Chapter Three
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: Mentions of 'Fallout' and a small mention of 'Confidence'. (I don't even have sure if someone'll find it...)
Disclaimer: None of them are mine. I only own this marvelous show inside my troubled mind.
Author's note: I know I said in the first chapter it wouldn't take long for Sam and Martin get together, but as I was writing I changed my mind and wrote something completely different from what I wanted at first. I truly hope this will finally happen in this chapter.
You guys are so right, there aren't enough M/S fanfics out there and it's a shame! Why do people want Jack and Sam togehter? I mean, he's married...
Thank you all the reviews, they're really wonderful and bring a smile to my lips every time I read them. I'm so glad you guys are liking it, this is my first wat fanfic and all the good reviews make me feel glad. Clo, not a prob about the French :], SunReyes, I know it's just a drink, but as confused as she was she couldn't just ask him out like that, could she? Don't worry, she'll have someone to comfort her a LOT later ^_~. Gisela, from Brazil? This is cool! Where are you from?
Thanks Alyssa for your beta reading job (",) you're helping a lot.
Now, no more from me...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The bell tinkled softly as the new costumers opened the door to enter the small bookstore, making the young brunette girl behind the counter look up from the book she was reading and see the couple socially clad walking towards her. She smiled sweetly, the way she always did to earn the costumers sympathy, as she said, "Can I help you?"
Sam who was looking around the small place - it seemed like a particular bookstore, one the young owner had opened with the small amount of money she had earned after school graduation. Smelling the suave scent of old books and incense, she spoke first, "Are you Arleen Simpson?"
The light on the girl's face caused by her shining smile faded away and a frown took possession of her features making a worried mask fell over it. "Yes, it's me."
As if they had rehearsed, they took their badges out of their pockets in such a choreographed synchrony and showed it to the girl, the big FBI tag, giving her the same effect it did to almost everyone. "We're from the Missing Persons Unit and we need to ask you a few questions about Jessica Danes' disappearance." Martin did the job of explaining the reason of their surprise visit as both he and Sam put their badges inside their pockets again.
If she had been punched in the stomach the sock she felt would be the same of hearing the news. "Jesse? When did this happen?"
"Yesterday after school," Sam said and watched the changes in the girl's features. Sam was sure she couldn't be older than twenty-four unless her features tricked her age and she was older than people thought. Her long, straight, dark hair caused such effect on her face that made her deep, blue eyes shine much more than it normally would, it made her look as if she was just an innocent young girl, but in situations as this everyone was a suspect. Strangely enough, Arleen made Sam recall of Lolita - who was, what everyone thought, a pure and innocent young girl who turned out to be some kind of slut.
They interviewed her with the same old questions they knew by heart by now and ended up with not much than they already had. Jessica had gone there early than usual - which meant she had cut classes - and met with a boy Arleen didn't recognize. She could only say he had black hair like hers - what was too convenient, Sam thought - for she was at lunch and left the bookstore with Jesse. Jesse had said she needed a book and it turned out to be some kind of date. Arlen would never know that if she hadn't had to go back to get the money she had forgotten, causing her to see him with a glimpse. Now the investigation turned to discover who the boy was.
As they left the bookstore after the unsuccessful interview, the bell over the door sounded again, leaving behind them a stunned Arleen Simpson. As they stepped outside they were met with the December sun, which was different from its usual heat at this time of the year. It was warmer and made the cool breeze, which occasionally blew on their faces, seem less stinging. Looking up at the sky Sam noticed it would rain soon, nevertheless the sun shining. An amount of storm clouds were coming from the north and Sam truly hoped it would snow soon. Christmas was coming and she always loved a white Christmas.
She tightened the coat around her when a cold breeze blew and stepped out. This particular street - not different from the rest of Manhattan - was busy and there weren't any empty places to park. Martin had to find one more distant, forcing her to walk more than she wanted to with the current weather.
Finally reaching the car, she opened the door and got in, turning the heater on. Martin did the same, though slower than her. The cold probably wasn't bothering him as much as it was bothering her.
"Cold?" he asked a too obvious question that if it wasn't Martin and if he wasn't doing it just to start a conversation Samantha would have probably made fun of him.
