Chapter Three: My Soul Is Painted Like The Wings Of Butterflies

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 for the fantastic response so far.

Dedicated to:

Berta101, Raspberry Muffin, Missusmesser, Ninergrl, L'ilmissnitpick, Bdoney, Tracy, Isabell89, Biajones, Lu78, EquestrianBabe, SusanWATfan

Ariel3JLP – You've got nothing to be jealous about. If my fanfics were half as good as yours, I would be happy.

Without A Trace Freak – Yeah, you should try the chocolate thing. My friend got me doing the same thing but with Party Rings the other day but I was too impatient and just kept eating them instead……………… Hmmmm, what about After Eights and Party Rings together? Interesting ………………….

Csigirlie156 – Lock that shoe up I tell you, it's a dangerous weapon. I think Spanish is a more useful language to know since statistically more people speak Spanish than French. Or you could just master the International Code Of Arm Gestures. Hehe.

She was so angry, she was beyond angry. In fact she had been so angry on hearing what Jack had just told her that Samantha Spade was actually speechless for a full two minutes before starting a verbal onslaught on her boss that, if it were under any other circumstances, would certainly have seen her seriously reprimanded.

She had tried to cool off by pacing up and down on the balcony for a bit but it hadn't helped much and as she walked into the practically deserted office she felt that if there was a stapler or hole punch lying anywhere near, she would have loved nothing better than to have thrown it right through the glass into Malone's office.

"Well, I'm guessing by the look on your face Jack didn't want to see you about a pay rise." came a familiar voice from the conference table.

Samantha didn't say anything but flopped down on her chair. Martin walked over and sat on the edge of her desk. "What's the matter? OPR cleared you."

Samantha swallowed. "You'd look like this if your boss had just told you that you need therapy." she said at last.

Martin stared at her for a moment. "You're kidding?"

"I wish I was." she sighed, moving some files off her desk.

"You don't need therapy." Martin stated. Samantha looked at him, surprised. After last night, she had half expected him to agree with Jack on this matter. "What? You don't."

Samantha looked away. "Well, whether I need it or not, I have to see this 'Dr Harris' until further notice." she said bitterly. "Work's not really going great this week." she muttered, burying her head in her hands.

"Come on, let's head down to a bar." Martin said, getting off the table and rubbing her back, stirring her. "Alcohol cures everything."

Samantha forced a smile and let Martin lead her out the office.

"You know, I think there might be someone special in Mr Taylor's life." Martin started as they walked down the corridor.

"Really?" Samantha said. She knew what Martin was doing. He was trying to get her to focus on something else, take her mind off thinking of 101 ways to take revenge on Jack. Shame really, she was on 75 already.

"Yeah, he won't stop smiling nowadays."

"He could just be happy because of the good weather." Samantha mused. She caught Martin's eye and they burst out laughing. "Yep, there must be a girl involved." she relented. Just as she was about to mention some possible names, a voice called her from down the corridor.

"Agent Spade?"

Both her and Martin turned. A middle-aged lady with brown hair was walking towards them. "I'm Dr. Harris." she said introducing herself.

"Great." Samantha muttered, not even bothering to lower her voice.

Dr Harris ignored her. "Agent Malone wants our sessions together to commence as soon as possible so how does tomorrow morning at 7 for an hour before work sound?"

"It sounds tempting but I'm busy." Samantha said stubbornly.

"Busy doing what?"

"Busy getting on with life rather than having people interfering with it." Samantha said stonily.

Dr Harris just blinked at her. "Agent Malone said you would be like this."

"Yeah, well, more fool you to have bothered wasting your time then." Samantha replied bitchily, turning to go.

"I'm just doing my job and if you want to do your job too then I'll be seeing you at seven tomorrow." Dr Harris calmly, giving Martin a glance before retreating.

Samantha let out the breath she had been holding angrily. "Well, looks like my mornings are going to be starting a whole lot earlier from now on." she sighed. "Sorry Martin, but I'm going to have to pass on that drink if I want to have any chance of getting up in time for my lovely appointment tomorrow."

Martin shrugged. "No problem. Next time, yeah?"

Samantha smiled. "Yeah, next time. Right now I'm off home to punch some pillows." she said as they got into the elevator.

……………………………………………………

Samantha sat down in the most comfortable chair in the room and watched as Dr Harris settled herself in the one opposite and proceeded to fix her eyes on her as if she was some kind of specimen in a science experiment.

"So, how are you feeling today Samantha?" she asked.

"Murderous." Samantha said stoically. "And it's Agent Spade."

To her credit, Dr Harris didn't blanche. She was obviously used to dealing with difficult people.

"Were you feeling in the same sort of mood two days ago?"

"No. If I was then OPR obviously wouldn't have cleared me for those shootings, would they?"

Dr Harris didn't answer. "Agent Spade, you obviously don't think you shouldn't be here. Why do you think Agent Malone wants you here?"

