Chapter Six
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"Try to please everybody and you please nobody."
-Unknown
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Jack's POV
It seems like it was just yesterday that I was a rooking sitting in my superiors office. Telling her why I wanted to work for the FBI and the Missing Persons Unit. It is almost like I am living in this world. I can't be leaving the one thing that has always held me down, that has always been a constant. I can't be leaving my father, my friends, my co-workers, my Sam... But she isn't my Sam is she? She doesn't belong to me, never did, never will. Hopefully, with me gone, she will be able to move on.
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Walking around my office packing away all of my things. I can't help but let my mind wander. So many memories. My first day as the head of the unit, so afraid, but yet so eager to do god. To succeed. Showing my girls around. Telling them that this was where there daddy worked. But along with the good memories, there were also the ones that I shouldn't have done. Here of all places.
My first kiss with Samantha. She had come into my office after a hard case to talk to me about it. But what she saw was a whole different me. Someone that I didn't let anyone see, even Marie. I was siting down at my desk me head in my hands and instead of me comforting her she came over to me and pulled my into a hug. It was the first time that she had hugged me and I clung to her for dear life. I didn't want to let go, so I just kept on holding her tighter. And then I kissed her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She pulled away and when I saw the light, the hope, the love in her eyes I pulled her back, and crushed my lips to hers. That was the start of our messed up relationship together.
But as I said along with the good came the bad. Although it was where we shared our first kiss, it was also the place where I told her that I had left Marie, three months earlier. I know that she thought that it was her fault and in part it was. But it also had to deal with the fact that I wasn't happy. Then the OPR investigation. That almost threatened to expose us. But Sam kept her cool. I on the other hand... well lets just say that I wanted to punch Farrell until I couldn't recognized him anymore. It wasn't even the fact that he threated to expose us it was the fact that he had hurt Sam. It was enough that she felt that she was the reason for the end of my marriage, the fact that we both fell in love and we couldn't do anything about it. But the truth is that he hurt her, and in return I wanted to hurt him.
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Looking around I can't help but wonder if it is better this way. Leaving without saying good bye, especially to Sam. But Paula will explain everything to them. I left them each notes telling that why I left, and why I couldn't say good bye in person. I started Sam's about fifty times before I got the beginning that I wanted. And then once I started I couldn't stop. I just kept on going. So hers is more like a book then a note, but I had a lot to say.
Picking up my box of stuff I took one last look around my office and then left. Sitting on my desk were the letters to Martin, Danny, and Vivian. Sam's would be on her desk. Surely a movement that wouldn't get unnoticed by everyone else, but I am sure that they all knew about what we shared anyway.
Walking over to her desk and seeing her name plate, "Samantha Spade" Sam Spade. How many times have people asked her about that? How many times did she have to tell people that he mother was a huge Bogart fan? I always thought that the name suited her. She always hated when I told her that, so I made a note to tell her regularly. That's even how I started her letter, "Sam Spade," if she could I bet that would hit me for it, but what can yo do?
Looking around her desk I can't help but wonder where she fells more at home. At her apartment or at the office. On her desk are her neatly organized piles of information to whatever it is that she is working on. Along her computer screen are post-it notes with numbers and random scribbles. On her cork board are different pictures. Two of all of us, one is the same one that I have in my office. I gave her a copy after the Annie Miller case, when she felt trapped. There are a few random new paper clippings, but there is one thing that sticks out. It is a picture of nothing really. It looks as though whoever took the picture just stood in the middle of the road and took a picture. It was a picture of a busy city street. Looking at it closer I noticed our building. So I guess that I have my answer. Work is more of a home to her then her own apartment.
"Oh, Sam," I say. "When did you become so much like me?"
"Well I guess when I decided that you were to be my mentor," answers her voice. And I look up to see her standing over me watching what I'll do next.
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"Sam," I said standing up.
"Jack," she says.
"Sam," I say again. I seemed to be the only thing that I could get out.
"Well I know my name, and I hope that you know your name. So what do you say we don't go over our names again?" she said looking at me, and standing with her hands on her hips.
And that is when I began to take in her attire. She wasn't dressed in her normal office attire. But in tight, butt hugging jeans, and a light blue form fitting t-shirt.
"Sam," saying her name again, but this time I continued. "Sam, what are you doing here? You should be at home."
"I could be saying the same thing to you," she points out. "But I guess that I already have my answer," she says as she spots the box sitting on the floor next to her desk. "You were going to leave without saying good bye," not being able to keep the sadness in her voice away.
"Sam, let —," but she cuts me off.
"No. You were going to leave, and you weren't even going to say good bye," she says the anger showing in her voice, but not in her eyes. All that her eyes show is sadness, pain, and hurt. Yet again I single handily caused Samantha Spade more pain.
"I don't know how to say good bye," I say after what feels like forever. But in reality is only a few minutes. "How can I say good bye when all I want to do is stay? How do I say good bye to Vivian who I have been working with for what seems like forever? Danny? Martin? But what kills me the most Sam. What hurts the most," the sadness in my voice, in my heart beginning to show though, "What hurts the most is that you think that I could just pack up and leave and not say good bye. Especially to you. Because that is what is killing me. That I have to say good bye to you. I don't know how I am going to be able to do this, and what scares me is that your not going to be there to help me everyday. I am not going to be able to se you, or hear your voice. Everyday and that just kills me Sam."
"Jack, -," she tires.
"No. Let me finish," I say and take a deep breath. "Sam, yes I know that we have had our lovely, messed up relationship, but what can I do? I fell in love with you while I was married to someone else. I did just what I promised myself I would never do. I love you, Sam. I really do. And it kills me to know that all of this, our relationship, your affair, our love, is hurting you. Is hurting us. Each and everyday I see you walk in here, head held high, strong, and I wish that I could be like you. I wish that I could have half your strength."
"But Jack you do," she said leading me to sit down on the couch in my old office. "How do you think I was able to recover after being shot? You. You told me that you still had faith in me. You gave me hope. God Jack I love you, also. And as much as I want you here with me, everyday. Your family needs you, and you need them. Maybe even more then they need you," she said with sadness in her voice. "You need to be with them Jack."
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We sat there talking for what felt like hours. Finally when Sam started to yawn I looked over to see what time it was. The clock read 1:32am. Damn, how long have we been talking?
"Sam," I said and she looked at me.
"Yea, I know. Time to call it a night," she says, the sadness that had left her voice over the corse of the night returning. "Jack."
"Yea?" I ask.
"Come home with me?" she asks. I know what I should do, and what I want to do. There are a million reasons why I shouldn't go home with Sam. But for the life of me I can't thin of one right now.