"It seems it's getting colder and colder with the years." She said as she made herself as comfortable as possible on a car seat.
"Yeah, well, my heater broke a few days ago so my apartment is as cold as it is outside," he said with a funny chuckle, which made her look at him and chuckle too.
"Poor thing," she said with sympathetic mock. "Enjoy it while you can."
Martin looked at her and nodded mockingly, "Thanks for you compassion."
She smiled, trying to suppress another chuckle. Since the day before, the way they acted towards one another had changed considerably. During their 'last minute date' they had talked - not about the heart or what they felt, - just talked like two good friends. Somewhere along the date they had reached an unspoken truce, an unknown truce because since then they were more open and chatty. She felt much more at easy then she was the day before, much more after he asked her for another drink someday. She didn't know where it would lead, she only hoped it would go to somewhere good, someplace where kisses and snuggles were allowed.
"You're welcome." She said flatteringly sighing dramatically and turned the radio on, leaning back on the seat again. "Do you think the boy has something do to with it?" she asked finally, after a few moments of comfortable silence.
Martin shrugged and replied, "Maybe, maybe not. We need to find the boy and ask him about Jessica."
"Maybe he was her boyfriend. By the fight Arleen said she saw, maybe Jessica wanted to end everything and he didn't like it."
"It may be possible. It's not so strange if he didn't take it well and wanted vengeance . . .," he started but any words that would leave his mouth were stopped when the ringing of his cell phone interrupted. "Fitzgerald," he answered on the second ring and as he listened he cast glances at Sam, who was mouthing 'what is it?' curious to know if it had anything to do with the case. "We're near. I think we can make it before anyone." He listened to the words only he could hear and hung up.
"Who was it?"
"Jessica called her mother a few minutes ago and gave her an address." He said turning a corner harshly, getting honks from everyone near. Sam knew it wasn't a good time to speak and stayed silently just waiting for Martin to get to wherever they needed to be and hoping the girl would be all right.
~~~~*~~~~
Samantha climbed out of the car even before Martin had stopped it, the tires forming a thick curtain of smoke on the ground under the car. As she got out her hand was already going to her holster to grab her gun and the other to her badge, something that strangely enough gave her a feeling of safety, making her feel as if she was protect by this little piece of leather.
"Sam." She heard Martin calling to her as quite as he could. She looked back at him, her gun hanging by the handle and saw him motioning to her to wait for help. She knew what he meant, no words needed to be spoken, but she didn't want to wait. Each moment could mean the girl's life and she didn't want too much time to pass. She wanted to go inside, get the girl and get out with her alive. She wasn't going to fail again. The last time was hard enough and she wasn't going to allow that to happen again.
She turned again to look ahead at the old shed that was a few feet away from her. It was simple. She had her gun so she would just go in and get the girl. If she had called for help it meant it was safe enough to do it and that Sam wasn't in danger if she went inside. She kept walking even hearing Martin's calls and other cars arriving.
"Sam!" he called louder this time and she looked back again and was surprised to see Martin standing right there ready to grab her arm, which he did when he finally reached her. "Wait! We don't know who is inside."
She looked in his eyes; almost daring him to stop her but her eyes left his to look at the FBI agents coming to them. "They're coming," she said and yanked her arm away from his soft grasp and resumed walking. She got there before anyone and opened the door carefully, still hearing Martin calling her name and swearing when she didn't look back. Soon enough - as she had expected - Martin was right beside her entering the shed with her. She could feel anger waving from his body and was sure he was cursing her silently.
With her gun in front of her body, a device she trusted with her life, she stepped further inside silently as she heard other FBI agents entering the place by different entrances. She realized she and Martin where the only ones there.
Martin and Sam turned harshly to the right when an echoed sound reached their ears and a muffled scream of 'help' was heard from another room. The place was huge and the sound could have come from any place. Sam had the brilliant idea of splitting, walking to the left and telling Martin to go to the right, under his protests. He knew she wanted to find the girl as soon as possible but she shouldn't go alone and there were other agents that could handle one side while he could go with her, but when he looked at Sam to tell her that, she was already in some dark corner he couldn't see and cursed under his breath again.
