Conversations - B: Where a Conversation Might Go...
By: Mariel
Jack read the letter one more time and then, filled with dismay, sat back heavily in his chair. Closing his eyes tightly, he monitored his reaction and realised he had more in common with Danny than one might think.
Not really needing to go over them again, he opened his eyes and stared at the written words. He'd known this would happen, but had managed to set his fear aside. Now, it had come and he was forced to face it. He would have to ask her if she was interested.
And would have to face the fact that she would likely say yes.
Application for Transfer, Opportunity for Promotion, Staffing Request, Relocation Opportunity, Job Opening...the forms came across his desk periodically. Vivian had turned down a promotion six months ago because it would have meant moving, and she felt it was too soon to do so. Danny had turned down two offers to work in other Missing Persons units in other parts of the country, citing his desire to continue working with people he knew and enjoyed being with and to remain in a city where, at long last, he felt at home.
But Samantha? What would her response be? Once, he would have known. Just months ago, he could have even predicted her exact words as she turned it down. But now? He groaned inwardly. Now, circumstances were changed. He grimaced and ran a tired hand over his face. Once, she would have stayed to be with him.
Now, he feared she would leave to get away.
Placing the letter down, he slid it to one side and returned to his previous thought. Yes, he had something in common with Danny, but, unlike the young agent he had so much admiration for, he had not been so successful in dealing with it.
Addiction. It was a strong word, a worrisome word, a word that told of the past, present, and future in ways other words did not.
His addiction had begun the first time he'd interviewed her. Like any drug, however, he had not realised the effect she had on him at first. Yes, he had recognised the pleasure of her presence, the joy of her conversation. But he had not even briefly entertained the idea that the effect of her presence would grow, had never dreamed she would become such an integral part of his life that the thought of being without her would fill him with dread. Looking back, he realised he'd been hooked the first time they'd spoken, hadn't been able to get enough of her when he'd had her, and couldn't get her out of his system now that their affair was over. Remembering their painful parting, he could freely admit - to himself, at least - that he hadn't wanted to let her go then.
He certainly didn't want to let her go now.
He looked through his office window and saw her blonde head bent over the day's paperwork. Sighing inwardly, he rose.
"Samantha? Can you come to my office when you're finished? I have something I need to talk over with you."
She looked up at him, not overly curious, her eyes dark and warm, but holding little of what they once had. He looked away quickly as the pain of his loss ripped through him again. The mouth he had kissed, the face he had caressed with his fingertips... they were as out of his reach now as her heart. He'd earned that. Deserved that. Knew she'd worked hard over the past months to make it so.
It hurt. And bode ill for his hopes.
"I'm finished now," she told him. "Everything's just printing off. Are you going back to your office right away?"
When he nodded, she said, "I'll be there in about five minutes, then."
True to her word, she was at his door five minutes later.
"What is it, Jack?" The door closed behind her as she walked over and sat in the chair in front of his desk.
He wondered if this was the best way to give her the information and ask his question. Would her answer be different if he had decided to take a coffee to her desk and casually give her the letter to read? Or different if he talked to her about it over lunch, or when they were out on a case? He shook his head at his thoughts. The circumstances of his asking would not change her answer - only the circumstances of their relationship could do that, and he knew there was no going back to what had once been.
"I got a letter from Human Resources," he told her. Sliding the letter across his now cleared desk, he watched her as she read it, closely examining her expression for her reaction.
In his presence, she was too in control to give him what he needed. When she finished, she looked up. "This is quite an honour. I don't know what to say."
Not knowing what to say. That was a good sign, wasn't it?
"Are you interested?" The words stuck in his throat, and he cleared it.
She didn't answer straight away. Looking down at the letter again, she paused, then seemed to come to a decision. Lifting her head, she met his eyes. He saw the resolve there, and knew that she would take this route of escape. "It doesn't mention when they'd like me to start," she said.
His heart sank.
"I believe that depends upon how quickly we can arrange it," he told her, looking away for fear she would see his pain.
"New Orleans..." she said. "I've always wanted to live there. Nice to be warm all year round."
Oh, God.
"A big change from New York, though," he offered.
She nodded, knowing he felt uncomfortable, and understanding the reason why. She saw no alternative but to go. If nothing else, these past months had taught her that she needed distance in order to free her heart from the man who sat so calmly across from her.
Aching inside, she wondered how fast it could be arranged. She looked at him and knew that quickly or slowly made no difference. It would be painful, but she had to leave, and in leaving, save herself and perhaps him, as well.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled. Her face felt taut, and her lips trembled slightly as she forced them to maintain position. "Wow. This is so sudden. I guess I should call this guy," she said, indicating with a sweep of her hand the signature at the bottom of the requisition slip.
Deep inside her heart, where she couldn't erase such things, the hope that he might protest her going stirred.
He nodded, his heart sinking. How would he survive without her? How would he get through his days?
"Do you know anyone in that office?"
