Chapter Two
E-mail: deiab_x@hotmail.com if you feel like it, send me a feed, I'll be glad to read it =] and you can always review too.
Spoiler: There will be mentions of 'The Bus' and 'Our Sons and Daughters' in this chapter. I know most people have already seen them but some people aren't as luck as us and haven't seen them yet. To those people who haven't, I'll pray for you. ;] (I live in Brazil and fortunately here we are only two episodes behind!)
Disclaimer: They are all property of someone other than me. Don't sue me, you'll end up losing coz I don't have any money.
Author's note: First, I need to thank Alyssa for her help, she's beta-ing this history for me. Thank you Alyssa! I'm so glad you guys like it. Thank you all the reviews, they really cheer me up! Clo, I don't speak French, however, I understood what you meant, thanks for your review. I was reading a fanfic (Moving On) and found similar things in my fanfic and I swear I didn't copy it! I had this chapter done before I read the fanfic. It was all mere coincidence. I'd have posted it before but my computer needed a 'check up' and I was without it for the past two days . . .
I know nothing about Samantha Spade's past and her relationship with her mother. Anything written in here is mere presumption and if you know something I don't then feel free to correct me, I'll appreciate that. J/S implied in this chapter. There is nothing graphic, only thoughts. I believe Martin and Sam will kiss in this chapter, I am not sure though, we'll see how my imagination is going.
Also a random note (I promise is the last one) did you guys know Sam and Martin will get together on the show? I read it somewhere, they said it'll be kind of a love triangle, but I hope Sam and Martin work it out and their romance lasts. It'll happen around third season (I think) so this means we'll have another one. Yay!!
"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." - By the person who put it on the shirt I bought this week. ^_~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She wouldn't have the time to think for the rest of the day. As soon as Martin had sat at his desk, Jack arrived, already calling everyone and showing a picture of a dark blond girl, 16 years old who hadn't made it home after coming from school. That was all Sam knew because she was so out in space she didn't pay attention to Jack's words and several times she drifted off from his voice, thinking about Martin. The time she finally forced herself to focus on the task at hand was when Jack had called her a few times before Sam heard him.
She looked at Jack to meet his concerned gaze and mumbled a 'sorry' then asked him to repeat. As she listened she could feel eyes on her and looked around to see Viv and Danny looking weirdly at her and Martin's worried gaze, which was screaming 'are you ok?', he was the only one who hadn't averted her eyes or was looking at her like she was feeling ill or something.
"Danny," Jack spoke up, getting Sam's attention again. "I want you to go speak with Casey Anderson." Oh yeah, the girl who last saw Jessica, the missing girl, Sam remembered that. She had heard it vaguely. "Viv, you and I are going to speak with some people from school." And finally he looked at Sam, what made her foreseen what was coming. "Sam, you and Martin go talk to the parents." He knew how good Sam was speaking with people and how she was able to handle Martin, since he almost always got himself into some kind of trouble or crossed the lines that shouldn't be crossed.
She opened her mouth to speak, to ask him to trade partners - the last thing she needed was to be with Martin - but she never spoke a word since everyone was already leaving. She looked down and sighed heavily, just wanting this day to end, she just needed some time to think about what to do and with Martin with her it would be pretty difficult.
"Seems you're stuck with me," Martin said as he walked by her.
Casting a quickly look at Martin as she rose, she saw he was already leaving. He walked past her half expecting her to come along and wasn't disappointed when she finally stood and joined him but perceptively distant, as in mind as in body, something that didn't pass by him unnoticed, which made him wonder.
~~~~*~~~~
From the FBI to the Danes' residence - the parents of the missing teenager - no one spoke a single word. Sam didn't feel like talking and thought Martin sensed it because he didn't make any attempt to do small talk - putting them under a weird silence, very different from the one shared earlier, in the ride to the restaurant, when the silence was welcoming. Now it was discomforting and too much tension was felt. This time Samantha didn't dare to look at him nor stare at his features, wondering how handsome he was. Instead she kept looking at the road ahead of her.
When they had finally arrived at Danes', Sam thanked god silently for that, the tension inside the car was already too thick for her to bear. Now she got to talk with the parents and had it as an excuse not to talk with him because as confused as she was right now she could say something that she would regret later or something that would make him feel bad for no reason.
She needed to think first then talk to him after that, but hadn't had enough time to do so, or had she? She loved him, end of history, shouldn't it be this way? But it wasn't that easy. After the wicked voice in her head - the one which always bugged you - told her silently 'what if he doesn't love you? Would you be willing to threaten a great friendship?' Sam had started to worry, because it was true. She didn't know if she could get a 'no' answer. She wasn't sure of what he would do. Weren't all the touches, the soft words, the concerned and caring glances supposed to be some kind of sign of what he felt? Could he be such a good actor or was she simply misreading his true feelings? And . . . darn! How could she think straight if all she could focus was the joy she felt just by being next to him?