"I'm going to kill her," he said softly, though the real thing he wanted to do was to kiss her until they couldn't breath. "I'll kiss her and then I'll kill her." He knew it was an empty promise; he would do nothing even close to harm her in any way. He turned to the left to follow her, walking blindly, only guessing where she had gone. He walked slowly and silently, listening to any sound around him and trying to hear anything from Samantha.
Walking ahead he found an enormous sliding door made out of iron, its material already rusty and seeing the door slightly open - enough for someone to pass through - he was sure Sam had took that way. Stepping through, his gun drawn in front of his body, he walked carefully inside the room. That was until he heard a shot and a scream and his body froze. He didn't know why - he was an FBI agent, it should make him move as fast as he could instead of stopping him - while his mind worked a thousand of miles a second, thinking about Sam, wondering what could have happened, imagining the worst.
But the numbness state only last two seconds. Time enough for a few more bullets to be shot.
Martin ran towards the sound, his heart pounding in his ears, he was actually surprised at how close he was. The adrenaline of the moment made him stop listening, not noticing the proximity of the sound - and at how frightening the image was that he saw.
Sam was knelt on the dirty floor as though she was getting up - for some reason she had been knocked on the floor and Martin didn't know why - her gun was aiming at a boy who was using Jessica's body as a shield. He was pointing his own gun at Sam and trying to point it at Jessica at the same time. Sam was trying hard to stay calm and even if she could trick the boy, who was too nervous to notice her own shaking body, she couldn't trick Martin. He saw how nervous she was. Jessica had cried so much she was now trying to catch her breath again.
Martin stepped inside the room, pointing his gun at the boy and yelling at the same time the usual "FBI! Put your gun down!"
Sam glanced quickly at him but her gun stayed in place, noticing the boy considering if he should drop the gun. With Martin there, for some reason she felt safer. She felt a wave of relief wash of her body when she heard his voice, which gave her the strength she needed to finally stand. She and Martin's guns were pointed at the boy and he was, for some strange reason, pointing his at Sam.
"Put the gun down, Alex," Sam said softly, her voice as calm as she could keep it at the moment. "You don't have an escape now."
Alex looked between Sam and Martin, not knowing what to do, his shaking hand keeping a hard grasp around Jessica neck, keeping her close to him. He was only a boy with his 16 years and an inexperienced boy, probably the first time he did something as stupid to involve the cops, and his nervousness was at a such high level that Martin started to get nervous of Alex's nervousness. He could very well point the gun at Jessica's head and get out of there but being ignorant to the situation he didn't know what to do so he did the stupidest thing he could do: he shot a FBI agent.
Sam threw herself on the floor as she heard the bullet being shot and Martin's screams both to Sam and to Alex and a new bullet being shot. She looked up at time to see Jessica freeing herself from Alex's grasp giving Martin an opportunity to shot the boy, hitting him on his shoulder, someplace safe enough not to kill him.
Alex fell on the floor cursing under his breath as his other hand went to the hole in his opposite shoulder and FBI agents rushing inside the room. Jessica threw herself in one of the agents' arms, crying her heart out as Martin ran to Sam's side just as she was getting up.
"Do you know what you could have done?" he asked, not loudly or screaming, his normal tone of voice. But the fear and the adrenaline had caused it coming out as in anger instead, each word sounding like sharp needles.
Sam looked at him with visible hurt in her eyes and it hurt even more to look in his own eyes and see the anger in there, so she looked down and used the excuse of wiping the dust off of her clothes not to look at him. And then as if she used that time to gather the strength she looked up at him again. "I saved her!" Her own anger taking over her, she almost - almost - raised her voice and walked past him, to the door.
Martin put his gun back in its holster and followed her out of the room, making their way among the agents in there. "Don't walk away," he said his voice even and firm. To anyone else it would sound like his usual voice but to Samantha the bitter words would make its damage, even if they were only normal words, to her, she knew the true meaning of them.
She kept walking as if he hadn't talked to her, as if his words hadn't hurt her the way they had. She kept walking away from him, her pace as quickly as she could without others getting suspicious. But she thought it wasn't quick enough for seconds of steps she felt her arm being grabbed and was startled that instead of a hard and sharp grasp, the hand on her body was soft as if it was trying carefully not to hurt her and she looked up.
