Chapter Two: You Could Be My Railroad

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, Without A Trace or the F.B.I. I do however own my imagination, my Muse, my insanity, my fangirliness and my dreams.

A/N:- Thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter. Moving away from canon, everything from now on is what I think SHOULD have happened in Season Two.

Dedicated to:

SusanWATfan, Jodiexx, Raspberry Muffin, Lu78, WithoutATraceFreak, Sweethoney89, NightMage

Higherbeingfriendsfan – I think I'm going to write this whole fic from Sam's POV as much as possible which is unusual for me because I usually swap POV throughout my fics.

Csigirlie156 – SHOE BEATER ALERT! I'm afraid …. Very afraid …… and by posting this I beg your mercy. Most people in the centre of Paris should be able to speak French. I can speak French but it didn't help anyway because I was just ignored by the Frenchmen purely on the basis that they hate the English (stereotypically anyway …). Or maybe I just have a crap accent.

Ariel3JLP – Hey there! The title's a lyric from an Oasis song and I thought it was very pretty ………… In case you hadn't noticed most of my fanfics have song lyrics included in the title and chapter titles because I am really unoriginal. Yeah, sometimes I see an episode and just have the urge to write the thoughts behind the words/expressions. I have a list of episodes still left to do but I don't want to start on them before I finish at least this or 'Come Back Down'.

Jtsideout389 – Yes. Terrorists suck. Gathered you have probably heard about the new attempted attacks. It's a sad world we live in.

Sat in a quiet corner of the bar Samantha watched as Martin made his way back over to their table and put her drink down on the table in front of her.

"Thanks." she said with a small smile. He sat down silently and took a sip of his beer glancing at her. She looked down into her drink, staring at the clear liquid. On the way over here they had made idle conversation about the weather and how crowded the streets were and Martin hadn't pushed her to talk. She knew he was letting her do it in her own time but now she felt awkward and didn't know where to start.

"So, I guess I've got months of being stuck behind a desk to look forward to." she sighed.

"Don't get your hopes up." Martin said shaking his head slightly. "The OPR have no reason to do anything except clear you and you'll be back on the field in no time."

"If only that was true." Samantha sighed.

"Of course it's true." He paused. "You don't mean you're having doubts about the shooting yourself are you?" Martin asked a little surprised.

Samantha squinted and looked down at the table. "I just don't know anymore." she said softly.

"Sam." She didn't look up. "Sam." he said again. She looked up and met his gaze hesitantly. "You've got nothing to worry about okay? I was there, I saw it. You saved Carroll's life. If you didn't shoot then either him or you would be the ones dead."

Samantha looked at him. It was what she wanted to hear and she could see that he wasn't just saying that to make her feel better. She swirled the drink in her glass around. "Maybe. Doesn't mean OPR are going to see it like that though."

"Why not?"

"Martin, I shoot the two suspects that could have been the only ones who knew where a bus load of children were, the day after I come back from recovering from getting shot myself. What do you think it looks like?" Samantha replied edgily. Martin looked at her silently. There was an uneasy pause. She took a deep breath. "Sorry I shouldn't have snapped at you." she apologised. She let go of her glass and pressed her forehead with both of her hands. She hated feeling like this. She hated the way she was bringing Martin down with her. "I'm just not sure of anything anymore. Maybe I did go out on the job today with more will to shoot than before. Maybe I wasn't thinking 100 clearly when I pulled the trigger. Maybe we could have just talked ourselves out of the situation."

Martin reached over and rested his hand on top of hers giving it a comforting squeeze. Samantha looked at him shyly. "I don't believe a word of it." he said. "If this case had happened before you got shot, you would have done the same thing. If this case had come in two months down the line, you would have done the same thing. Do you know why? Because it was the right thing to do." Martin said forcefully. "If I was in your position I would have done the same thing." he added. "Whatever happens with OPR, I'll hold to that." He rubbed the top of her hand gently with his thumb and Samantha felt electricity run up her arm which she was sure wasn't intended. Martin seemed to feel it too and he withdrew his hand a little embarrassed.

