasons she should say no before answering.
"Friday's good."
TBC
Continued from chapter four.
Chapter Five:
Shuffling through her mail, Samantha almost missed the blinking message light as she made her way into the kitchen. Tossing the envelopes on the counter, she pressed the button and walked to the refrigerator. Expecting a call from work, she stopped in her tracks when she heard his voice.
"Hey, Sam. Just wanted to call and see how things were going in your new assignment. I'll be in an out of the office all day, so if you get this message give me a call back tonight." He went on to leave a number she didn't have to write down.
Dinner forgotten, she stepped closer to the answering machine as if it might lend a clue to the motivation behind Jack's call. Grabbing the portable from its base, she checked the clock. Just after nine. She took a deep breath and dialed.
"Hotel Wolcott."
"Jack Malone's room, please." For a short moment she had contemplated hanging up. Not because she didn't want to talk to him, but because in recent days it had become easier not to think about him, or New York, at all. It was a comforting sense of denial, but as the phone started to ring she felt an odd sort of relief.
"Hello."
"Hey."
The television had been loud in the background, but not anymore. "Hey, how are you?"
"I'm doing well. Long time no speak."
He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that. It's been really busy around here."
It was an excuse, but she hadn't called him either. "It's fine. How are things with you?"
Deciding for the safe approach, he started with work. "We've solved a couple since you... left. One stranger abduction and a woman on the run from her husband. "
"Really?"
"Yeah. She just neglected to tell anyone else that."
"Nice. So, uh, how's your family?"
To anyone else, the question might have seemed callous. Ironic, at the very least. Jack was probably the one person who knew, or could believe, that sincerity existed behind the query. "They're doing fine. Hanna just got a part in the school play; Kate's jealous. Sibling stuff."
"And Marie?"
He stared at the phone. Maybe courage was fueled by distance, but he couldn't remember if Samantha had ever referred to his wife by name. "We're working through some issues."
Diplomatic. "Is that why you're staying at a hotel?"
"We had an argument this morning and I have to be back in the office early. I thought it would be best for both of us to have a night apart." He knew the significance of why he was staying at this hotel wouldn't be lost on Samantha, just as he knew she would recognize the telephone number. The decision not to go home was made early in the day when he realized that he couldn't very well have this conversation with Marie in the next room. Work didn't afford enough time.
It was almost comedic. Checking into a hotel to have an adulterous phone relationship.
"Is that why you're calling me? You had a fight with her?"
I had a fight with her because I haven't been calling you. "No. If anything I wasn't going to call at all."
She had to admire his honesty. "What made you change your mind?"
"I realized I should." He'd realized he should despite all the reasons he shouldn't. Removing Samantha from his life wouldn't remove the conflict from his job or the strain in his marriage, despite what the FBI or his wife believed. "You know, you could have called me."
Standing, she walked out toward the living room. "Calling you is a bit more complicated now." She dropped into a chair. "We need some kind of secret code."
He snorted. "What, like pig latin?"
"Sure."
An awkward moment passed as she considered how to broach the next subject. "How's your leg doing?"
"It's fine. The only time I ever notice it is if I sit down for too long." She didn't add that it was nearly every day. Desk work was proving to be more taxing than her old assignment.
Jack shifted gears. "Do you like the new job?"
She stood and picked up her mail on the way to the kitchen again. "I'm slowly getting settled. I spend most of my days in meetings. It's...different."
"How's their office there? Is it nice?"
"Pretty nice. It's interesting being at the center of everything, but my area shares a floor with the ATF so I feel incredibly dull in comparison."
"Missing persons work is the most exciting aspect of law enforcement." His tone was indignant.
She sat on her bed. "You don't believe that."
"No."
"Who's the section head down there?"
"Assistant Director Nieper."
He knew Nieper. Regarded as one of the best profilers they had on the east coast. 37 years with the bureau; he had to be nearing 70. Jack let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "He's a great agent."
"Yeah."
"Who else do you work with?"
"There are two other people working on the project, but I rarely see them. An older man that mainly works on recruiting and requisitions and then a guy who kind of reminds me of Martin. Idealistic, really motivated. They both seem nice."
"You don't spend any time with them outside the office?"
Raising an eyebrow, she opened the freezer. "In my experience it's usually a bad idea to date in the workplace."
He sighed, but said nothing.
"It's just a different atmosphere here." she clarified. "More political. I go to work, then I come home. I don't come in contact with a lot of people at work and I haven't really been up to socializing."
He knew better than to push. "Just give it time, Sam. You seemed to have a hard time adjusting when you first came here, too."
She had. The jump from the NYPD to the government had been a big one, but she could credit the difficulty there to the difference in bureaucracy. It wasn't that simple this time. "I got over that pretty quickly, though."
Leaning against the counter, she began opening the mail. "I talked to Danny. He said things have been going along smoothly there."
"It's been okay."
"How is Melissa?"
He coughed, and she wondered if he was stalling for time. "She's not you."
She smiled into the phone, remaining silent.
A few seconds passed. "Did you find a decent place to live?"
"It doesn't have the charm of my last apartment, but it's adequate." She looked at the empty walls. She hesitated to decorate because she had chosen to believe that this was temporary, that she'd be going back. Now she wondered how much time had to pass before she faced the reality of the situation.
He smirked. "I've been to your old apartment. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"Yeah, well."
He heard a rustling sound. "What are you doing?"
"Fixing dinner." she replied, opening the microwave.
He looked at his watch. "You're just now eating?"
"And that surprises you?"
She had a point. After a few years in their line of work one quickly became accustomed to eating on the loosest of schedules. "Lean Cuisine?"
"Which kind? Orange beef?"
"Baked chicken."
"I almost said baked chicken."
She laughed. It was rare that she saw this side of Jack, and she felt their old comfort level starting to reemerge. "It was my only option. I have bottled water and cereal bars in my fridge right now."
"No takeout?"
"It's just not the same here."
The last statement seemed almost resigned, and he wondered if she was talking about more than the food. "I'm sure you'll find something. It's only been a few weeks."
"Maybe."
It was getting late. "I'm meeting Danny tomorrow at 5am to head upstate-- three interviews near Albany. I should be going."
"Me too." She didn't have to go, didn't want to go, but prolonging the conversation would only make it more difficult later. She realized too late that this was their first real conversation not as a boss and subordinate, not as lovers, but as friends.
Now he was in New York, she was in D.C., and a marriage and several hundred miles stood between them. Maybe it would be simpler to say goodbye for good. She was considering just that when he spoke again.
"Do you want to have dinner Friday?"
She stopped in her tracks. "Excuse me?"
"One of our cases just got transferred to headquarters as part of a fraud investigation. It might be advantageous for the receiving agents to get briefed by the lead on the case."
She shook her head, slightly incredulous. "Which would be you." At his answering silence, she continued. "Wouldn't that look a little contrived?"
"As long as any loose ends are tied up on our existing cases, I don't think it matters how it looks."
"I don't know if it's a good idea. I mean, your marriage..."
"...will be here when I get back. I'm not propositioning you; it's just a case-enabled reason to have dinner together."
Closing her eyes for a moment, she ran through all the logical reasons she should say no before answering.
"Friday's good."
TBC
