Martin sighed, and closed the program he was running on the computer.
Another case solved, with a happy ending this time. Was it happy? She, like
so many others just didn't want to be found. There were times he didn't
blame them. Until eight months ago, the thought of just leaving had crossed
his mind, more than once. There were times when he just didn't want to drag
himself out of bed.
He was a Fitzgerald. Raised from birth to perform duty, honor, and the rest of the load of bull. For the longest time, Danny held firmly to the belief that Martin had been handed everything, and expected everything handed to him. Though Martin's dad, the mighty deputy director Victor Fitzgerald didn't understand why, Martin hated it, wanted to be able forge his own path through life, not the senior Fitzgerald's hand-me-downs. 'Then why did you decide to enter the F.B.I. Fitzy?'
He sighed again and began to rub his temples, trying to fight back a migraine. "Hey." He looked up and saw Samantha leaning against his desk.
"Hey." He said softly, smiling at her. God she was beautiful.
"You okay?" she asked, her brows furrowed in concern.
"Yeah, stress headache." Martin said, only lying somewhat.
"Hey, don't look now," Danny's amused voice quipped, "But Jack is sending the two of you dirty looks."
"How dirty?" Martin asked, opting to not turn around. Samantha, remembering their argument, did the same.
"If looks could kill, you'd both be dead five times over. So would Viviane and I."
"Why would we be dead?" Viviane asked, joining the conversation under the guise of gathering her stuff.
"You're asking me to rationalize Agent Malone's mind. It's nearly impossible Viv, you should know that." Danny argued, keeping his eyes glued to his computer screen. "But I think it's because we gave the two lovebirds our blessings." Martin turned to Samantha.
"Speaking of which, what happened in the office?" Martin asked, not worried too much about the answer. He knew about the affair, and knew that it was truly over. Their body language said that much.
Samantha smiled wryly. "I'll tell you at home." She motioned her head toward the door. "Ready to go." She asked. Martin smiled.
"Yeah, let's go." He said, and stood. The two began to walk out of the bullpen, Samantha's hand slipped into his.
"Hey lovebirds, have fun! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Danny called over to them. Keeping her grip on Martin's hand, she turned.
"Now Danny, is that list long or short?" She teased, and walked out.
~*~
"You know, you never told me when Jack said to you." Martin said, pushing his pork fried rice around his plate. Samantha sighed.
"Why do you want to know?" She asked defensively. Martin looked at her.
"Because it's obviously bothering you. Besides, whenever he looked at me today I felt like I was about to get a tongue-lashing." He said simply. Samantha sighed. And she told him, the whole story.
"Bastard." He mumbled, glaring at his pork fried rice as if it had mortally harmed him. Samantha looked at him worriedly.
"Martin, what's wrong?" She asked softly, reaching out and grasping his hand.
"Nothing, it's just that, well, affairs just make me sick. And he's made it obvious that he'd cheat on his wife again if you'd given him the chance." He said bitterly. "I don't want you to take that the wrong way. I know you wouldn't."
"Why do you trust me so much?" Samantha whispered. He looked at her and smiled sadly.
"Because I know how much this is eating at you." He kissed her gently on the lips. The Chinese takeout sat forgotten on the table as they inevitably became more interested in each other. Their clothes came off, article by article. Their lovemaking was sensual, full of the passion they held for each other. When it was done; they lay there on the large sofa, sated.
"I love you Martin." She whispered in his ear. He smiled into her neck.
"I love you too, so much." His breath was warm on her neck.
"This sofa isn't big enough for the both of us. Let's just go to bed." Samantha suggested. He smiled, and let her lead the way to her bedroom.
They fell onto the large bed in an undignified heap. And they lay there, entangled in each other as the slipped into a warm and comforting sleep.
He was a Fitzgerald. Raised from birth to perform duty, honor, and the rest of the load of bull. For the longest time, Danny held firmly to the belief that Martin had been handed everything, and expected everything handed to him. Though Martin's dad, the mighty deputy director Victor Fitzgerald didn't understand why, Martin hated it, wanted to be able forge his own path through life, not the senior Fitzgerald's hand-me-downs. 'Then why did you decide to enter the F.B.I. Fitzy?'
He sighed again and began to rub his temples, trying to fight back a migraine. "Hey." He looked up and saw Samantha leaning against his desk.
"Hey." He said softly, smiling at her. God she was beautiful.
"You okay?" she asked, her brows furrowed in concern.
"Yeah, stress headache." Martin said, only lying somewhat.
"Hey, don't look now," Danny's amused voice quipped, "But Jack is sending the two of you dirty looks."
"How dirty?" Martin asked, opting to not turn around. Samantha, remembering their argument, did the same.
"If looks could kill, you'd both be dead five times over. So would Viviane and I."
"Why would we be dead?" Viviane asked, joining the conversation under the guise of gathering her stuff.
"You're asking me to rationalize Agent Malone's mind. It's nearly impossible Viv, you should know that." Danny argued, keeping his eyes glued to his computer screen. "But I think it's because we gave the two lovebirds our blessings." Martin turned to Samantha.
"Speaking of which, what happened in the office?" Martin asked, not worried too much about the answer. He knew about the affair, and knew that it was truly over. Their body language said that much.
Samantha smiled wryly. "I'll tell you at home." She motioned her head toward the door. "Ready to go." She asked. Martin smiled.
"Yeah, let's go." He said, and stood. The two began to walk out of the bullpen, Samantha's hand slipped into his.
"Hey lovebirds, have fun! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Danny called over to them. Keeping her grip on Martin's hand, she turned.
"Now Danny, is that list long or short?" She teased, and walked out.
~*~
"You know, you never told me when Jack said to you." Martin said, pushing his pork fried rice around his plate. Samantha sighed.
"Why do you want to know?" She asked defensively. Martin looked at her.
"Because it's obviously bothering you. Besides, whenever he looked at me today I felt like I was about to get a tongue-lashing." He said simply. Samantha sighed. And she told him, the whole story.
"Bastard." He mumbled, glaring at his pork fried rice as if it had mortally harmed him. Samantha looked at him worriedly.
"Martin, what's wrong?" She asked softly, reaching out and grasping his hand.
"Nothing, it's just that, well, affairs just make me sick. And he's made it obvious that he'd cheat on his wife again if you'd given him the chance." He said bitterly. "I don't want you to take that the wrong way. I know you wouldn't."
"Why do you trust me so much?" Samantha whispered. He looked at her and smiled sadly.
"Because I know how much this is eating at you." He kissed her gently on the lips. The Chinese takeout sat forgotten on the table as they inevitably became more interested in each other. Their clothes came off, article by article. Their lovemaking was sensual, full of the passion they held for each other. When it was done; they lay there on the large sofa, sated.
"I love you Martin." She whispered in his ear. He smiled into her neck.
"I love you too, so much." His breath was warm on her neck.
"This sofa isn't big enough for the both of us. Let's just go to bed." Samantha suggested. He smiled, and let her lead the way to her bedroom.
They fell onto the large bed in an undignified heap. And they lay there, entangled in each other as the slipped into a warm and comforting sleep.