Stages
By: Mariel
Samantha observed Jack with dark-eyed concern. Glancing at the others gathered around the table, she wondered if they knew how much this particular case was affecting him. For a week now, he'd been driving himself and the team relentlessly, seemingly hell bent on bringing a missing son home. All leads, however, had led nowhere. As each person gave their report, she watched as his features tightened harder and harder until his face was nothing but an expressionless mask covering what she knew hid frustration and anger. In spite of initial high hopes, he'd once again have to report to a frantic mother that there was nothing to report, that no progress had been made. Worse, new cases would inevitably demand their attention, and she knew he'd then have to tell the grieving woman that they needed to devote time to those and pull back the number of man hours spent on searching for her son.
Meeting over, Jack dismissed everyone, but remained seated. Vivian, Martin, and Danny filed out. Samantha stayed at the table. Dark eyes considering him closely, she did not speak.
Examining the notes in front of him, Jack seemed not to notice her presence until, without looking up, he said, "I'm okay, Sam."
"No, you're not."
He put the paper he was holding down and rubbed his face tiredly. "I hate this."
She stared at him silently for a moment, then said in a soft tone, "Everyone's going home, Jack. You should, too." A beat, then she suggested, "Or we can grab something to eat and then you can go home. I know you didn't take time to eat lunch, and it's late to expect Maria to have dinner still waiting."
He paused a moment, weariness making his thoughts slow. Finally, knowing that being with her was all he wanted, he said, "Dinner sounds like a good idea."
"Of course it does," Samantha smiled. "Give me ten, and I'll meet you in your office. We'll go back to our Thai place. It's been months, and I could do with something that'll give my mouth second degree burns."
Pleased when her comment elicited a small attempt at a smile from her boss, she turned and left.
-- -- --
Arriving at the restaurant, they requested and got what they had come to think of as 'their' booth. Food before them, they talked about any and everything until coffee was served. While they waited for the bill, Samantha tilted her head to one side and regarded Jack with warm eyes. She noticed his features looked more relaxed, his posture less tense. "This seems to be a good place for us," she observed softly.
Jack nodded, thinking that it was more she that was good for him. Talking with her helped put things in perspective. The frustration and heartache caused by his not being able to help bring a son home was still there, but it was muted, and balanced by reassurances and practical observations that all that could be done had been done.
It was 1 a.m. before they left the restaurant and began their journey to the subway. Feeling strangely content, Samantha slipped her arm comfortably through his as they walked. Large flakes of snow were falling and covering everything with a thin layer of white. Looking up into the darkness, she watched as they floated down. Resisting the childish urge to stick out her tongue and catch one, she felt happiness flood through her.
Jack watched her. "You look happy," he said, thinking she looked beautiful.
Squeezing his arm, she said, "I am. It's been awful at work, but tonight's dinner changed my mood completely. I feel better about tomorrow." She glanced at him. "You have that effect on me."
Feeling better about tomorrow. He turned the words around in his mind and realised that she had that very same effect on him.
Jack slowed their progress to a halt. When they were stopped, he turned her to face him. She looked up at his expression and without thinking placed a gloved hand on his chest.
"I've spent time thinking about the effect we seem to have on one another," he admitted, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to have all the unspoken things that had been happening between them out in the open. This warmth he felt between them, this sense of closeness and belonging...it was new to him - and frightening and exciting all at once. This was not the simple attraction one felt after working with someone of the opposite sex for a while. Nor was it just lust or longing. He looked at her, searching helplessly for words to express what he was thinking and feeling.
While he looked at her, Samantha searched his eyes, reading in them some of what he couldn't find the words to say. What she found made her reach up and lightly touch her lips to his. Just as quickly, she stepped back.
"Jack, I'm sorry. That was-"
She had no opportunity to say more. Taking her arm, he drew her to him and slowly placed his mouth over hers.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she responded, mindless of where they were and how what they were doing would look to those passing. Their kiss deepened and she pressed herself against him, her body responding as it never had before to a man's mouth on hers. When they were both breathless, she tucked her head under his chin and pressed her forehead against his neck. "Oh, God,..." she whispered, wanting time to stop right then. Closing her eyes, she willed this not to be a dream. Willed him to not say anything that would take away any of what she was feeling. This, she realised, was what all these months had been leading to. This was what she wanted more than life. Him. His touch. His warmth pressed against her. When he was with her, she was home, and nothing else mattered.
He moved to release her, but she murmured, "No. Please. Just hold me a bit longer. I know you shouldn't, but please." She tightened her grip on him. "I don't want to let go."
His embrace strengthened and they stood in silence, snow gently falling around them. After a moment, she stepped back slightly, then leaned in to place her mouth near his. "Don't let's talk just yet," she whispered softly. Placing an encouraging hand against the back of his head, she drew him into another kiss.
Time passed. Jack slowly became aware of the deepening snow and the quickening wind. When Samantha shivered against him, he said, "You're cold. You should be going."
She looked at him, her eyes glowing with a desire that took his breath away. "It's not cold making me shiver, Jack."
Joy coursed through him. He had no right to be holding her on a street in the middle of what seemed to be the beginnings of a snow storm and feeling this happy, but he was. He had to stop, though. "It's getting late," he cautioned her. "The wind's picking up and the snow is getting heavier. You'd better be getting home."
She nodded, understanding. She wanted to savour this, think about it, mull it over for a while. Reluctantly, she withdrew her arms from around his neck. Looking up at him with eyes that hid nothing of what she was feeling, she said, "Good night, then."
"Good night."
They touched lips briefly, then he watched her leave, picturing in his mind's eye himself walking beside her. When she was out of sight, he turned and slowly walked away, his happiness wrapped tightly around him.
End
-Stage 3-