Now they were sitting in the living room, waiting peacefully for Mr. Danes to bring his wife downstairs to talk to them. Sam knew very well how hard it was to the parents - especially to the mother - to face the fact that their child was someplace they knew not, where they couldn't take care of them, and the worst was not knowing if they were still alive. They had been through this situation way too many times - not the missing someone part, of course, but having to talk to the parents and see how hurt they were. But that was a good thing about it though; she hadn't to think about herself for a while. As devilish as it might sound it was true. But she shouldn't rejoice with someone else's problem though.
The interview was as usual, the same repetitive questions like:
'Do you or your child have any enemies?'
'Do you know of someone who would want to harm your family?'
'Did you notice anything strange or out of ordinary lately?'
'Was your kid acting strangely?'
And so on, and as usual the answers never helped, most of the times they didn't, the parents always ended up saying nothing wrong happened. Every time a teenager kid was missing, rarely the parents could be of any help for they were oblivious of their child's life and whereabouts outside the home. Just like that girl, Jennifer, who used to go to those parties after school, which turned out to be orgies. She was only sixteen and going to orgies. And her parents had no idea what she was doing and got a boy killed unfairly.
"We'll do whatever within our power to find her, Mrs. Danes." Sam said sympathetically when the young woman - too young to have a 16-year-old girl, Sam thought - started to cry.
"Thank you." The young woman said faintly. "I really…" she started but was cut off by another voice.
"Mommy, what's wrong?" They all turned when a young voice reached them in the room and saw the young owner of it stepping inside - who had obviously just entered the house - with a puzzled look on her face.
"Hi." Sam said first, smiling to the young girl, who had no idea of what was happening, and looked back to the elder Danes, a questioning look on her face.
"Oh," Mr. Danes said first, his wife too busy trying to wipe the tears away to say anything. "This is Carolyn, our younger daughter. She's eleven."
"Daddy, what's happening?" The confused child looked from her parents to the strangers in her house. "You called Grace's telling me to come right away, what's wrong?"
"Sir, I'm sorry but I believe you know we need to ask her a few questions." Martin finally spoke, looking at Mr. Danes, waiting for his permission and at his nod, Martin mentioned for Carolyn to sit, which she did without resistance.
Sam, who was blessed with the skill of talking with people, spoke first, her sweet way of dealing with children, making everything easy. Martin always wondered how she could get through someone and make them open up like they have known each other for years. The girl said everything she knew - as tears formed in her eyes and dropped to her cheeks. But just like her parents, she wasn't of much help either and soon the agents were upstairs looking around Jessica's belongings, in search of something helpful.
Sam was looking in the girl's desk, where her computer laid silently - and told the parents they'd have to bring the computer to the FBI to deep inspection of something that could help - when her eyes met a framed picture of three teenagers girls, probably the same age, one of which was Jessica, holding each other and smiling happily to the camera. She brought it up to look at it more closely, remembering of when she herself was a teenager, and used to hang out with her two best friends, which were so different from each other but so much alike at the same time.
Memories of when they were having fun together were one of the things that made her forget her painful past, the times they shared was one of the things that made her past less painful.
"Sam?"
She heard him calling, and like always his voice was held such concern and caring that amazed her, what made her want to cry when she realized at that very moment that Martin was one of the reasons that made her present life less painful. He would be one of the memories she would hang on to in the future to make this part right now worth living. She loved him and finally realized that that was all that mattered in the whole world. "Yeah?" she replied without looking at him, worried he would see, what she just thought, in her eyes.
"Are we done here?" She noticed he quickly changed his mind of what he was going to ask: 'are you ok?' or something like that. He changed the words but the meaning behind them stayed the same.
"Yes." She said firmly with a nod hoping he would understand too and when he gave her a small nod matched with a small smile she knew he had. She followed him downstairs and exchanged their good byes with the family before leaving, each one hoping they'd be seeing the other again really soon and hopefully for the last time.
~~~~*~~~~
"Are you mad at me or something?" he asked her so quietly and with such an innocence she wanted to kick herself for making him feel bad. In spite of the situation his voice was soft and Sam could hear the slight hurt in it. She wanted to kick herself again. He was probably blaming himself for her behavior, trying to discover what he had done to cause her sudden quiet attitude.
"No!" She shook her head, wanting desperately to touch him, to tell him everything she felt and make all his doubts go away. "It's not you fault. It's just . . ." She sighed and looked quickly at him, trying to find the right words, the right thing to say. "The last couple of days have been particularly hard and exhausting. I just have a lot of thinking to do and no time to do it." She said and truly hoped it was enough, that he would understand and let it go.
