Author's Note: This is only the first third of this story. Click on my homepage or go to AFF for the full NC-17 version. This story was a gift for silverwolf and she wanted NC-17 so here's what I can post here, but I seriously suggest checking out the full and naughty version. Be sure to check click my homepage in another week or two as well when I change it from livejournal to my website which will house my writing and several other Skewed Believers, plus fanart and lots of wonderful Jack/Samantha fun. Reviews are appreciated.

Sam sat alone on the top floor of the firehouse. Tonight was New Year's and Angel had a date with John. Everyone at work had a party to attend and even Chloe was at her grandparents, leaving Samantha by herself. Forcing away a wave of loneliness, she reached underneath the Christmas tree and started distributing her presents to their permanent locations. Tomorrow while Angel nursed a hangover she would take the tree down and put away the ornaments.

When Sam came to the large gift basket of bath products Chloe had given her, she decided to indulge herself. For once there was no danger of interruptions, she thought as she went into the the bathroom and began drawing a bath. Angel wouldn't be home until late tomorrow morning and Chloe wouldn't return until later in the day. There were two agents in the firehouse on the first floor and the firehouse was completely secure so no danger of Jack invading her house. What did he do on New Years? Damn it, can't you go even one day without thinking about him? Samantha berated herself as her thoughts turned to her stalker.

After taking off her clothes, Sam sunk into the scented bubbles and closed her eyes. She allowed her mind to wander. Another year had come and gone, another year of hiding from Jack and more bodies piling up on her conscience. And she didn't even get the pleasure of killing any of them, a traitorous voice in her head whispered. Wouldn't Jack love to hear that one! Lately she'd been carrying on full scale conversations in her head with Jack. Every time Samantha vowed to stop and every time Jack's voice crept back into her mind.

After over half a decade of pursuing her, Jack had never shown his face to her. Always he courted her with flowers and corpses, like whispers in the night, never face to face. She had heard his voice though, on the phone when he would call to taunt her. No one knew, but she used to listen to a copy of the tape evidence gave her when he dedicated Stranger on the Shore to her. Sam had listened to his sibilant voice so many times the tape wore out. Since then she had purchased a CD of the song, but it wasn't the same without Jack's torturous words framing the melody. Someday she might work up the courage to ask for another copy from evidence but she was afraid of how to explain needing another copy.

Jack had always intrigued her with his puzzles and his feverish, though unwanted attentions. Then, Memphis changed everything, when Samantha had been so close to Jack and yet so far away. Only a few feet away from her, he'd spoken seductively of truths she'd long denied and feelings that he alone understood. Jack had been so close she could smell the faint scent of tobacco and roses and could almost feel his breath on her body. Surrounded by the rose scented bubbles, the memory came back full force and Samantha shivered in the warm water as her nipples hardened against her will.

After Jack's voice had aroused and tempted her, nothing felt the same. Suddenly, Coop seemed less handsome and began to irritate her, work held less interest, and home felt like a hollow masquerade. Since that day, the only time Samantha felt alive was when she thought of Jack or looked over evidence from the Trades case. Sam would die of embarrassment if anyone ever discovered the small clutch of roses stolen from evidence that were hidden in her bedroom. She had never broken a single rule or law in her life, until her need to feel closer to Jack became too tempting.

Late at night when she was alone, she would inhale the fading fragrance of the roses and imagine what his face looked like. Time and again she would swear to throw the roses away in the morning and would try to conjure up a deformed monster; but she never could bring herself to throw them away. Worse still, the monstrous visage would evaporate and leave a handsome face to tempt and torment her until Samantha would succumb to temptation and touch herself. Afterwards she would look at Tom's picture and cry herself to sleep out of guilt and shame, only to dream of Jack's touch and wake up alone and wanting in the cold light of morning.