Her question jolted him from his self-pity.
He shook his head. "You remember Terry Baldwin?"
When she nodded and smiled at the memory of his being here to help on a recent case, he continued, "He ran the Missing Persons there for a few years before he took up his new position. He loved it there."
"Then I probably will, too," she said, for want of anything better to say. She looked around the room. "I'll miss all this." Turning her gaze back to meet his, she wondered if she should say more, wondered if she could say aloud how much she would miss him. She decided against it. Their conversations these days had dwindled to little more than work details. It had been easier that way. No danger of getting too personal, of saying the wrong thing and dredging up memories they were both running from.
No danger of ending up in bed together, swearing it was for the last time. "You don't have to accept it." The words were wrenched straight from his heart.
She held his gaze silently and saw his thoughts as clearly as though he was speaking them. Waiting a moment, she finally said, "I think I do." Then, because it was late, and because she was tired and there was no one else around, she added, "For the both of us. This hasn't been good, Jack. I don't think I could have gone on like this much longer. I-" she stopped abruptly, then raised both hands palm up in a motion of futility. "Someone has to do something. You're not going anywhere; it has to be me."
He knew she was right. But God, she was so wrong. She couldn't leave, she-
"I'd rather you stayed." He blinked. The disbelief he had actually verbalized his thoughts showed on his face.
She almost smiled, would have, perhaps, if she hadn't been hurting so badly. "I know. Me, too. But it's better if I go, and we both know why. I-" Again, she stopped abruptly, this time pausing to rethink what she would say. Her throat suddenly constricted, she finally said, "I'll call them in the morning and get more details. I think three or four weeks should be all it will take to deal with my apartment, to clear things up here, and for you to find a replacement for me."
A replacement for her. The words sliced into his gut like a knife.
Never.
Oh, God. She couldn't go.
He nodded.
Samantha rose on shaking knees and looked down at him. There would be time to say some of the things she wanted to say later, perhaps, and time to consider things she would like to say but which, after careful thought, she would be wise enough not to. Deciding to leave well enough alone for the time being, she said a quiet, "Thanks for letting me know about this. I'm going home now. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," he echoed softly as the door swept silently closed behind her.
When she was gone, the silence in the room wept.
End Conversations B: Where a Conversation Might Go...
Wondering how it all came to this and how it gets resolved? Stay tuned for the fill in chapters, coming soon. I think I've got it all figured out!
Thank you for the comments and questions, and especially the emails directed to me personally. You know I love talking about characters!
See you next time around.
By: Mariel
Jack read the letter one more time and then, filled with dismay, sat back heavily in his chair. Closing his eyes tightly, he monitored his reaction and realised he had more in common with Danny than one might think.
Not really needing to go over them again, he opened his eyes and stared at the written words. He'd known this would happen, but had managed to set his fear aside. Now, it had come and he was forced to face it. He would have to ask her if she was interested.
And would have to face the fact that she would likely say yes.
Application for Transfer, Opportunity for Promotion, Staffing Request, Relocation Opportunity, Job Opening...the forms came across his desk periodically. Vivian had turned down a promotion six months ago because it would have meant moving, and she felt it was too soon to do so. Danny had turned down two offers to work in other Missing Persons units in other parts of the country, citing his desire to continue working with people he knew and enjoyed being with and to remain in a city where, at long last, he felt at home.
But Samantha? What would her response be? Once, he would have known. Just months ago, he could have even predicted her exact words as she turned it down. But now? He groaned inwardly. Now, circumstances were changed. He grimaced and ran a tired hand over his face. Once, she would have stayed to be with him.
Now, he feared she would leave to get away.
Placing the letter down, he slid it to one side and returned to his previous thought. Yes, he had something in common with Danny, but, unlike the young agent he had so much admiration for, he had not been so successful in dealing with it.
Addiction. It was a strong word, a worrisome word, a word that told of the past, present, and future in ways other words did not.
His addiction had begun the first time he'd interviewed her. Like any drug, however, he had not realised the effect she had on him at first. Yes, he had recognised the pleasure of her presence, the joy of her conversation. But he had not even briefly entertained the idea that the effect of her presence would grow, had never dreamed she would become such an integral part of his life that the thought of being without her would fill him with dread. Looking back, he realised he'd been hooked the first time they'd spoken, hadn't been able to get enough of her when he'd had her, and couldn't get her out of his system now that their affair was over. Remembering their painful parting, he could freely admit - to himself, at least - that he hadn't wanted to let her go then.
He certainly didn't want to let her go now.
He looked through his office window and saw her blonde head bent over the day's paperwork. Sighing inwardly, he rose.
"Samantha? Can you come to my office when you're finished? I have something I need to talk over with you."
She looked up at him, not overly curious, her eyes dark and warm, but holding little of what they once had. He looked away quickly as the pain of his loss ripped through him again. The mouth he had kissed, the face he had caressed with his fingertips... they were as out of his reach now as her heart. He'd earned that. Deserved that. Knew she'd worked hard over the past months to make it so.