A few seconds of silence later - Sam was sure it were only a few seconds - passed without any word until Martin spoke up again, his voice as soft as it was before. "You noticed it too?" His voice so small and afraid of what himself was saying, they barely made it out of his mouth.
Her head snapped up to look at him, Sam completely surprised by his words. Although she was totally startled she understood the real meaning behind those words, half happy he actually felt it too, half scared to death of what would come next. She gave him a small nod. "Yes." She had to be honest, it was all she had been thinking about and lying to him was out of question. "I did."
He nodded too and said nothing else, words not needed at that very moment, and both knew that, they remained quiet for the rest of the ride.
~~~~*~~~~
As Sam opened her door and stepped inside her apartment, she thought how wonderful it was to finally be home and that was the very fist time she thought something like that. She had never really wanted to be at home. The longing to be working, doing something out there was much stronger than the longing to go back to her empty and cold apartment. It was comfy and comfortable, of course, it was her home after all, but when she was depressed even the best place in the world was the worst to be. Even being her home, it still was empty and the only thing she had there were her own shadows to company.
She threw her keys on the living room table and took her coat off as she walked to her bedroom, passing by some of the few pictures she had from her not so far away past, hanging on the wall. She stopped, her coat hanging only by part of the collar in her hand, to admire a photo of her and her mother, probably the only one. A smile - one of the few true smiles she managed to give, though she was only five year old and the world was still a wonder to be discovered - playing on her lips, showing the camera how happy she was while her mother embraced her and had a smile of her own.
Unfortunately happy memories were something she had not the luck to have a grand amount of. As she was growing up her life was becoming less and less pleasant, she didn't know why it occurred, what exactly happened to her family to make them fall apart because the impact of what was happening only hit her when she tried to run away but was caught by her mother at the bus stop, a look on her face that Sam would never forget. The walk back home was silently, the most unpleasant silence she had presented in her life till that moment and that was the reason she started to wonder, searching inside her head what had happened.
Shaking her head to shush these depressing thoughts, she resumed the walk to her bedroom. The day had been exhausting, not something of much surprise, it was rare when a day at the FBI was a calm one. She had been working there for quite a while now but it still surprised her at how many people went missing every day; and if her mother hadn't found her at the bus stop she would be in the enormous never found part of the population. If she hadn't, Sam thought sternly, what she believed at that time that it would happen. She thought her mother didn't care enough to even come after her.
But if her mother hadn't found her, than she would never have gotten into the FBI - for she wouldn't have the money to pay for a college education or any money to be honest - and consequently never met Martin. So, in one way or another, her mother was part cause of her present state of bliss. She could have never thought, in her younger days, her mother would possibly cause her any happiness than the pain she was causing then.
Thinking of Martin, somehow, made things easier. As he was the topic of the moment, thinking about unpleasant things were easy as long as he was somewhere for her, close enough she could hang on to him, thought, deep she knew, no matter where he was she could count on him, no matter how far away she was he would be were she needed him to be, when she needed him to be.
This thought brought a smile to her lips and a feeling of unfamiliar relief. It was a bit strange she could feel that way towards someone, being independent as she was, making everyone believe she could take care of everything alone without the help of people who was only doing this out of pity. That was what she thought. Martin's help wasn't out of pity; when he did this he was being Martin, truly him. And the thought that she might need him in any way frightened her a bit because since she left her mother's house she promised herself she would never need anyone, or she would try as best as she could.
She wouldn't be able to keep this promise. She was young when she made it and too hurt to put it behind her. But she wasn't a child anymore and she knew that love was your worst insecurity, but yet, was the only thing that would give you strength enough to keep going. She felt with Martin what she hadn't felt with Jack. What she hadn't felt with anyone before.
With Jack she couldn't express her love the way she wanted to - or what she thought was love - because they always had to meet at dark motel rooms, steal glances and looks and never let their guard down for someone could notice and catch them. This wasn't what she wanted her life to be. Deep down she knew she would never have him but she kept hanging on to the idea that one day he would be only hers, though he had already a family. She was tired of living like that, always looking back as she walked the other way, never could smile at him in public or touch him or say something without thinking very hard about what she was going to say. She was thinking about ending their sinned affair but Jack was quicker and did it for her.
Now, with Martin, it was completely different. It was like she had gotten out of the darkness to step out into the light. Touches and looks were allowed; she would have to hide nothing from any body, she no longer would have to go to hidden and dark motels. With Jack she loved the idea of being in love but with Martin, she loved him and was in love with him.
