Maybe Tomorrow
By: Anti Darth Ani
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Wow! Didn't expect so many reviews! I love you guys. Maybe I should focus more on Without a Trace than on CSI. ;). Well I'm so glad everyone liked the first chapter, and I hope you all like this one as well. Sorry it has taken me so long to update, but I went out of town for the Fourth of July. God bless America!
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"Martin, please," Sam begged, frustrated and exhausted. Jack calling to tell her that he wasn't moving and that he needed to speak with her face to face was the last thing Sam Spade needed at the time being.
Martin ignored her protests as he continued to redress, clipping his beeper onto his belt and pushing his cellphone onto the belt next to it. He didn't want to here what she had to say. He was livid that she had almost yelled that they were sleeping together on her cellphone to Jack. He didn't bother asking her for his shirt back, simply pulling on his windbreaker over his undershirt and zipping it up.
At first he had only been slightly confessed to why she had almost said what she was going to on the phone, but when realization dawned on him and he knew who she had been speaking to on the phone, he had just snapped. Hadn't Sam just told him less than a week ago that her feelings for Jack never left, just faded? Yeah well, just because they've faded doesn't mean they won't pop back up to the surface, Martin thought to himself.
Sam didn't have the energy to argue with him. She couldn't find the words to assure him that Jack didn't mean what Martin thought he meant to her anymore. And she had to feeling that she shouldn't have to explain it word to word to Martin. He should just take her word for it, he needed to be able to trust her, after all. But as Martin made his way to the front door of her apartment, Sam got a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't just let him walk out without knowing he understood that she didn't care about Jack's feelings towards her anymore.
Sam dashed across the living room and stood in front of the door right before Martin reached it, "Please don't leave like this, Martin," she voiced softly, the doorknob blocked safely by her hand.
"Samantha, come on. I don't know what Jack said to you, but I really don't want to be here right now to help you figure it out. I need to…" Martin trailed off because he didn't really have anything he needed to do except get the hell out of there before he made a jackass of himself.
"God Martin, try and understand," she asked of him. "I don't need you to help me figure anything out, because I don't need to figure anything out. Jack's in the past and it's going to stay that way. Will you please stop being so rash?" as she finished the last sentence, she latched a hold onto the zipper of his windbreaker and began to pull it back down.
Martin groaned as she slowly brushed her lips against his, "This is unfair and you know it, you manipulative little…" he was interrupted by a steady knocking on Sam's door. Sam frowned and released Martin's zipper before turning around and unlocking the door. She opened the door an inch and peered out into the deserted hallway of the building. Samantha let out a low groan, "Jack…" she complained while she used her foot to edge Martin out of the view.
"You hung up so abruptly that I didn't get to finish talking with you Sam. I honestly just want to talk with you, Sam. My intentions are innocent, I assure you," Jack mumbled and Sam realized he was soaking head to toe. She had forgotten it was storming terribly outside.
"Jack, no… you can't do this," Sam replied as Martin rested his head against the wall behind the door. He was so tempted to just leave right then, but then Jack would know something was going on between them and that was the whole reason Martin was mad at Sam in the first place.
"Well then can I at least come in until the rain lightens up a little bit? I'm soaked all the way through and I'd hate to have a cold tomorrow." Sam saw a look in Jack's eye she knew all too well. A look she didn't like anymore and hadn't liked since the day he had broken things off between them.
"Umph," Sam grunted as Martin kicked her leg not so softly. She knew what he was thinking and that had been slightly uncalled for. "Jack, go home," Sam whispered as she slowly closed the door. Just before she did, Jack realized all she was wearing was a man's shirt. Locking the door, Sam turned back around and saw Martin leaning against the wall. She felt like she owed him an explanation of some kind, but she wasn't sure what to say exactly, so she forgot about it. "You really didn't have to kick me, you know," she mumbled as she walked into the kitchen.
Sam didn't really think about what she was going. Automatically, she poured water into the kettle and set it on the stove, turning on the burner before rummaging through the cabinets, looking for her herbal tea. She needed something to make her relax and to help clear her mind. Martin watched her closely, not saying a word until she finally managed to find her tea bags. "Don't you think it's a little late to be making tea?"
Sam looked at the tea bags in her hand and sighed dropping them onto the counter, "Yeah, you're probably right. I just… he's just so…argh," Sam sighed, turning off the stove and then emptying the kettle over the sink before setting the kettle in it. "Sometimes, I think I will never be able to hate him more, but then he goes and does something else, ever dumber than everything else, and proves me wrong."
Martin really didn't want to get dragged into a long conversation about Jack, at least not right now. Half an hour ago he had thought nothing in his life could have been better, but one stupid phone call had changed everything for him. "Sam…" Martin started, not knowing what to say without hurting her feelings.
"I know," she replied, "you don't want to talk about it right now. Well I don't blame you," she added the last sentence as she leaned her back against the kitchen counter, running one hand over her face and rubbing her eyes which were starting to burn. Martin slowly walked over until he was standing right in front of her. As she reached for the zipper of her windbreaker again, Martin placed one hand on the counter on either side of her so that he could lean forward and kiss her.
When he pulled away, Sam opened her eyes slowly and finished unzipping the windbreaker. "You're not still mad at me?" she asked, looping her arms around his neck. Martin sighed, but he began to smile, "No, I guess I'm not mad at you anymore after all."
"We really should get to sleep. Vivian will have both our heads if we don't show up and you know we can't show up without any sleep. That's career suicide." Sam said all this as she pulled him through the apartment to her bedroom. Martin wordlessly followed and wondered if he would ever be able to sleep with Samantha so close to him.
