AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, I know – it's been a ridiculously long time in coming but I hope that you like it. This is the last chapter as I want to turn my attention to other things, but I would LOVE to add to the reviews for this fic… please?

A few days later, Sam was beginning to walk the walls of the hospital. Having never been the most patient of people, spending time as a hospital patient really didn't suit her. By day she would groan at the cringe-worthy day time television, annoy any doctor that passed with the usual question 'Can I go home yet?' and count down the seconds until Martin would come and visit.

At twenty past five on the dot every day, he would walk through the double doors, loosening his tie as he did so and greeting her with the usual words 'How you feeling?' To this she would roll her eyes and mutter something along the lines of 'Fine, absolutely fine, always fine. When the hell can I get out of here?' He would chuckle slightly and pull up a chair.

And then would be the time that Sam craved, the time when he would tell her about what had been going on all day, tell her about the latest case and possible leads and allow her to come up with suggestions and ideas. Her mind was as sharp as ever and Martin was simply unable to comprehend the difference between her staring lifelessly at the television screen before he entered and the chatty, bubbly Sam that emerged at merely the mention of work. It was ironic really, he thought, that the one thing that she really loved was the thing that had caused her to end up in such a state. What he didn't realise was that during these times, she was smiling because she was surrounded by the two things that she loved.

Neither of them mentioned their time apart and what had happened. It didn't seem appropriate and Martin figured that Sam would bring it up in her own time. But for days on end she didn't. Not until Jack paid a visit that was.

He came on the pretence of paper-work, but, although it did, indeed, have to be done, his eyes alone showed that he was desperate to see how Sam was doing. He couldn't help but care, as a friend and as a colleague but not, he assured himself, as anything else. But he heart ached as he saw her lying in a hospital bed, battered and bruised but, as ever, defiant. 'Hey' he said as he entered, initially somewhat uncomfortable in his position but, as ever, quickly adapting. Sam smiled, appreciating the company, but knowing that awkward questions were to come.

'How are you feeling?' he began with. 'Surprise, surprise,' thought Sam, restraining herself from the normal eye-roll and answering the usual exasperated 'Fine!' 'You know,' he continued, 'that I'm going to have to ask you a few questions, just to satisfy all those bureaucrats. Are you up to it?' Sam nodded, unsure whether or not she actually was but certainly not willing to admit any sign of weakness.

'Just take it gently, yeah? And tell me if you want to stop?'

Sam nodded, although she wasn't going to admit it, she appreciated the concern. She could already feel a light sweat on her palms and began to fidget uncomfortably with her fingers. Taking a deep breath, somehow the words all stumbled out.

'I was going back round to Simon Marshall's place, to try to talk to his girlfriend and to look over some stuff… I rang the bell and three blokes came to the door – two in suits and one in an army uniform… They were pretty angry, more so when I got out my badge. I said that I needed to go in; they said no, I went in anyway, went into the living room. There were maps all over the place and quite a lot more people. I saw the maps, Jack. I saw a suitcase of money and I saw Simon Marshall… I saw too much.'

Sam stopped, pausing for contemplation. 'It was my fault, you know. They gave me an opportunity to go, if I wouldn't say anything or whatever… I refused. A couple of them, the army general guy and one other got really, really mad, started lashing out and saying stuff… I don't remember much more, just waking up now and then in that small room on the second floor…'

She looked at Jack as if to ask, 'is that enough? Can I stop now?' and Jack smiled reassuringly as if to say yes.

'You know that we can't prosecute though, right? It's bigger than us, I messed it up… it was my fault that you were involved.' Jack paused, overwhelmed by guilt and suddenly unable to look Samantha in the eye. The next thing that he knew was that she had rested her hand on his.

'It's not your fault, Jack and don't try to give me any of the guilt stuff. I'm fine and everything is going to be fine. It's not worth you or anyone else beating themselves up over.'

For the first time in days, Jack felt as though he could breathe easier, like he had been rid of a huge burden from his shoulders. He looked up, his dark eyes meeting Sam's coffee brown eyes and it was as if some greater force was pulling him towards her. He couldn't stop it as he embraced her in a warm, friendly hug. It felt right, Sam thought, for them to be friends – nothing more and nothing less. She needed him more than she would ever like to admit, and yet somehow she couldn't feel for him anymore what she once had.

'Jack?' Sam asked as the two pulled apart.

'Yeah?' he questioned anxiously.

'You couldn't ask Martin to come in, could you?'

Jack nodded, while getting to his feet. Deep down, he knew that Martin and Sam were right for each other; it had just taken him a while to see it. And, for the first time, he was happy for them as well - happy because Sam was happy and happy because at last he could move on.

A few minutes later, Martin put his head around the door. The two made eye contact and couldn't help but smile. They were soon wrapped in each other's arms. Sam allowed her head to rest on Martin's shoulder and closed her eyes, secure in the knowledge that he was there.

Suddenly though, her head jerked back as she sensed an uneasiness in his actions and his mood. And it didn't take her long to work out what was going through his mind.

'You are NOT going to Washington to put the world to rights' she stated simply and firmly. 'I'm ok and there's nothing you can do about it all. I wouldn't want you to anyway…. '

Martin sat there, dumbfounded. How the heck had she known….?

'Promise me, Martin. Promise me that you'll just let it rest.'

He sighed, knowing that he really didn't have much choice and that it would be futile to even start arguing. And anyway, she was probably right. 'I promise,' he spoke softly, 'I promise if you'll promise me something as well.'

Sam looked at him somewhat suspiciously before picking up the glint in his eye. 'Promise you what?'

'Promise me that you will never scare me like this ever again and that you'll let me be here for you…because I want to be here for you…I want to always be here for you'

Sam grinned, trying to think of words to answer him, to let him know that that she felt the same way, that she'd let him be there for her if he'd let her do likewise. But her mind was too filled with love and painful memories to think of any words for the future. So instead, she just leaned forwards and allowed her lips to meet with those of a man who she could even consider life without.

FINITE