Samantha sat on her bed and took her shoes off, throwing them somewhere near the closet door, where two other pairs of shoes were discarded sometime before saying to herself she would put them away later and had forgotten about it, and now the new pair joined would probably have the same fate until Sam decided it was time to put them in their places. She debated for a few seconds on which pajamas wear and when she had decided, she started a battle inside herself whether to get up to put them on or stay on the bed for a little longer. It was rather difficult choosing. She noticed both beholding the fair battle, both sides possessing equal strength. Waiting to see which side would win she leaned back to rest her back on the bed, but what her clothed back touched was something hard instead of the softness of her mattress.
She got up again and turned to see what her back had made contact with and saw her discarded telephone, which she had threw on the bed early that day, after Jack's call. She took the cold object in her hand and considered her options of what to do with it. It would be a simple choice had her mind not had so many things in it that moment. She considered just putting it in its place or making a good use of the weapon she had in hands. That was quite strong word to a simple telephone, but to Samantha, the results of its use would be the same as if she had used a powerful weapon.
She laid the telephone on the bed, right in front of her and stared at it as if that small, mute and inanimate object would give her the right answer like a magic ball. Crossing her legs in Indian style she took the phone in her hands again and, as she sighed, she pushed the speed dial quickly fighting back the thought of hanging up and going sleep. Though the strength to do that was really big, she kept her Samantha Spade perseverance and brought the phone to her ear, listening to it calling.
She tapped her knee slightly, remembering a song long ago she had heard, trying to stay calm and focusing on what she was going to say. She widened her eyes as realization hit her. What was she going to say? She couldn't just call and not know what to say or the reason she was calling. Martin would want to know why she was calling, wouldn't he?
As quickly as she had dialed his number she hung up the phone and put it harshly in front of her. "You could have warned me!" She mumbled to the phone almost believing it could hear her. "Damn." What to say? What to say . . .
She tapped her fingers on her knee again. It wasn't so hard, she just have to make up an excuse to call him and there were a lot of good excuses she could use, she just wanted to hear his voice, even for a few minutes. If she wanted to hear him, it needn't to be on the phone right? He had called her to have a drink once and she used it as a rain check, what came very in hand later, just when she needed a friend the most. She could use it again, call him and ask if he wanted to have a drink.
She looked at the clock on her nightstand and saw it was only seven, not too late to call. She would call, they would set a place, they would meet at this place, drink, talk and each one would go to their perspective homes. Simple.
What if he says no? Damn that little wicked voice in the bottom of your head.
But what if he said no? What would she do? She bit her inner cheek, thinking about how humiliated and how sad she would get. This brought another thought in her head; what if he had plans for tonight already? What if he had a date? What if . . . but wait! He wouldn't have a date if what he said inside the car was true, nor would he say no. There was no reason for that.
Sam took the phone again and dialed quickly before she could change her mind. As the rings came and went she started to feel more nervous, wondering where he was, what he was doing, with whom . . . "Hello?"
She almost jumped out of the bed, startled by his voice, suddenly coming back completely to earth again. He was home after all. "Hmm, hi, Martin?"
"Oh, hi Sam," he sounded disturbed and curious and she thought it was because he wanted to know why she was calling.
"I was home and thinking…" She bit her lower lip and used the other hand to wipe the sweat that was forming on her forehead away. She was as nervous as a schoolgirl talking to her first crush. She sighed and chuckled silently. She was so silly that it startled her. "I was just thinking if maybe you would want to have drink tonight." Please say yes. She prayed silently, crossing her fingers, asking God to allow this suffering moment to pass quickly, with him saying yes.
"Sure. What time?"
She breathed out a sigh of relief, thank you god. Now she knew there was a good god somewhere. "About . . . half an hour sound good?"
"Perfect, at the same place as the last time?"
The question caught her by surprise. She was so focused that he would say no she hadn't thought about a place or what time or anything. Maybe it was a sign he had said the same place the last time and she remembered how good it had went. "Sounds good," she answered and was sure he could feel the smile on her lips.
"Ok. See you then."
"See you." She replied and hung up, her heart pounding considerably slower and weighing much less. She laid back and looked up at the ceiling after putting the telephone away, focusing on the adorned plaster. "Thank you god," she said softly and got up to change before she got too late to do anything than put her shoes back on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
End of chapter two. I'm sorry, I know I said they'd kiss in this chapter but I didn't get where I want to. I know exactly where, how, and why they will kiss; I just need to get them there. I guess it'll be in the next chapter, but don't kill me if this doesn't happen and don't forget your reviews. I love them!
I re-posted this chapter coz there was a few mistakes and Alyssa (my brand new beta reader) helped me to right this.