The weakest moment of Samantha's life had come when Jack had kidnapped her and carried her to Robin Poole's apartment. When she had regained consciousness and realized he was so close, she wanted desperately to feel him. Her eyesight compromised by his home brew washy wash she felt vulnerable and Jack was the only secure thing in the world at that moment. Samantha had yelled at him and had demanded he take her hand, when he hadn't she felt crushed. Had it not been for the muffled sounds of the bound Robin, Sam would have succumbed to the urge to plead with Jack and sacrificed any pride she had left.

At that moment she would have given anything for him to hold her and reassure her. To be so close and yet so far had been so terrible. Jack told her she would walk a mile in his shoes; but it wasn't the murder he briefly framed her for that made Samantha feel like she'd walked in his shoes. It was the indescribable loneliness she'd felt being so close to him and yet so far away. Was that what Jack felt? As Samantha got out of the tub and dried off, she wondered what Jack was doing...

Jack stood in front of his full length mirror looking over his appearance with a critical eye. For several minutes he studied his tie intently, trying to decide if it was tied perfectly or not. He was wearing a white tie and black tails that he'd picked up from his tailor earlier in the day. Although Jack seldom thought much about his appearance, tonight it was important to him. Tonight he had a date with his Samantha and they would ring in the New Year together. After a spray of cologne, he picked up the black satin mask and pulled it over his eyes. The half mask framed his eyes and left his jaw and mouth exposed. While Jack didn't wish to wear a cumbersome disguise, he had to be certain of Samantha before he could reveal his true face in it's entirety.

Recently he'd noticed a change in Samantha and her demeanor. Originally Jack had intended to get a protégé and allow her to kill Coop. But Sharon got into a fight just before being released and had time added to her sentence and Sam had broken things off with Coop, allowing Jack to table Coop's demise to a later date. Samantha showing her gum chewing swain the door had been a pleasant and unexpected surprise. Something felt different since Robin Poole's apartment. When Samantha had demanded Jack touch her, it had taken all his restraint not to take her in his arms then and there. However, Jack felt she wasn't ready at that time and reluctantly resisted.

In the months before Robin's killing spree, when Jack spoke to Samantha in Memphis, he felt her wavering and actually listening to him for the first time ever. Though the conversation was shorter than Jack would have like, it was also longer than he had dared to hope. He expected her to cry out to her coworkers at the first little verbal push, but she lasted through several to Jack's delight. Every encounter they had, he became more convinced that she was closer to accepting what was between them. Tonight would be Jack's boldest move he'd made in his pursuit of Samantha.

When she was unconscious after the spider bite, after treating her and putting the wash into her eyes, Jack had busied himself with silicon molds. He'd molded Samantha's face for a now defunct plan involving Sharon and Jack molded Sam's hands to get her hand print so he could enter the firehouse. The guards would present little problem, Jack knew where they ordered takeout from most nights and arranged for the food to be laced with a sedative. Before midnight, Jack would be able to visit Samantha and ring in the New Year with her.

Satisfied with his appearance, Jack pulled on the surgical glove he'd adhered Samantha's handprint to. Turning his hand over, he looked at her print on the palm of his hand, his eyes lovingly tracing the lines he'd nearly memorized since taking the cast. Tonight he would be so close to his Samantha, Jack thought with a smile. Jack grew hard as he looked up at one of her photos smiling down on him. Absently he caressed his shaft for a moment before pulling on a pair of black leather gloves, covering the medical glove which held the key to seeing Sam. Jack forced himself to take a deep breath and reminded himself that it would be a long time before Samantha was ready for intimate contact. Tonight, he would content himself merely to speak to her for a few moments and if she seemed receptive, maybe to steal a kiss...

Sam opened her dresser drawer and started to reach for her pajamas when her hand moved over a silky white nightgown. When she purchased it, she'd been thinking of Jack. Later she felt guilty and so it remained untouched. The ankle sweeping gown had been on clearance so she couldn't return it and now the unworn garment called to her. What would it hurt to wear it just this once? No one would see her in it and she hadn't actually bought it for Jack, Sam tried to convince herself. Her pajamas remained in the drawer as the column of white silk slid over her curves. For a moment Samantha closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feel of the sensual fabric, but as her thoughts turned to her stalker, she forced her eyes open and stormed out of the bedroom.