By: Anti Darth Ani
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Wow! Didn't expect so many reviews! I love you guys. Maybe I should focus more on Without a Trace than on CSI. ;). Well I'm so glad everyone liked the first chapter, and I hope you all like this one as well. Sorry it has taken me so long to update, but I went out of town for the Fourth of July. God bless America!
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"Martin, please," Sam begged, frustrated and exhausted. Jack calling to tell her that he wasn't moving and that he needed to speak with her face to face was the last thing Sam Spade needed at the time being.
Martin ignored her protests as he continued to redress, clipping his beeper onto his belt and pushing his cellphone onto the belt next to it. He didn't want to here what she had to say. He was livid that she had almost yelled that they were sleeping together on her cellphone to Jack. He didn't bother asking her for his shirt back, simply pulling on his windbreaker over his undershirt and zipping it up.
At first he had only been slightly confessed to why she had almost said what she was going to on the phone, but when realization dawned on him and he knew who she had been speaking to on the phone, he had just snapped. Hadn't Sam just told him less than a week ago that her feelings for Jack never left, just faded? Yeah well, just because they've faded doesn't mean they won't pop back up to the surface, Martin thought to himself.
Sam didn't have the energy to argue with him. She couldn't find the words to assure him that Jack didn't mean what Martin thought he meant to her anymore. And she had to feeling that she shouldn't have to explain it word to word to Martin. He should just take her word for it, he needed to be able to trust her, after all. But as Martin made his way to the front door of her apartment, Sam got a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't just let him walk out without knowing he understood that she didn't care about Jack's feelings towards her anymore.
Sam dashed across the living room and stood in front of the door right before Martin reached it, "Please don't leave like this, Martin," she voiced softly, the doorknob blocked safely by her hand.
"Samantha, come on. I don't know what Jack said to you, but I really don't want to be here right now to help you figure it out. I need to…" Martin trailed off because he didn't really have anything he needed to do except get the hell out of there before he made a jackass of himself.
"God Martin, try and understand," she asked of him. "I don't need you to help me figure anything out, because I don't need to figure anything out. Jack's in the past and it's going to stay that way. Will you please stop being so rash?" as she finished the last sentence, she latched a hold onto the zipper of his windbreaker and began to pull it back down.
Martin groaned as she slowly brushed her lips against his, "This is unfair and you know it, you manipulative little…" he was interrupted by a steady knocking on Sam's door. Sam frowned and released Martin's zipper before turning around and unlocking the door. She opened the door an inch and peered out into the deserted hallway of the building. Samantha let out a low groan, "Jack…" she complained while she used her foot to edge Martin out of the view.
"You hung up so abruptly that I didn't get to finish talking with you Sam. I honestly just want to talk with you, Sam. My intentions are innocent, I assure you," Jack mumbled and Sam realized he was soaking head to toe. She had forgotten it was storming terribly outside.
"Jack, no… you can't do this," Sam replied as Martin rested his head against the wall behind the door. He was so tempted to just leave right then, but then Jack would know something was going on between them and that was the whole reason Martin was mad at Sam in the first place.
"Well then can I at least come in until the rain lightens up a little bit? I'm soaked all the way through and I'd hate to have a cold tomorrow." Sam saw a look in Jack's eye she knew all too well. A look she didn't like anymore and hadn't liked since the day he had broken things off between them.
"Umph," Sam grunted as Martin kicked her leg not so softly. She knew what he was thinking and that had been slightly uncalled for. "Jack, go home," Sam whispered as she slowly closed the door. Just before she did, Jack realized all she was wearing was a man's shirt. Locking the door, Sam turned back around and saw Martin leaning against the wall. She felt like she owed him an explanation of some kind, but she wasn't sure what to say exactly, so she forgot about it. "You really didn't have to kick me, you know," she mumbled as she walked into the kitchen.
Sam didn't really think about what she was going. Automatically, she poured water into the kettle and set it on the stove, turning on the burner before rummaging through the cabinets, looking for her herbal tea. She needed something to make her relax and to help clear her mind. Martin watched her closely, not saying a word until she finally managed to find her tea bags. "Don't you think it's a little late to be making tea?"
Sam looked at the tea bags in her hand and sighed dropping them onto the counter, "Yeah, you're probably right. I just… he's just so…argh," Sam sighed, turning off the stove and then emptying the kettle over the sink before setting the kettle in it. "Sometimes, I think I will never be able to hate him more, but then he goes and does something else, ever dumber than everything else, and proves me wrong."
Martin really didn't want to get dragged into a long conversation about Jack, at least not right now. Half an hour ago he had thought nothing in his life could have been better, but one stupid phone call had changed everything for him. "Sam…" Martin started, not knowing what to say without hurting her feelings.
"I know," she replied, "you don't want to talk about it right now. Well I don't blame you," she added the last sentence as she leaned her back against the kitchen counter, running one hand over her face and rubbing her eyes which were starting to burn. Martin slowly walked over until he was standing right in front of her. As she reached for the zipper of her windbreaker again, Martin placed one hand on the counter on either side of her so that he could lean forward and kiss her.
When he pulled away, Sam opened her eyes slowly and finished unzipping the windbreaker. "You're not still mad at me?" she asked, looping her arms around his neck. Martin sighed, but he began to smile, "No, I guess I'm not mad at you anymore after all."
"We really should get to sleep. Vivian will have both our heads if we don't show up and you know we can't show up without any sleep. That's career suicide." Sam said all this as she pulled him through the apartment to her bedroom. Martin wordlessly followed and wondered if he would ever be able to sleep with Samantha so close to him.