Jack Malone POV:

Malone Residence

February 3, 2004

10:15 p.m.

"You seem upset about something," I eye Maria. There's something about her that is bewitching. She's different, but it doesn't seem to be in a bad way.

"I'm just--" she pauses, moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "I love you, Jack." Her voice is reaffirming, and I move to lean down, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Her mouth is warm and her hands move into my hair. Her touch is soft and gentle, reminding me of Samantha's. The way her tongue teases my lips apart has me pull away. The only person I know who kisses like that is Samantha. I shake my head. Has it been that long since I made love with my wife?

"Maria," I whisper her name, and her finger moves to my lips to silence me. She feels down my chest, using her mouth in all the right ways to stir my desire.

The blood is pumping through my veins, and I peel back at the layers of her clothes. "Jack." Her voice is soft and a whisper against my breath.

"Hmmm?" My eyes meet hers and see something mysterious behind them. Is she not the woman I originally fell in love with? Her touch, her voice, her look is the same---and yet so very different. She's enchanting in a way that I can't describe or begin to understand. She reminds me so much of Samantha, but with her, I can't be with the woman I yearn for.

"I want us to--" She chews on her bottom lip, letting out a nervous breath.

"What, sweetheart?"

"Try for another baby."

"Maria!" She quiets my voice with a deep, intense kiss. "Aren't we getting too old for another one? Besides, our own marriage problems won't cease to exist," I let out a breath. "The risks get higher with age," I remind her. She looks troubled by my words. "What is it?" I question.

"Nothing. You're right," she answers, her eyes looking sad and desperately hurt.

"I love you," I tell her, as I kiss away her tears.

"I can't do this," she shakes her head, standing up and heading for the bathroom. She shuts the door, and I feel a pang of guilt. That's twice in one day I've had a woman shut me out. What have I done wrong this time? I don't understand any of what's going on.

Samantha has been acting strange at work, not remembering the case we're working on, claiming to be sick. Maria wants to work things out and have another child. She always said two was more then enough and tried convincing me to get a vasectomy in the past. What is going on? I run my hand through my hair, collapsing against the mattress in a state of utter confusion.

Have I lost the two things in my life that always had meaning: my family and Samantha? Is Sam acting this way because I told her I loved her last night? Was she not ready to hear those words because I'm married? I let out a soft breath. What about Maria? I love her too, but it's a different kind of love. It's not the deep bond we once shared. Now why have things suddenly changed between us---and for the better?

Times passes by, and I close my eyes, lost deep in thought. I don't remember when she comes out of the bathroom, but some time during the night, she climbs into bed beside me.

I run my hand through her hair and in the darkness, her eyes flutter open. "Jack," her voice is soft and warm.

"Yes, sweetheart."

She sits up in bed, glances around and lets out a sigh of defeat, moving in to snuggle against my frame. It's been months since we were intimate and longer since we were affectionate.

"Jack," she eyes me. From beyond those depths, there's something alluring there. "If we got divorced, would you have married Samantha?"

"Excuse me?" My eyes widen, and I can't help the cough that forms in my lungs. "I know I've made mistakes, Maria, but I wouldn't leave you for her."

"I know." Her voice sounds almost disappointed, and I can't understand what's going on or running through her mind.

"Maybe we should try marriage counseling again," I offer. "As long as we're both going to give it our best shot." Her eyes watch mine intently.

"You'll make it on time?"

"Did I ever miss an appointment before?" I question. She's quiet, thinking over a response. "I promise I'll be there."

"Can we afford it?"

"You really want to quit your job?" Her words earlier startled me.

She nods briefly. "I want to be home for the girls. I guess I wanted things like they were and thought if we had a child together," she pauses, "again," and lets out a sigh, "then maybe--"

"Things would be good again?"

"Yeah." Her voice is a soft hush, and the way she says it makes me think of Samantha. Why is this happening? I stand up. "Where are you going?" she questions in a whisper.

"Bathroom," I smile reassuringly and a few minutes later I crawl into bed for some sleep.

***************

Maria Malone POV:

Samantha Spade Residence

February 3, 2004

8:23 p.m.

He's with 'her' again and it's worse than I thought. She gets to play a part of 'my' family. How awful it must be, especially for the girls. Jack can't be kept from the truth any longer. I'll go tomorrow and tell him the truth. Even if he doesn't believe it, he'll have to realize in time what's going on.

I shake my head in dismay, glancing through the fridge. How does she live like this? There are phone numbers on the fridge for take-out but nothing fresh to eat.

I can't believe Jack sent me to see some psychiatrist today---a Lisa Harris. What was he thinking? I didn't even tell him I'm not Samantha! What will he do when he finds out the truth? Will he stay with her and the children? Will he come back to me, because I look like this?

I dial the number for pizza, giving in to the idea of delivery. It's not what I want but I'm too exhausted to go shopping, and I don't have any money on me. Using her bankcard might be a problem, since I don't know her code. How about a credit card?

I sit down in front of the television, surveying the place. It's not a bad apartment to live in; it just seems empty. Maybe that's why she wanted 'my' husband in it with her. I clench my fist, slamming it into the armrest on the couch.

After the pizza arrives, I flip on a movie and relax with some quiet time. Usually I'd tuck the girls into bed, but they're seeing to it that I don't do that. I guess I can't blame them, if Samantha came to the school to get the girls. I let out a sigh. What was I thinking? I'm surprised Jack hasn't pressed charges and tried to get me transferred by now. Then again, maybe the sex between them is so steamy. I let that thought trail off in my mind---until the phone interrupts me.

"Hello?" I answer, afraid I won't know who's calling. I didn't mean to answer it. It was lying right there by the sofa and I picked it up on instinct. Now I'm afraid I won't recognize a voice that would be familiar to Samantha.

"Samantha, its Martin."

"Hey, how are you?" I try to sound friendly. I think he's one of the team members who works with Jack.

"I was concerned; you didn't seem at all like yourself today."

"Oh," I answer silent for another response.

"I know it's none of my business, but I can come over if you'd like?"

I consider the option. If she's screwing up my life, I can screw up hers. For all I know, she's screwing him on the side anyway.

"Thanks, but I'm going to bed in a little while."

"You going to make it in tomorrow?"

"I don't know," I laugh softly, considering the options and excuses I have left. "I could use a vacation," I quip, thinking that maybe Jack would buy into it. "I should go," I tell him, not wanting him to grow suspicious of anything out of the ordinary.

"Bye," he says and I hang up the phone, letting out a sigh. What am I going to do? Jack's been ruining our marriage for as long as I can remember and now I'm on the other side of the fence---I'm the 'other' woman. What a joke!

I head into the bedroom, flip on the television and crawl between the sheets. What will I do if I'm forever stuck in this strange loophole of a life? I can't work at the FBI and I obviously don't have my job to go to. I let out a tired yawn, trying not to think of all the complications that go with this.

It would give me a new life, and a new start---maybe even with Jack again. Although what's to say how long this will last? He'll likely grow tired of the 'affair' and go find some other cheap whore to fuck till all hours of the night.

What will I do? There's one thing that really troubles me, and that's the girls. I can't imagine not being there for them, and letting 'her' raise my children. "No," I shake my head, closing my eyes at the awful thoughts in my mind.