Walking into the living room, Samantha grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels, desperately trying to find something to watch that would take her mind off of Jack. The silky feel of the material was starting to arouse her and she'd managed to go nearly a week without touching herself and fantasizing about Jack. If she didn't find something to occupy herself and quick, Sam would break her New Year's resolution before it even started. As she sped through the channels, Samantha finally settled on the Times Square New Years Countdown, the noisy and crowded scene was as far removed from Jack as she could imagine.

As Samantha sat watching the television she was oblivious to Jack's approach below. After parking near her building, Jack got out of his car and looked around cautiously. He checked his watch, a quarter to midnight, just enough time to see in the New Year with his Samantha. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he reached inside his jacket and wrapped his hand around his knife. Weapon at the ready, Jack slowly opened the door to the firehouse. He was relieved to find the two guards snoring loudly at a table filled with half eaten Chinese food.

Smiling, Jack walked towards the scanner, the guards would be unconscious until sometime tomorrow afternoon. Pulling off his black leather glove, Jack pressed the medical glove Sam's print was adhered to against the scanner. His breath caught as he waited for the scan to complete and the elevator door to open. Grinning as the doors opened, Jack entered the elevator and waited for the doors to close. As the elevator ascended towards his Samantha, Jack removed the medical glove and shoved it inside his jacket pocket. Just as the elevator came to a halt, he pulled the black leather glove back onto his hand.

Absorbed in the New Year's Countdown, Sam didn't notice as the knob of the front door turned slowly and then opened to admit the shadowy figure of Jack. The only illumination besides the flickering television was the lights of the tree and a few candles scattered throughout the apartment. From the shadows, Jack watched his Samantha while remaining concealed in the darkness. Drinking in the sight of her, Jack committed every detail to memory to savor and cherish when he was alone again. In the darkness he indulged in the fantasy she had dressed in the provocative nightgown to please him. Unable to resist the idea of being able to feel her skin against his, he slid the leather gloves off his hands and pocketed them.

Sitting and watching the television, Sam felt resentful towards the happy couples the cameras were panning over. Hundreds of happy women who were content with nice normal men that would kiss them at midnight, instead of watching television and fantasizing about a serial killer. Draining her glass of wine, Samantha reached for the bottle on the coffeetable and tipped it over her glass, only to find it was empty. There had only been a couple glasses in the leftover bottle from Christmas. Briefly she debated whether or not to open another bottle. Why shouldn't she? It wasn't like there was anyone to see her, why shouldn't she have as much as she wanted, the voice in her head taunted.

As Samantha stood up, the television announced, "It is now the final countdown before we drop the ball here at Times Square. Ten... Nine..."

Moving forward from the shadows, Jack murmured, "Samantha."

"Seven..." the television persisted.

"Jack," Samantha gasped in shock. Standing before her in tie and tails, with only a small eye mask to conceal his identity, was the man who haunted her dreams and fantasies.

"Five... Four..."

Closing the distance between them, Jack stood before Samantha and gathered her into his arms. Too surprised to resist, she stared at him. Jack captured her mouth with his and began to kiss her.

"Two... One... Happy New Year!"

As Old Lang Syne played in the background, Samantha melted in Jack's embrace. Part of her knew she should fight him, the part of her that was an agent. But Agent Sam Waters wasn't in control at the moment, Samantha who fantasized over Jack's roses was in control and she had no desire to pull away from Jack. Her arms wrapped around him as she returned his kiss with equal fervor. When Jack finally pulled his mouth from hers, Samantha made no move to get away from him, content to stay in his arms.

Nuzzling her face into his neck, she whispered, "Happy New Year, Jack"

"And to you my Samantha," Jack sighed against her hair.

See my homepage for NC-17 conclusion.