Samantha ran a hand through her hair. She trusted Martin and she did feel more reassured about the shooting. She tried to relax a bit but there was something still bothering her.

"It's not just OPR I have to worry about though. Jack doesn't think I'm stable enough to have in the workplace." Martin raised his eyebrows. "He sent me home today although I told him I'm fine." she explained. There was silence.

"Are you really fine?" Martin asked quietly.

Samantha looked up at him, surprised by his question. He met her gaze steadily and she could tell that he wasn't joking with her. She looked away, unable to lie so blatantly when they both knew the truth but at the same time not wanting to have to admit it out loud. He saw right through her. Her life was unravelling and she didn't think anyone had noticed. Of course, she hadn't done a very good job of hiding it this evening. Her eyes stung and her stomach clenched but she had tried holding the tears back for too long and her eyes started to involuntarily go watery. "No, I'm not fine." she said so quietly that it was barely audible. Then she shuddered and buried her face in her hands, crying openly.

She felt Martin stand up and sit down next to her on the bench and she felt his arm go around her shoulder and he slowly pulled her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry …. It's just everything ….. building up." she muttered through her tears. She realised how long it had been since she had just let go of herself like this. The shooting today was just enough to push her over the edge but she had needed to let go a long before today.

"Hey, take your time." Martin said soothingly rubbing her arm. "It's good to get it out."

She leant against him glad of the comfort and cried until she couldn't even remember what she was crying about anymore. She felt the tension ease with each tear and the stress of the past few months slowly drift away until she didn't have any tears to cry anymore.

Then embarrassment took over and she moved away from Martin, going pink as she looked at the wet patch she had made on Martin's shirt. She couldn't believe she had completely broken down on him. They weren't even that close. They didn't talk or socialise out of work and then the first time they spend time together she cried all over him. Even Danny had never seen her like this and she was much closer to him than Martin. "I'm so sorry." she said, blowing her nose. "I don't know what came over me. I ……"

"Sam," Martin said interrupting. "Crying's nothing to be ashamed of." he said quietly as if he could read her thoughts. "It's good to get it out. Everyone needs the release. I know how everything just builds up and then all of a sudden you just have no idea what to do anymore." Samantha wiped her eyes. "Better?" Martin asked looking at her caringly. She nodded. "Look, I know a small restaurant round the corner from here, why don't we grab something to eat?" Samantha nodded again and smiled her thanks. Martin seemed to understand as he smiled back and lead her out without another word.

…………………………………………………………..

Samantha hid a smile as she listened to Martin narrate an anecdote about the first time he ever went skiing. An hour ago she was at the lowest point in her life since she had joined the Bureau, but now she was relaxed and even able to enjoy her meal. She didn't know whether it had something to do with the fact that Samantha Spade had actually shown that she was human and that she needed someone or whether Martin was trying doubly hard to cheer her up but the awkwardness between them had gone. Martin hadn't mentioned the shooting or asked her what else was bothering her since they left the bar and instead they talked about nearly everything from favourite foods to sport. She had discovered much to her surprise that they actually had a lot in common: they liked the same music, teams, films, books and the conversation flowed. And the most amazing thing, considering the situation an hour ago, was that Martin managed to make her laugh. He had just a wry sense of humour – witty and sarcastic which she loved and she felt a connection there – Martin just got her.

" ……… so I think I've got more reason to be embarrassed after telling you that than anything you've ever done in your life." Martin finished, putting down his knife and fork and leaning back in his chair.

"I doubt it." Samantha laughed. "Your escapade didn't include corn flour and nudity." she said pointedly.

Martin's grin grew larger. "C'mon you can't say something like that and not tell me about it."

"Oh I think I can." Samantha said. "I've got dinner." she said taking out her purse as the waiter approached.