"You could have been killed! Or shot. Once wasn't enough? I thought you hated having a bullet inside your leg." He kept his hand on her arm, preventing her to run again and turn her back to him. It hurt more than he thought it could. He could never have imagined why turning her back to him was like some kind of betrayal. He knew why she had done that but she should know better than to act like a spoiled child.
"But I wasn't!" She yanked her arm away, trying to make him let go of her arm but he didn't. As soon as her arm was free he grabbed both her shoulders, turning her to him. "Let go of me! You're not my fucking father!"
He was surprised by her choice of words. She never spoke about her father even less with this kind of language, not something Samantha would do, but he didn't let it get in the way. "You're right. I'm not your father, but I care too much to let anything happen to you," he said softly with such care she almost cried in surprise, his eyes lovingly locked with hers.
That was that. Her brown eyes were the color of the earth. Just the way she was, a realistic person, with her feet always on the ground, trying to get on with life as realistic as she could. They locked with his deep, blue eyes, the color of the sky. They seemed to reflect the way he was, his personality, always with his head above the clouds, a dreamy person who lived always out in space, searching the impossible, the answers they needed. They were like day and night, each needed the other to make a whole, to make it all go perfectly. They were two different people yet so alike.
She was speechless.
Martin's hands slowly left Sam's shoulders to slide under her arms, slightly resting one on her right hip and the other on her back. He brought her closer to him, his eyes never leaving hers and suddenly, without she even realizing it, his mouth was over hers, his mouth spread against her wet lips and opened her up to more passion than she's ever known. As his tongue tentatively touched hers, Sam forgot where she was to focus on what they were doing and brought her hands to his shoulders, slowly making their way up to his face.
He slowly pulled away, a movement that seemed to pass unnoticed by Sam, who leaned in, searching his mouth again, her eyes still closed, completely unaware of the place they where. He had to smile. "Breath," he murmured onto her mouth, making it turn up into a smile.
She opened her eyes and looked at him as if she had just had her first kiss; as if he was the first boy she looked at thinking how cute he was instead of the usual 'ew' they received. His eyes still holding her as she slowly caught her breath, her hands leaving his face to rest on his shoulders and for a few seconds the world seemed silent and her voice was back. "Would you like to, someday, sometime, go out?" she asked shyly, her voice barely above a whisper he almost didn't hear, almost.
"I would like that," he said as one hand moved up to her face and tenderly put one tress of her blond hair out of her eyes behind her ear. "Are you busy tonight?"
She almost gasped in surprise, never thinking he could ask her this soon. Sure she was thrilled but still a small sparkle of nervousness ran through her body. "Well, my hot date dumped me so I guess I'm free tonight." Her voice was still barely above a whisper so Martin leaned in to hear her better, what she misread and was already closing her eyes to savor better the moment.
He chuckled softly as he put both hands on her face, cupping it and caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. She opened her eyes again, embarrassed, just to see his smile. "Good to know I cause this effect on you."
She nodded stupidly, as if her voice was now some place she didn't know where - again - then she chuckled too. "You have no idea," she said with a dreamily smile, this time she wasn't looking in his eyes but somewhere beyond them, as if she was remembering a certain moment his actions had affected her someway. Suddenly, as if she remembered where they were she focused her eyes again and saw people walking around almost unaware of them, but she was sure they - the ones who had saw them - were just pretending to see nothing compromising and her body stiffened for a second just to relax again.
This was Martin, the one she could show the world. The one she could say how much she loved him without jeopardizing anything or anyone. This was Martin, not Jack.
He kissed her again, a light butterfly kiss, she barely felt, and before she knew it he had ended the kiss and she cursed herself for being so careless. She had almost missed it. "Seven sound good?" he asked softly and with an arm around her shoulders, he led her back to their car, out of the confusion of this place.
"Perfect," she answered, smiling up at him, as she let him led her to the car, feeling her skin burn where his arm was touching the base of her neck.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
End of chapter three. I told you they'd kiss! What did you think? Please review and tell me where I mistook. Chapter four will be out as soon as I finish it. It seems the chapters are getting shorter and shorter… I'll try to fix 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: Mentions of 'Fallout' and a small mention of 'Confidence'. (I don't even have sure if someone'll find it...)