It hurt. And bode ill for his hopes.
"I'm finished now," she told him. "Everything's just printing off. Are you going back to your office right away?"
When he nodded, she said, "I'll be there in about five minutes, then."
True to her word, she was at his door five minutes later.
"What is it, Jack?" The door closed behind her as she walked over and sat in the chair in front of his desk.
He wondered if this was the best way to give her the information and ask his question. Would her answer be different if he had decided to take a coffee to her desk and casually give her the letter to read? Or different if he talked to her about it over lunch, or when they were out on a case? He shook his head at his thoughts. The circumstances of his asking would not change her answer - only the circumstances of their relationship could do that, and he knew there was no going back to what had once been.
"I got a letter from Human Resources," he told her. Sliding the letter across his now cleared desk, he watched her as she read it, closely examining her expression for her reaction.
In his presence, she was too in control to give him what he needed. When she finished, she looked up. "This is quite an honour. I don't know what to say."
Not knowing what to say. That was a good sign, wasn't it?
"Are you interested?" The words stuck in his throat, and he cleared it.
She didn't answer straight away. Looking down at the letter again, she paused, then seemed to come to a decision. Lifting her head, she met his eyes. He saw the resolve there, and knew that she would take this route of escape. "It doesn't mention when they'd like me to start," she said.
His heart sank.
"I believe that depends upon how quickly we can arrange it," he told her, looking away for fear she would see his pain.
"New Orleans..." she said. "I've always wanted to live there. Nice to be warm all year round."
Oh, God.
"A big change from New York, though," he offered.
She nodded, knowing he felt uncomfortable, and understanding the reason why. She saw no alternative but to go. If nothing else, these past months had taught her that she needed distance in order to free her heart from the man who sat so calmly across from her.
Aching inside, she wondered how fast it could be arranged. She looked at him and knew that quickly or slowly made no difference. It would be painful, but she had to leave, and in leaving, save herself and perhaps him, as well.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled. Her face felt taut, and her lips trembled slightly as she forced them to maintain position. "Wow. This is so sudden. I guess I should call this guy," she said, indicating with a sweep of her hand the signature at the bottom of the requisition slip.
Deep inside her heart, where she couldn't erase such things, the hope that he might protest her going stirred.
He nodded, his heart sinking. How would he survive without her? How would he get through his days?
"Do you know anyone in that office?"
Her question jolted him from his self-pity.
He shook his head. "You remember Terry Baldwin?"
When she nodded and smiled at the memory of his being here to help on a recent case, he continued, "He ran the Missing Persons there for a few years before he took up his new position. He loved it there."
"Then I probably will, too," she said, for want of anything better to say. She looked around the room. "I'll miss all this." Turning her gaze back to meet his, she wondered if she should say more, wondered if she could say aloud how much she would miss him. She decided against it. Their conversations these days had dwindled to little more than work details. It had been easier that way. No danger of getting too personal, of saying the wrong thing and dredging up memories they were both running from.
No danger of ending up in bed together, swearing it was for the last time. "You don't have to accept it." The words were wrenched straight from his heart.
She held his gaze silently and saw his thoughts as clearly as though he was speaking them. Waiting a moment, she finally said, "I think I do." Then, because it was late, and because she was tired and there was no one else around, she added, "For the both of us. This hasn't been good, Jack. I don't think I could have gone on like this much longer. I-" she stopped abruptly, then raised both hands palm up in a motion of futility. "Someone has to do something. You're not going anywhere; it has to be me."
He knew she was right. But God, she was so wrong. She couldn't leave, she-
"I'd rather you stayed." He blinked. The disbelief he had actually verbalized his thoughts showed on his face.
She almost smiled, would have, perhaps, if she hadn't been hurting so badly. "I know. Me, too. But it's better if I go, and we both know why. I-" Again, she stopped abruptly, this time pausing to rethink what she would say. Her throat suddenly constricted, she finally said, "I'll call them in the morning and get more details. I think three or four weeks should be all it will take to deal with my apartment, to clear things up here, and for you to find a replacement for me."
A replacement for her. The words sliced into his gut like a knife.
Never.
Oh, God. She couldn't go.
He nodded.
Samantha rose on shaking knees and looked down at him. There would be time to say some of the things she wanted to say later, perhaps, and time to consider things she would like to say but which, after careful thought, she would be wise enough not to. Deciding to leave well enough alone for the time being, she said a quiet, "Thanks for letting me know about this. I'm going home now. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," he echoed softly as the door swept silently closed behind her.
When she was gone, the silence in the room wept.
End Conversations B: Where a Conversation Might Go...
Wondering how it all came to this and how it gets resolved? Stay tuned for the fill in chapters, coming soon. I think I've got it all figured out!
Thank you for the comments and questions, and especially the emails directed to me personally. You know I love talking about characters!
See you next time around.