E-mail: deiab_x@hotmail.com if you feel like it, send me a feed, I'll be glad to read it =] and you can always review too.
Spoiler: There will be mentions of 'The Bus' and 'Our Sons and Daughters' in this chapter. I know most people have already seen them but some people aren't as luck as us and haven't seen them yet. To those people who haven't, I'll pray for you. ;] (I live in Brazil and fortunately here we are only two episodes behind!)
Disclaimer: They are all property of someone other than me. Don't sue me, you'll end up losing coz I don't have any money.
Author's note: First, I need to thank Alyssa for her help, she's beta-ing this history for me. Thank you Alyssa! I'm so glad you guys like it. Thank you all the reviews, they really cheer me up! Clo, I don't speak French, however, I understood what you meant, thanks for your review. I was reading a fanfic (Moving On) and found similar things in my fanfic and I swear I didn't copy it! I had this chapter done before I read the fanfic. It was all mere coincidence. I'd have posted it before but my computer needed a 'check up' and I was without it for the past two days . . .
I know nothing about Samantha Spade's past and her relationship with her mother. Anything written in here is mere presumption and if you know something I don't then feel free to correct me, I'll appreciate that. J/S implied in this chapter. There is nothing graphic, only thoughts. I believe Martin and Sam will kiss in this chapter, I am not sure though, we'll see how my imagination is going.
Also a random note (I promise is the last one) did you guys know Sam and Martin will get together on the show? I read it somewhere, they said it'll be kind of a love triangle, but I hope Sam and Martin work it out and their romance lasts. It'll happen around third season (I think) so this means we'll have another one. Yay!!
"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." - By the person who put it on the shirt I bought this week. ^_~
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She wouldn't have the time to think for the rest of the day. As soon as Martin had sat at his desk, Jack arrived, already calling everyone and showing a picture of a dark blond girl, 16 years old who hadn't made it home after coming from school. That was all Sam knew because she was so out in space she didn't pay attention to Jack's words and several times she drifted off from his voice, thinking about Martin. The time she finally forced herself to focus on the task at hand was when Jack had called her a few times before Sam heard him.
She looked at Jack to meet his concerned gaze and mumbled a 'sorry' then asked him to repeat. As she listened she could feel eyes on her and looked around to see Viv and Danny looking weirdly at her and Martin's worried gaze, which was screaming 'are you ok?', he was the only one who hadn't averted her eyes or was looking at her like she was feeling ill or something.
"Danny," Jack spoke up, getting Sam's attention again. "I want you to go speak with Casey Anderson." Oh yeah, the girl who last saw Jessica, the missing girl, Sam remembered that. She had heard it vaguely. "Viv, you and I are going to speak with some people from school." And finally he looked at Sam, what made her foreseen what was coming. "Sam, you and Martin go talk to the parents." He knew how good Sam was speaking with people and how she was able to handle Martin, since he almost always got himself into some kind of trouble or crossed the lines that shouldn't be crossed.
She opened her mouth to speak, to ask him to trade partners - the last thing she needed was to be with Martin - but she never spoke a word since everyone was already leaving. She looked down and sighed heavily, just wanting this day to end, she just needed some time to think about what to do and with Martin with her it would be pretty difficult.
"Seems you're stuck with me," Martin said as he walked by her.
Casting a quickly look at Martin as she rose, she saw he was already leaving. He walked past her half expecting her to come along and wasn't disappointed when she finally stood and joined him but perceptively distant, as in mind as in body, something that didn't pass by him unnoticed, which made him wonder.
~~~~*~~~~
From the FBI to the Danes' residence - the parents of the missing teenager - no one spoke a single word. Sam didn't feel like talking and thought Martin sensed it because he didn't make any attempt to do small talk - putting them under a weird silence, very different from the one shared earlier, in the ride to the restaurant, when the silence was welcoming. Now it was discomforting and too much tension was felt. This time Samantha didn't dare to look at him nor stare at his features, wondering how handsome he was. Instead she kept looking at the road ahead of her.
When they had finally arrived at Danes', Sam thanked god silently for that, the tension inside the car was already too thick for her to bear. Now she got to talk with the parents and had it as an excuse not to talk with him because as confused as she was right now she could say something that she would regret later or something that would make him feel bad for no reason.
She needed to think first then talk to him after that, but hadn't had enough time to do so, or had she? She loved him, end of history, shouldn't it be this way? But it wasn't that easy. After the wicked voice in her head - the one which always bugged you - told her silently 'what if he doesn't love you? Would you be willing to threaten a great friendship?' Sam had started to worry, because it was true. She didn't know if she could get a 'no' answer. She wasn't sure of what he would do. Weren't all the touches, the soft words, the concerned and caring glances supposed to be some kind of sign of what he felt? Could he be such a good actor or was she simply misreading his true feelings? And . . . darn! How could she think straight if all she could focus was the joy she felt just by being next to him?