Disclaimer: None of them are mine. I only own this marvelous show inside my troubled mind.
Author's note: I know I said in the first chapter it wouldn't take long for Sam and Martin get together, but as I was writing I changed my mind and wrote something completely different from what I wanted at first. I truly hope this will finally happen in this chapter.
You guys are so right, there aren't enough M/S fanfics out there and it's a shame! Why do people want Jack and Sam togehter? I mean, he's married...
Thank you all the reviews, they're really wonderful and bring a smile to my lips every time I read them. I'm so glad you guys are liking it, this is my first wat fanfic and all the good reviews make me feel glad. Clo, not a prob about the French :], SunReyes, I know it's just a drink, but as confused as she was she couldn't just ask him out like that, could she? Don't worry, she'll have someone to comfort her a LOT later ^_~. Gisela, from Brazil? This is cool! Where are you from?
Thanks Alyssa for your beta reading job (",) you're helping a lot.
Now, no more from me...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The bell tinkled softly as the new costumers opened the door to enter the small bookstore, making the young brunette girl behind the counter look up from the book she was reading and see the couple socially clad walking towards her. She smiled sweetly, the way she always did to earn the costumers sympathy, as she said, "Can I help you?"
Sam who was looking around the small place - it seemed like a particular bookstore, one the young owner had opened with the small amount of money she had earned after school graduation. Smelling the suave scent of old books and incense, she spoke first, "Are you Arleen Simpson?"
The light on the girl's face caused by her shining smile faded away and a frown took possession of her features making a worried mask fell over it. "Yes, it's me."
As if they had rehearsed, they took their badges out of their pockets in such a choreographed synchrony and showed it to the girl, the big FBI tag, giving her the same effect it did to almost everyone. "We're from the Missing Persons Unit and we need to ask you a few questions about Jessica Danes' disappearance." Martin did the job of explaining the reason of their surprise visit as both he and Sam put their badges inside their pockets again.
If she had been punched in the stomach the sock she felt would be the same of hearing the news. "Jesse? When did this happen?"
"Yesterday after school," Sam said and watched the changes in the girl's features. Sam was sure she couldn't be older than twenty-four unless her features tricked her age and she was older than people thought. Her long, straight, dark hair caused such effect on her face that made her deep, blue eyes shine much more than it normally would, it made her look as if she was just an innocent young girl, but in situations as this everyone was a suspect. Strangely enough, Arleen made Sam recall of Lolita - who was, what everyone thought, a pure and innocent young girl who turned out to be some kind of slut.
They interviewed her with the same old questions they knew by heart by now and ended up with not much than they already had. Jessica had gone there early than usual - which meant she had cut classes - and met with a boy Arleen didn't recognize. She could only say he had black hair like hers - what was too convenient, Sam thought - for she was at lunch and left the bookstore with Jesse. Jesse had said she needed a book and it turned out to be some kind of date. Arlen would never know that if she hadn't had to go back to get the money she had forgotten, causing her to see him with a glimpse. Now the investigation turned to discover who the boy was.
As they left the bookstore after the unsuccessful interview, the bell over the door sounded again, leaving behind them a stunned Arleen Simpson. As they stepped outside they were met with the December sun, which was different from its usual heat at this time of the year. It was warmer and made the cool breeze, which occasionally blew on their faces, seem less stinging. Looking up at the sky Sam noticed it would rain soon, nevertheless the sun shining. An amount of storm clouds were coming from the north and Sam truly hoped it would snow soon. Christmas was coming and she always loved a white Christmas.
She tightened the coat around her when a cold breeze blew and stepped out. This particular street - not different from the rest of Manhattan - was busy and there weren't any empty places to park. Martin had to find one more distant, forcing her to walk more than she wanted to with the current weather.
Finally reaching the car, she opened the door and got in, turning the heater on. Martin did the same, though slower than her. The cold probably wasn't bothering him as much as it was bothering her.
"Cold?" he asked a too obvious question that if it wasn't Martin and if he wasn't doing it just to start a conversation Samantha would have probably made fun of him.