"No, we'll split it." Martin argued.

"You bought the drinks."

"So?"

"So I owe it to you. And not just for the drinks." Samantha said as Martin opened his mouth to argue. "You really made me feel better tonight." she said meaningfully.

"Then you'll let me pay for dinner." he said, placing his credit card on the plate and handing it back to the waiter before she could snatch it off.

"You're really annoying." Samantha said, glaring at him.

Martin shrugged as he signed the bill. "I just think Agent Spade likes getting her own way a little too much."

"I don't." she insisted. "But you're going to let me make you a coffee back at my apartment. It's the least I can do."

"Is that an order?" Martin quipped.

"Yes." Samantha laughed, standing up. Her smile instantly faded though and she leant against the table heavily. Her leg was really stiff and she realised what with other things filling her mind, she had forgotten to rub cream on it this evening.

"You okay?" Martin asked, making his way round the table to her worriedly.

"Fine." Samantha said grimacing.

"Come on, lean on me." Martin said, putting his arm around her shoulders and helping her walk out the restaurant.

"I'm fine." she insisted, limping.

"It was an order." Martin said, looking down at her and helping her.

Samantha gave a soft laugh and shook her head. It wasn't weak to need someone. Today had taught her that much.

……………………………………….

"Sorry it's a bit messy." Samantha said as she pulled her key out and pushed the door open.

"I thought you said 'a bit.'" Martin laughed, walking in and taking his jacket off.

"Shut up." Samantha said elbowing him, going into the kitchen to put the kettle on. She couldn't hide the smile building up in her. Today really had been a day of two halves – It had started horrible but was ending incredible. She picked up the mugs and grabbed a box of chocolates, walking back into the lounge.

Martin had seated himself on the sofa and was flicking through one of Samantha's fashion magazines that she had left on the coffee table. That's how bored she had been being stuck at home – having read everything she owned from cover to cover she had resorted to buying cheap magazines to keep her amused for half an hour.

"I doubt you'll find any useful fashion tips in there for you." she said, putting down the cups.

"Well, you never know." Martin said, tossing it in the newspaper rack.

Samantha raised her eyebrows and sat down next to him. "Is there something you're not telling me Mr Fitzgerald?"

Martin leant against the arm of the sofa and stretched. "Yes. On the weekends I am actually Martina and am the honoury member of New York's own cross-dressing club." he said his tone low and his face the perfect picture of seriousness.

"You're joking right?" Samantha said looking at him.

His face broke into a grin. "What do you think?"

"With you, I'm not sure."

Martin looked mock-offended. "What's that meant to mean?"

Samantha shrugged and looked at him. "I haven't quite figured you out yet. How do I know you don't have crazy fantasies!"

"Even my fantasies aren't that crazy!" he said laughing, leaning forward and picking up the box of chocolates. "You know, there's only one way to eat After Eights." he announced, opening the box and taking out a thin square piece of mint chocolate and handing the box to Samantha. "Take one out and balance it on your nose."

Samantha looked at him as if he was mad. Martin did have only one drink at the bar right? "Oh you poor delusional child, did no one tell you that you eat with your mouth." she said, shaking her head with silent laughter.

"Haha. No, seriously, balance it on your nose." Martin said, doing as he said. "I learnt this at College. The object of the game is to try and get the chocolate off your nose, into your mouth and eat it without using your hands." he explained, looking up at the ceiling as the chocolate wobbled on his nose.

"You're being serious aren't you?" Samantha laughed.

"Totally."

Samantha relented and followed suit. How come she had never seen this fun wacky side of Martin before? Was he always like this out of work? She didn't know. Right now she was having trouble getting the chocolate to even balance on her nose, not to mention getting it into her mouth. After several tries she gave up and watched as Martin found success after only three attempts.

"See, it's not that hard." he said triumphantly.

"How long have you been practising that?" Samantha said, laughing.