Now they were sitting in the living room, waiting peacefully for Mr. Danes to bring his wife downstairs to talk to them. Sam knew very well how hard it was to the parents - especially to the mother - to face the fact that their child was someplace they knew not, where they couldn't take care of them, and the worst was not knowing if they were still alive. They had been through this situation way too many times - not the missing someone part, of course, but having to talk to the parents and see how hurt they were. But that was a good thing about it though; she hadn't to think about herself for a while. As devilish as it might sound it was true. But she shouldn't rejoice with someone else's problem though.
The interview was as usual, the same repetitive questions like:
'Do you or your child have any enemies?'
'Do you know of someone who would want to harm your family?'
'Did you notice anything strange or out of ordinary lately?'
'Was your kid acting strangely?'
And so on, and as usual the answers never helped, most of the times they didn't, the parents always ended up saying nothing wrong happened. Every time a teenager kid was missing, rarely the parents could be of any help for they were oblivious of their child's life and whereabouts outside the home. Just like that girl, Jennifer, who used to go to those parties after school, which turned out to be orgies. She was only sixteen and going to orgies. And her parents had no idea what she was doing and got a boy killed unfairly.
"We'll do whatever within our power to find her, Mrs. Danes." Sam said sympathetically when the young woman - too young to have a 16-year-old girl, Sam thought - started to cry.
"Thank you." The young woman said faintly. "I really…" she started but was cut off by another voice.
"Mommy, what's wrong?" They all turned when a young voice reached them in the room and saw the young owner of it stepping inside - who had obviously just entered the house - with a puzzled look on her face.
"Hi." Sam said first, smiling to the young girl, who had no idea of what was happening, and looked back to the elder Danes, a questioning look on her face.
"Oh," Mr. Danes said first, his wife too busy trying to wipe the tears away to say anything. "This is Carolyn, our younger daughter. She's eleven."
"Daddy, what's happening?" The confused child looked from her parents to the strangers in her house. "You called Grace's telling me to come right away, what's wrong?"
"Sir, I'm sorry but I believe you know we need to ask her a few questions." Martin finally spoke, looking at Mr. Danes, waiting for his permission and at his nod, Martin mentioned for Carolyn to sit, which she did without resistance.
Sam, who was blessed with the skill of talking with people, spoke first, her sweet way of dealing with children, making everything easy. Martin always wondered how she could get through someone and make them open up like they have known each other for years. The girl said everything she knew - as tears formed in her eyes and dropped to her cheeks. But just like her parents, she wasn't of much help either and soon the agents were upstairs looking around Jessica's belongings, in search of something helpful.
Sam was looking in the girl's desk, where her computer laid silently - and told the parents they'd have to bring the computer to the FBI to deep inspection of something that could help - when her eyes met a framed picture of three teenagers girls, probably the same age, one of which was Jessica, holding each other and smiling happily to the camera. She brought it up to look at it more closely, remembering of when she herself was a teenager, and used to hang out with her two best friends, which were so different from each other but so much alike at the same time.
Memories of when they were having fun together were one of the things that made her forget her painful past, the times they shared was one of the things that made her past less painful.
"Sam?"
She heard him calling, and like always his voice was held such concern and caring that amazed her, what made her want to cry when she realized at that very moment that Martin was one of the reasons that made her present life less painful. He would be one of the memories she would hang on to in the future to make this part right now worth living. She loved him and finally realized that that was all that mattered in the whole world. "Yeah?" she replied without looking at him, worried he would see, what she just thought, in her eyes.
"Are we done here?" She noticed he quickly changed his mind of what he was going to ask: 'are you ok?' or something like that. He changed the words but the meaning behind them stayed the same.
"Yes." She said firmly with a nod hoping he would understand too and when he gave her a small nod matched with a small smile she knew he had. She followed him downstairs and exchanged their good byes with the family before leaving, each one hoping they'd be seeing the other again really soon and hopefully for the last time.
~~~~*~~~~
"Are you mad at me or something?" he asked her so quietly and with such an innocence she wanted to kick herself for making him feel bad. In spite of the situation his voice was soft and Sam could hear the slight hurt in it. She wanted to kick herself again. He was probably blaming himself for her behavior, trying to discover what he had done to cause her sudden quiet attitude.
"No!" She shook her head, wanting desperately to touch him, to tell him everything she felt and make all his doubts go away. "It's not you fault. It's just . . ." She sighed and looked quickly at him, trying to find the right words, the right thing to say. "The last couple of days have been particularly hard and exhausting. I just have a lot of thinking to do and no time to do it." She said and truly hoped it was enough, that he would understand and let it go.