"It seems it's getting colder and colder with the years." She said as she made herself as comfortable as possible on a car seat.
"Yeah, well, my heater broke a few days ago so my apartment is as cold as it is outside," he said with a funny chuckle, which made her look at him and chuckle too.
"Poor thing," she said with sympathetic mock. "Enjoy it while you can."
Martin looked at her and nodded mockingly, "Thanks for you compassion."
She smiled, trying to suppress another chuckle. Since the day before, the way they acted towards one another had changed considerably. During their 'last minute date' they had talked - not about the heart or what they felt, - just talked like two good friends. Somewhere along the date they had reached an unspoken truce, an unknown truce because since then they were more open and chatty. She felt much more at easy then she was the day before, much more after he asked her for another drink someday. She didn't know where it would lead, she only hoped it would go to somewhere good, someplace where kisses and snuggles were allowed.
"You're welcome." She said flatteringly sighing dramatically and turned the radio on, leaning back on the seat again. "Do you think the boy has something do to with it?" she asked finally, after a few moments of comfortable silence.
Martin shrugged and replied, "Maybe, maybe not. We need to find the boy and ask him about Jessica."
"Maybe he was her boyfriend. By the fight Arleen said she saw, maybe Jessica wanted to end everything and he didn't like it."
"It may be possible. It's not so strange if he didn't take it well and wanted vengeance . . .," he started but any words that would leave his mouth were stopped when the ringing of his cell phone interrupted. "Fitzgerald," he answered on the second ring and as he listened he cast glances at Sam, who was mouthing 'what is it?' curious to know if it had anything to do with the case. "We're near. I think we can make it before anyone." He listened to the words only he could hear and hung up.
"Who was it?"
"Jessica called her mother a few minutes ago and gave her an address." He said turning a corner harshly, getting honks from everyone near. Sam knew it wasn't a good time to speak and stayed silently just waiting for Martin to get to wherever they needed to be and hoping the girl would be all right.
~~~~*~~~~
Samantha climbed out of the car even before Martin had stopped it, the tires forming a thick curtain of smoke on the ground under the car. As she got out her hand was already going to her holster to grab her gun and the other to her badge, something that strangely enough gave her a feeling of safety, making her feel as if she was protect by this little piece of leather.
"Sam." She heard Martin calling to her as quite as he could. She looked back at him, her gun hanging by the handle and saw him motioning to her to wait for help. She knew what he meant, no words needed to be spoken, but she didn't want to wait. Each moment could mean the girl's life and she didn't want too much time to pass. She wanted to go inside, get the girl and get out with her alive. She wasn't going to fail again. The last time was hard enough and she wasn't going to allow that to happen again.
She turned again to look ahead at the old shed that was a few feet away from her. It was simple. She had her gun so she would just go in and get the girl. If she had called for help it meant it was safe enough to do it and that Sam wasn't in danger if she went inside. She kept walking even hearing Martin's calls and other cars arriving.
"Sam!" he called louder this time and she looked back again and was surprised to see Martin standing right there ready to grab her arm, which he did when he finally reached her. "Wait! We don't know who is inside."
She looked in his eyes; almost daring him to stop her but her eyes left his to look at the FBI agents coming to them. "They're coming," she said and yanked her arm away from his soft grasp and resumed walking. She got there before anyone and opened the door carefully, still hearing Martin calling her name and swearing when she didn't look back. Soon enough - as she had expected - Martin was right beside her entering the shed with her. She could feel anger waving from his body and was sure he was cursing her silently.
With her gun in front of her body, a device she trusted with her life, she stepped further inside silently as she heard other FBI agents entering the place by different entrances. She realized she and Martin where the only ones there.
Martin and Sam turned harshly to the right when an echoed sound reached their ears and a muffled scream of 'help' was heard from another room. The place was huge and the sound could have come from any place. Sam had the brilliant idea of splitting, walking to the left and telling Martin to go to the right, under his protests. He knew she wanted to find the girl as soon as possible but she shouldn't go alone and there were other agents that could handle one side while he could go with her, but when he looked at Sam to tell her that, she was already in some dark corner he couldn't see and cursed under his breath again.
