A/N: Thanks as usual to cynically optimistic for being an amazing beta and helping me make this chapter readable.No
casefile stuff for a change really, all personal. Good news though, I
have finished this episode. I just need to type it up because I had to
handwrite the lot but even so should be getting updates a lot more
frequently. I've even started on my next one.
FBI
car in transit
19.5
hours missing
Back at the FBI office, Danny had made the decision to drive, a decision he was now regretting making. If Martin had seemed on edge before, he definitely seemed so now. He went from periods of distracting restlessness to being silent and motionless. If Danny hadn't known better he would have thought that he was on something, because this was the kind of behaviour he was more used to seeing in a junkie. Something was definitely bothering him and while Danny was loathe to interfere in his team-mates personal lives unless they specifically asked for his help, it had now reached the stage where he was no longer sure that if a situation arose, Martin would be capable of covering his back.
"Look man, something's not right with you. I know that you don't want to talk about it but I think that you have to," Danny told him seriously. Martin sighed. He understood Danny's concern, maybe even at some level welcomed it, but that still didn't make it any easier. Though if he was honest with himself, it had got to the stage where he needed to talk to somebody, anybody, because he felt that if he didn't he would go insane.
"It's complicated," Martin began expecting Danny to chip in. When he didn't, he reluctantly continued. "You see the night we closed the Palmer case, you know that Samantha and I left the bar together . ." Martin shot a glance at Danny who had his eyes fixed on the road.
"Yeah," Danny acknowledged, after a pause, taking care to keep his tone neutral.
"Right, well let's just say that I joined her for a nightcap." Martin paused again, desperately trying to gauge Danny's reaction. Danny kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road. What he thought didn't matter. What did matter was that he helped his friend through the minefield he'd unfortunately parachuted himself into. "Well, the next day she said that it wasn't a mistake but that it wasn't exactly something to be repeated."
"And you don't feel the same way," Danny added, marginally easing the tension which had suddenly crept into the car.
"I can't help it," he shrugged. "I know that it sounds fast, but I think . . I think that Iā¦." Martin trailed off. It might feel true, and he might really need to say it. But that didn't mean that the words either would, or indeed should come ā especially in front of his obviously uncomfortable colleague. Danny silently thanked whichever deity had just given them both this reprieve.
"Look man, I . . I'll tell you what you need." Danny grinned, mostly out of relief, and for the first time since this conversation had begun, shot a glance at Martin.
"You need to get out a bit more, see the talent, learn that there's plenty more fish in the sea, and all that. How about when this case is over you come over to my neighbourhood. I have several so called 'Gentleman Clubs' within walking distance of my apartment. We'll go out, have some fun, and I bet you that within ten seconds of walking in the door you'll have forgotten all about Sam."
"Yeah ok," Martin agreed. He sounded more than a little unsure but, Danny noted, he sounded a hell of a lot better than he had five minutes ago.
"Yeah, you wait and see," Danny winked.
FBI
Headquarters
20
hours missing
'This wasn't happening' Viv thought, 'It couldn't be, it just seemed all so unreal.'
That couldn't have been her that gave Jack that massive bruise could it? She never got angry, she prided herself on being grounded, the one who always kept their cool. To think this was all over a job was unbelievable, she hadn't thought herself that ambitious.
Sure it had been a bitter disappointment, knowing what was coming hadn't helped her. She'd been in denial, confident that Jack wouldn't do that to her. For years now she'd been sending off applications for command posts all over the city, that was her archilles heel, the job had to be in the city. What with her family she couldn't accept a position anywhere else and a command position only came up once or twice a year.
She sighed quietly to herself. She had her family. She would get over this; she knew it. In that respect, regardless of what had happened earlier, she was lucky ā luckier than her colleagues, at least.
Once again, her train of thoughts brought her full-circle ā Jack.
He was her friend. She'd known him for years. Now she'd calmed down, she couldn't believe that he would really have done that to her. He'd done a lot of stupid things in his life and a lot of things that she didn't approve of, but she'd never known him to be disloyal. It didn't make any sense.
Fighting her sudden feelings of doubt and guilt, Vivian looked out of the glass wall over to the unit. Jack and Samantha were sitting at the conference table still knee-deep in those files.
'If it doesn't make much sense to me, it probably makes even less sense to Samantha.' Vivian judged.
In a subconscious break from thinking about her own problems she allowed her thoughts to drift to her co-workers - something she'd not had to do, she realised, in quite a while. She'd noticed, of course, the distress written all over her female colleague's face when Jack had announced the fact he was leaving for Chicago. Everybody probably had, the shock and desolation had been so pronounced. Watching them though the glass wall, she started to appreciate the fact that she'd been idealistic enough to believe that it had ended there, that what they'd had between them truly was over and that Jack's revelation had just been the last nail in the coffin. In what was becoming the theme of her day, she probably should have known better.