A few seconds of silence later - Sam was sure it were only a few seconds - passed without any word until Martin spoke up again, his voice as soft as it was before. "You noticed it too?" His voice so small and afraid of what himself was saying, they barely made it out of his mouth.
Her head snapped up to look at him, Sam completely surprised by his words. Although she was totally startled she understood the real meaning behind those words, half happy he actually felt it too, half scared to death of what would come next. She gave him a small nod. "Yes." She had to be honest, it was all she had been thinking about and lying to him was out of question. "I did."
He nodded too and said nothing else, words not needed at that very moment, and both knew that, they remained quiet for the rest of the ride.
~~~~*~~~~
As Sam opened her door and stepped inside her apartment, she thought how wonderful it was to finally be home and that was the very fist time she thought something like that. She had never really wanted to be at home. The longing to be working, doing something out there was much stronger than the longing to go back to her empty and cold apartment. It was comfy and comfortable, of course, it was her home after all, but when she was depressed even the best place in the world was the worst to be. Even being her home, it still was empty and the only thing she had there were her own shadows to company.
She threw her keys on the living room table and took her coat off as she walked to her bedroom, passing by some of the few pictures she had from her not so far away past, hanging on the wall. She stopped, her coat hanging only by part of the collar in her hand, to admire a photo of her and her mother, probably the only one. A smile - one of the few true smiles she managed to give, though she was only five year old and the world was still a wonder to be discovered - playing on her lips, showing the camera how happy she was while her mother embraced her and had a smile of her own.
Unfortunately happy memories were something she had not the luck to have a grand amount of. As she was growing up her life was becoming less and less pleasant, she didn't know why it occurred, what exactly happened to her family to make them fall apart because the impact of what was happening only hit her when she tried to run away but was caught by her mother at the bus stop, a look on her face that Sam would never forget. The walk back home was silently, the most unpleasant silence she had presented in her life till that moment and that was the reason she started to wonder, searching inside her head what had happened.
Shaking her head to shush these depressing thoughts, she resumed the walk to her bedroom. The day had been exhausting, not something of much surprise, it was rare when a day at the FBI was a calm one. She had been working there for quite a while now but it still surprised her at how many people went missing every day; and if her mother hadn't found her at the bus stop she would be in the enormous never found part of the population. If she hadn't, Sam thought sternly, what she believed at that time that it would happen. She thought her mother didn't care enough to even come after her.
But if her mother hadn't found her, than she would never have gotten into the FBI - for she wouldn't have the money to pay for a college education or any money to be honest - and consequently never met Martin. So, in one way or another, her mother was part cause of her present state of bliss. She could have never thought, in her younger days, her mother would possibly cause her any happiness than the pain she was causing then.
Thinking of Martin, somehow, made things easier. As he was the topic of the moment, thinking about unpleasant things were easy as long as he was somewhere for her, close enough she could hang on to him, thought, deep she knew, no matter where he was she could count on him, no matter how far away she was he would be were she needed him to be, when she needed him to be.
This thought brought a smile to her lips and a feeling of unfamiliar relief. It was a bit strange she could feel that way towards someone, being independent as she was, making everyone believe she could take care of everything alone without the help of people who was only doing this out of pity. That was what she thought. Martin's help wasn't out of pity; when he did this he was being Martin, truly him. And the thought that she might need him in any way frightened her a bit because since she left her mother's house she promised herself she would never need anyone, or she would try as best as she could.
She wouldn't be able to keep this promise. She was young when she made it and too hurt to put it behind her. But she wasn't a child anymore and she knew that love was your worst insecurity, but yet, was the only thing that would give you strength enough to keep going. She felt with Martin what she hadn't felt with Jack. What she hadn't felt with anyone before.
With Jack she couldn't express her love the way she wanted to - or what she thought was love - because they always had to meet at dark motel rooms, steal glances and looks and never let their guard down for someone could notice and catch them. This wasn't what she wanted her life to be. Deep down she knew she would never have him but she kept hanging on to the idea that one day he would be only hers, though he had already a family. She was tired of living like that, always looking back as she walked the other way, never could smile at him in public or touch him or say something without thinking very hard about what she was going to say. She was thinking about ending their sinned affair but Jack was quicker and did it for her.
Now, with Martin, it was completely different. It was like she had gotten out of the darkness to step out into the light. Touches and looks were allowed; she would have to hide nothing from any body, she no longer would have to go to hidden and dark motels. With Jack she loved the idea of being in love but with Martin, she loved him and was in love with him.