"I'm going to kill her," he said softly, though the real thing he wanted to do was to kiss her until they couldn't breath. "I'll kiss her and then I'll kill her." He knew it was an empty promise; he would do nothing even close to harm her in any way. He turned to the left to follow her, walking blindly, only guessing where she had gone. He walked slowly and silently, listening to any sound around him and trying to hear anything from Samantha.
Walking ahead he found an enormous sliding door made out of iron, its material already rusty and seeing the door slightly open - enough for someone to pass through - he was sure Sam had took that way. Stepping through, his gun drawn in front of his body, he walked carefully inside the room. That was until he heard a shot and a scream and his body froze. He didn't know why - he was an FBI agent, it should make him move as fast as he could instead of stopping him - while his mind worked a thousand of miles a second, thinking about Sam, wondering what could have happened, imagining the worst.
But the numbness state only last two seconds. Time enough for a few more bullets to be shot.
Martin ran towards the sound, his heart pounding in his ears, he was actually surprised at how close he was. The adrenaline of the moment made him stop listening, not noticing the proximity of the sound - and at how frightening the image was that he saw.
Sam was knelt on the dirty floor as though she was getting up - for some reason she had been knocked on the floor and Martin didn't know why - her gun was aiming at a boy who was using Jessica's body as a shield. He was pointing his own gun at Sam and trying to point it at Jessica at the same time. Sam was trying hard to stay calm and even if she could trick the boy, who was too nervous to notice her own shaking body, she couldn't trick Martin. He saw how nervous she was. Jessica had cried so much she was now trying to catch her breath again.
Martin stepped inside the room, pointing his gun at the boy and yelling at the same time the usual "FBI! Put your gun down!"
Sam glanced quickly at him but her gun stayed in place, noticing the boy considering if he should drop the gun. With Martin there, for some reason she felt safer. She felt a wave of relief wash of her body when she heard his voice, which gave her the strength she needed to finally stand. She and Martin's guns were pointed at the boy and he was, for some strange reason, pointing his at Sam.
"Put the gun down, Alex," Sam said softly, her voice as calm as she could keep it at the moment. "You don't have an escape now."
Alex looked between Sam and Martin, not knowing what to do, his shaking hand keeping a hard grasp around Jessica neck, keeping her close to him. He was only a boy with his 16 years and an inexperienced boy, probably the first time he did something as stupid to involve the cops, and his nervousness was at a such high level that Martin started to get nervous of Alex's nervousness. He could very well point the gun at Jessica's head and get out of there but being ignorant to the situation he didn't know what to do so he did the stupidest thing he could do: he shot a FBI agent.
Sam threw herself on the floor as she heard the bullet being shot and Martin's screams both to Sam and to Alex and a new bullet being shot. She looked up at time to see Jessica freeing herself from Alex's grasp giving Martin an opportunity to shot the boy, hitting him on his shoulder, someplace safe enough not to kill him.
Alex fell on the floor cursing under his breath as his other hand went to the hole in his opposite shoulder and FBI agents rushing inside the room. Jessica threw herself in one of the agents' arms, crying her heart out as Martin ran to Sam's side just as she was getting up.
"Do you know what you could have done?" he asked, not loudly or screaming, his normal tone of voice. But the fear and the adrenaline had caused it coming out as in anger instead, each word sounding like sharp needles.
Sam looked at him with visible hurt in her eyes and it hurt even more to look in his own eyes and see the anger in there, so she looked down and used the excuse of wiping the dust off of her clothes not to look at him. And then as if she used that time to gather the strength she looked up at him again. "I saved her!" Her own anger taking over her, she almost - almost - raised her voice and walked past him, to the door.
Martin put his gun back in its holster and followed her out of the room, making their way among the agents in there. "Don't walk away," he said his voice even and firm. To anyone else it would sound like his usual voice but to Samantha the bitter words would make its damage, even if they were only normal words, to her, she knew the true meaning of them.
She kept walking as if he hadn't talked to her, as if his words hadn't hurt her the way they had. She kept walking away from him, her pace as quickly as she could without others getting suspicious. But she thought it wasn't quick enough for seconds of steps she felt her arm being grabbed and was startled that instead of a hard and sharp grasp, the hand on her body was soft as if it was trying carefully not to hurt her and she looked up.