"Come on, it's not that hard." Martin insisted taking a fresh chocolate out of the box and tilting Samantha's head back with his free hand. He got the After Eight to balance on the tip of her nose and watched with amusement as Samantha opened her mouth, stuck her tongue out and gently lowered her head a few millimetres making the chocolate slip down and fall. She expertly jerked her neck to the side and managed to catch it on the end of the tongue. Martin clapped and cheered. "See, now you've learnt a new party trick." he grinned.

Samantha laughed and took a sip of her coffee. "Are you always so random?" she asked.

"If you can't be random and have a laugh, then life gets very dull."

Samantha nodded, agreeing with his philosophy. She leant back on the settee and drank her coffee, enjoying the comfortable silence between them. As a result of the shooting, her relationship with Martin had certainly taken a turn for the better. Generally a very tense person, Samantha didn't think she could ever feel relaxed with someone, especially after such a hectic day but here she was enjoying every minute of it.

"What are you thinking about?" Martin asked, looking her, a little anxiously.

Samantha smiled. Usually she would hate being fussed over or having people worry about her but with Martin it was kinda sweet and nice to know he cared. "Just thinking how much you've cheered me up this evening."

"That's what I'm here for." he replied, resting a hand gently on her leg. She flinched slightly. "Your leg still aching?" he asked softly. She nodded. He ran his hand over the wound on her thigh and began to massage it gently. Samantha's uncomfortability increased. She didn't want to feel like this, especially not with Martin but ….. Dammit why couldn't she have been shot in the arm! Nibbling on her bottom lip, she looked across at Martin but he seemed unaware that he was doing anything except helping an injured friend.

After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time to Samantha, he removed his hand and looked up, giving a small chuckle.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"You've got chocolate on your nose." he said scooting closer and rubbed her nose gently.

A shiver ran down her spine. He was close, invading her personal space and she involuntarily bristled. Martin must have noticed and he removed his hand but instead of moving away he just looked at her hard, searching her eyes. Samantha didn't know why but she felt strangely comforted when she looked into his eyes, there was something very reassuring about them which made it very easy for her to lose herself. She was dimly aware of Martin's head moving closer by about a quarter of a millimetre – or maybe she imagined it, she didn't know, but the next minute the shrill ring of her cell phone broke the peace.

Martin moved back to his end of the sofa silently. Slightly dazed, Samantha unfastened her phone from her belt and tried to moisten her dry mouth.

"Hello?"

"Sam, it's Jack."

"Oh, hi." Samantha said, a little surprised that he was calling. Then it dawned why. True enough, he didn't beat about the bush.

"I'm just checking up on you."

"Well, I'm still taking my medicine for my leg and apart from the occasional ache, it's fine." she said, deliberating misinterpreting his meaning.

There was a pause. "I'm not going to apologise for sending you home today but I know you weren't exactly happy about my decision and, well, how are you coping with the shooting?"

Samantha looked across at Martin, he was crouched forward, leaning on his knees, his hand clasped together, staring at the carpet, waiting for her to finish her phone call. "Fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Absolutely fine. Well I am now." she paused. "Jack, you didn't need to send me home but I understand why you did. Everything's fine and I'm ready to answer all the shit OPR will throw at me or whatever."

"Positive?"

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, get some rest. Bye."

Samantha flipped her phone closed.

Martin stood up. "I've really got to be off." he said without looking at her. "Early start tomorrow."

Samantha could detect a certain amount of awkwardness in his voice obviously regarding the moment earlier. She didn't say anything for a minute but stood up. "Martin?" she said softly. He looked at her hesitantly. "Thanks for tonight." she said. Then she did something very un-Samantha like and leant forward and hugged him, she felt his arms fold over her back and she rested her head on his shoulder. "You really made me feel better."

"I'm always here." Martin said, his voice slightly muffled by her hair.

They pulled away and shared a look of understanding. "Goodnight."

A/N:- Good, bad or ugly? And I'm talking about the chapter here!