Samantha sat on her bed and took her shoes off, throwing them somewhere near the closet door, where two other pairs of shoes were discarded sometime before saying to herself she would put them away later and had forgotten about it, and now the new pair joined would probably have the same fate until Sam decided it was time to put them in their places. She debated for a few seconds on which pajamas wear and when she had decided, she started a battle inside herself whether to get up to put them on or stay on the bed for a little longer. It was rather difficult choosing. She noticed both beholding the fair battle, both sides possessing equal strength. Waiting to see which side would win she leaned back to rest her back on the bed, but what her clothed back touched was something hard instead of the softness of her mattress.
She got up again and turned to see what her back had made contact with and saw her discarded telephone, which she had threw on the bed early that day, after Jack's call. She took the cold object in her hand and considered her options of what to do with it. It would be a simple choice had her mind not had so many things in it that moment. She considered just putting it in its place or making a good use of the weapon she had in hands. That was quite strong word to a simple telephone, but to Samantha, the results of its use would be the same as if she had used a powerful weapon.
She laid the telephone on the bed, right in front of her and stared at it as if that small, mute and inanimate object would give her the right answer like a magic ball. Crossing her legs in Indian style she took the phone in her hands again and, as she sighed, she pushed the speed dial quickly fighting back the thought of hanging up and going sleep. Though the strength to do that was really big, she kept her Samantha Spade perseverance and brought the phone to her ear, listening to it calling.
She tapped her knee slightly, remembering a song long ago she had heard, trying to stay calm and focusing on what she was going to say. She widened her eyes as realization hit her. What was she going to say? She couldn't just call and not know what to say or the reason she was calling. Martin would want to know why she was calling, wouldn't he?
As quickly as she had dialed his number she hung up the phone and put it harshly in front of her. "You could have warned me!" She mumbled to the phone almost believing it could hear her. "Damn." What to say? What to say . . .
She tapped her fingers on her knee again. It wasn't so hard, she just have to make up an excuse to call him and there were a lot of good excuses she could use, she just wanted to hear his voice, even for a few minutes. If she wanted to hear him, it needn't to be on the phone right? He had called her to have a drink once and she used it as a rain check, what came very in hand later, just when she needed a friend the most. She could use it again, call him and ask if he wanted to have a drink.
She looked at the clock on her nightstand and saw it was only seven, not too late to call. She would call, they would set a place, they would meet at this place, drink, talk and each one would go to their perspective homes. Simple.
What if he says no? Damn that little wicked voice in the bottom of your head.
But what if he said no? What would she do? She bit her inner cheek, thinking about how humiliated and how sad she would get. This brought another thought in her head; what if he had plans for tonight already? What if he had a date? What if . . . but wait! He wouldn't have a date if what he said inside the car was true, nor would he say no. There was no reason for that.
Sam took the phone again and dialed quickly before she could change her mind. As the rings came and went she started to feel more nervous, wondering where he was, what he was doing, with whom . . . "Hello?"
She almost jumped out of the bed, startled by his voice, suddenly coming back completely to earth again. He was home after all. "Hmm, hi, Martin?"
"Oh, hi Sam," he sounded disturbed and curious and she thought it was because he wanted to know why she was calling.
"I was home and thinking…" She bit her lower lip and used the other hand to wipe the sweat that was forming on her forehead away. She was as nervous as a schoolgirl talking to her first crush. She sighed and chuckled silently. She was so silly that it startled her. "I was just thinking if maybe you would want to have drink tonight." Please say yes. She prayed silently, crossing her fingers, asking God to allow this suffering moment to pass quickly, with him saying yes.
"Sure. What time?"
She breathed out a sigh of relief, thank you god. Now she knew there was a good god somewhere. "About . . . half an hour sound good?"
"Perfect, at the same place as the last time?"
The question caught her by surprise. She was so focused that he would say no she hadn't thought about a place or what time or anything. Maybe it was a sign he had said the same place the last time and she remembered how good it had went. "Sounds good," she answered and was sure he could feel the smile on her lips.
"Ok. See you then."
"See you." She replied and hung up, her heart pounding considerably slower and weighing much less. She laid back and looked up at the ceiling after putting the telephone away, focusing on the adorned plaster. "Thank you god," she said softly and got up to change before she got too late to do anything than put her shoes back on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
End of chapter two. I'm sorry, I know I said they'd kiss in this chapter but I didn't get where I want to. I know exactly where, how, and why they will kiss; I just need to get them there. I guess it'll be in the next chapter, but don't kill me if this doesn't happen and don't forget your reviews. I love them!
I re-posted this chapter coz there was a few mistakes and Alyssa (my brand new beta reader) helped me to right this.