"You could have been killed! Or shot. Once wasn't enough? I thought you hated having a bullet inside your leg." He kept his hand on her arm, preventing her to run again and turn her back to him. It hurt more than he thought it could. He could never have imagined why turning her back to him was like some kind of betrayal. He knew why she had done that but she should know better than to act like a spoiled child.
"But I wasn't!" She yanked her arm away, trying to make him let go of her arm but he didn't. As soon as her arm was free he grabbed both her shoulders, turning her to him. "Let go of me! You're not my fucking father!"
He was surprised by her choice of words. She never spoke about her father even less with this kind of language, not something Samantha would do, but he didn't let it get in the way. "You're right. I'm not your father, but I care too much to let anything happen to you," he said softly with such care she almost cried in surprise, his eyes lovingly locked with hers.
That was that. Her brown eyes were the color of the earth. Just the way she was, a realistic person, with her feet always on the ground, trying to get on with life as realistic as she could. They locked with his deep, blue eyes, the color of the sky. They seemed to reflect the way he was, his personality, always with his head above the clouds, a dreamy person who lived always out in space, searching the impossible, the answers they needed. They were like day and night, each needed the other to make a whole, to make it all go perfectly. They were two different people yet so alike.
She was speechless.
Martin's hands slowly left Sam's shoulders to slide under her arms, slightly resting one on her right hip and the other on her back. He brought her closer to him, his eyes never leaving hers and suddenly, without she even realizing it, his mouth was over hers, his mouth spread against her wet lips and opened her up to more passion than she's ever known. As his tongue tentatively touched hers, Sam forgot where she was to focus on what they were doing and brought her hands to his shoulders, slowly making their way up to his face.
He slowly pulled away, a movement that seemed to pass unnoticed by Sam, who leaned in, searching his mouth again, her eyes still closed, completely unaware of the place they where. He had to smile. "Breath," he murmured onto her mouth, making it turn up into a smile.
She opened her eyes and looked at him as if she had just had her first kiss; as if he was the first boy she looked at thinking how cute he was instead of the usual 'ew' they received. His eyes still holding her as she slowly caught her breath, her hands leaving his face to rest on his shoulders and for a few seconds the world seemed silent and her voice was back. "Would you like to, someday, sometime, go out?" she asked shyly, her voice barely above a whisper he almost didn't hear, almost.
"I would like that," he said as one hand moved up to her face and tenderly put one tress of her blond hair out of her eyes behind her ear. "Are you busy tonight?"
She almost gasped in surprise, never thinking he could ask her this soon. Sure she was thrilled but still a small sparkle of nervousness ran through her body. "Well, my hot date dumped me so I guess I'm free tonight." Her voice was still barely above a whisper so Martin leaned in to hear her better, what she misread and was already closing her eyes to savor better the moment.
He chuckled softly as he put both hands on her face, cupping it and caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. She opened her eyes again, embarrassed, just to see his smile. "Good to know I cause this effect on you."
She nodded stupidly, as if her voice was now some place she didn't know where - again - then she chuckled too. "You have no idea," she said with a dreamily smile, this time she wasn't looking in his eyes but somewhere beyond them, as if she was remembering a certain moment his actions had affected her someway. Suddenly, as if she remembered where they were she focused her eyes again and saw people walking around almost unaware of them, but she was sure they - the ones who had saw them - were just pretending to see nothing compromising and her body stiffened for a second just to relax again.
This was Martin, the one she could show the world. The one she could say how much she loved him without jeopardizing anything or anyone. This was Martin, not Jack.
He kissed her again, a light butterfly kiss, she barely felt, and before she knew it he had ended the kiss and she cursed herself for being so careless. She had almost missed it. "Seven sound good?" he asked softly and with an arm around her shoulders, he led her back to their car, out of the confusion of this place.
"Perfect," she answered, smiling up at him, as she let him led her to the car, feeling her skin burn where his arm was touching the base of her neck.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
End of chapter three. I told you they'd kiss! What did you think? Please review and tell me where I mistook. Chapter four will be out as soon as I finish it. It seems the chapters are getting shorter and shorter… I'll try to fix this. =]