She'd known about Jack and Samantha probably longer than they had themselves. Although this particular talent seemed to have failed her in the morning's meeting with Van Doren, she'd always been observant that way. She thought now what she'd thought back then. Jack was a fool. Oh, she knew he cared about his family. As a product of his own childhood, he probably cared more than most. But he was doing the wrong thing.
That said, she could understand the attraction. Samantha was young, pretty and available. She fitted the stereotype almost exactly. That was probably her one real problem with the affair, not the affair itself. As beyond her understanding and experiences as their actions were, affairs happened everyday and were, a little sadly maybe, a fact of life.
No, the problem she had with the affair was that while it may appear on the surface to be the glaring example of a stereotypical mid-life crisis, it was not. The day she'd realised that the feelings between the two of them ran deeper than purely physical fulfillment, was the day she'd wanted to say something. Jack had a family. And while he had no business having an affair, he definitely had no business falling in love. But fall in love he did.
Jack was an old friend, and contrary to what many would now believe, she cared about him. While it was probably wrong to wonder, evaluate and judge the lives and actions of others, even in her own mind. In this particular case she just couldn't help but wonder after all this, was now that Jack was getting a divorce, an occurrence she had expected a couple of years ago, what would he do about Samantha?
This would be complicated now he'd got his position back. He'd be breaking at least half a dozen conduct codes and could still lose his job. While that hadn't deterred him much the last time around, this time there was one less roadblock preventing the two of them from taking their relationship somewhere. And if this were to happen, then going public would not really be an option.
'Why did you want your job back, Jack?' Viv wondered for the umpteenth time that afternoon. 'It would have been a whole lot better for everybody if you hadn't.'
Sighing, she picked up the phone. She couldn't allow herself to continue this train of thought. It wouldn't do anyone any good. Barely looking at the pad, she keyed in the number and sat there listening to it ring. After a moment a familiar voice picked up.
"Hello," Marcus Johnson answered.
"Hey," Viv greeted feeling herself relax as soon as she heard his voice. On the other end of the phone Marcus frowned. He pulled off his remaining rubber glove and put it in the yellow biohazard bin behind the door. Leaning out of the door he called to his secretary.
"I'm taking five Marion. Hold my calls will you?" Marion nodded unable to reply as the phone started ringing.
"Do you want to talk about it," Marcus sank down into his comfy leather chair. Going private was the best thing he ever did.
In her office Vivian sighed almost imperceptibly. She didn't know why she had called her husband except for the comfort just hearing his voice gave. Pinching the bridge of her nose she tried to ward off the pressure that was building behind her eyes, giving her an instant and pounding headache. Part of her wanted desperately to talk about it, but the other half of her was scared that if she did her outward facade of control would crumble. She just wanted to forget it had ever happened.
"Did Reggie get to school ok?" Vivian asked, deliberately avoiding the subject. Marcus's face crumpled in sympathy. Whatever it was must be bad if she didn't want to talk about it now. They'd talk later, when they were together and at home.
"Reggie got to school just fine."
Vivian nodded feeling the small pinprick of pain that assaulted her every time she missed out on part of her son's life - even if it wasn't an important part. She could never be like Jack and put the job first, before everything. Some things had to take precedence and family commitments were one of those things. She had never missed a birthday, or a parent-teacher conference or even a little-league game when he was younger. She knew for a fact that Jack had missed all three on more than one occasion. The work they did was important. They worked in possibly the most important unit in the bureau. Not important in terms of what they did, they weren't flashy like counter-terrorism or fraud. But they saved lives and that was what truly mattered.
"He told me this morning that he's got a calculus test on Friday. He then asked me if he could sleep over Michael's Thursday night, ostensibly to study." Marcus continued keeping up a conversation of comforting normalcy.
"Night before a test, I don't think so," Vivian commented.
Before she could get any further, Danny chose that moment to tap on the glass wall of her office.
She reluctantly gestured to Danny that she'd be there in a minute. Danny nodded and headed off presumably to the interrogation room.
"I have to go."
"Ok," Marcus replied, hesitatingly adding, "See you tonight?"
Vivian bit her lip. She wanted nothing more than to be there; she wanted nothing more than to go home. Real life just wasn't that easy though.
"I don't know. I hope so. It depends on how the case goes."
Marcus nodded understanding like always. In the early days of their marriage his career had kept him away from home a lot. Now he'd gone private he worked the more accommodating hours of nine till five. Vivian however, had worked a nine till five bureau job for the early days. He guessed it was fair that she now worked a lot. Just because it was fair though, didn't make him like it any more.
"Right, ok. Talk to you later then."
Marcus hung up and slipped his cell phone back into his pocket before leaning forward and buzzing his secretary. He was ready for his next patient now.
Vivian hearing the phone go dead, sadly after a long moment, replaced the receiver. Taking a deep breath she stood up, ready now to face whatever was thrown at her.