"He got the date wrong and this is obviously some kind of April Fool's." Samantha replied, crossing her legs.

"You're not laughing."

"I don't think it's funny."

There was a pause.

"So, the shootings yesterday, how are you feeling about them?" Dr Harris asked, looking down at her notes.

"Rich if I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that." Samantha said. Dr Harris smiled weakly. Samantha wasn't smiling. "And sick and tired of having to talk about it."

"And your leg? How's that?"

"Well unfortunately I managed to get here today with no problem." Samantha said, her voice taking on a bored tone.

"Right, that's ….. good. So back to everyone's favourite subject. The shooting yesterday, want to tell me what happened?"

"Martin and I were tailing Carroll. He met these two men in a park to give them money. They had guns, Martin and I closed in. One of the men raised his gun and pointed it at me, I shot him and then proceeded to do the same again to the other man who was about to fire at me. If you want to know more, you can read Martin's report."

Dr Harris gave a little shake of her head to show that she wasn't actually interested in the details themselves. "Who's Martin?"

"Agent Fitzgerald. I was walking out of the office with him yesterday. We're on the same team."

"And what's your relationship with him like?"

"We're work colleagues and friends." Samantha stated. This conversation was jumping all over the place and now she was wondering what it was all leading to. Maybe it was a psychologist's technique to get their patient to let their guard down. It wasn't working on her.

Dr Harris stared at her. "Is that friends-friends or friends with benefits?"

If Samantha were not so intent on not showing any emotion other than hatred and anger, she would have burst out laughing. She leant back in her chair. "I'm sorry, I've never really understood that phrase 'friends with benefits'?" she said with mock-naivety.

"Are you sleeping together?" Dr Harris asked straightforwardly.

"That's really none of your business. None of my life is your business." Samantha said defiantly.

"Agent Spade, whilst you're obviously very intelligent and knowledgeable about your field of work, I don't think you really understand the concept of therapy. We need to talk about your life, your past and your relationships."

Samantha sighed. She was getting tired and she itched to be out of the room. "No, Martin and I aren't sleeping together." she said.

"You socialise a lot out of work?"

"Not until recently." Samantha said without telling her how recently. Her eyes came to rest on the clock. Dr Harris followed her gaze.

"Okay Agent Spade, I think we're done for today."

Samantha stood up and left without a word.

…………………………………..

"How was it?" Danny asked as Vivian and Martin also looked up from their work.

"The biggest waste of an hour of my life." Samantha grumbled, running a hand through her hair, walking past them and out onto the balcony.

Danny, Martin and Vivian exchanged a look and Martin stood up wordlessly and followed Samantha out.

Samantha didn't say anything for awhile and they just stood there in silence, leaning on the railings, staring over Manhattan. "Therapists are the spawn of Satan and Dr Harris has to be the worst of them all. I can see that my life is going to be hell for as long as I have to see her."

"What did you talk about?"

"Three guesses ….. but it wasn't just about the shooting …. it's like she wants to know absolutely everything about me and it's unnerving."

There was a pause as if Martin was turning something over in his mind. "What about if you tell Dr Harris what she wants to hear?"

"What and let her win?" Samantha said astounded. Martin gave a little smile and she knew he was acknowledging the fact that he knew of her stubborn nature. As far as she was concerned she didn't need a therapist and she most certainly wasn't going to narrate her past to anyone, her private life was private and she wasn't going to share it with a stranger, least of all Dr Harris, just because Jack said she had to.

"It won't be letting her win. Think about it: Jack's going to make you see her until she can confirm that you are, in fact, mentally stable, and the only way she's going to clear you is if you feed her what she wants to hear." Martin explained. "The sooner you open up to Dr Harris, the sooner you'll see the back of her."

Samantha nodded slightly. What Martin was saying made perfect sense: The longer she kept up the defiant act, the longer she wasted time repelling Harris, the longer she would have to endure the sessions. Besides, if she kept up the attitude it wouldn't be long until Dr Harris got pissed off and made some diagnosis up about her state of mind just for the hell of it. Samantha barely noticed the breeze blowing through her hair as she considered her plan of action. It would mean answering Dr Harris' questions truthfully and if she wanted to know about her past then she would have to tell her everything coolly and calmly. Ouch. Samantha felt a slight feeling of fear take hold. She had never related her past to anyone and for good reason too. She had put it all behind her, buried it all at the very back of her mind, ignoring it, moving on. And now she was expected to dig it all up. God she hated Jack. Samantha tried to reason with herself. Surely she would just be able to relate it unfeelingly to Dr Harris as if she was removed from her history – Dr Harris wouldn't judge her, tell anyone else and once it was out it all could be forgotten again …………………….. But it wasn't that simple, was it?

Samantha bit her lip and dropped her gaze to her hands. She knew that even if she did want to play the sharing game with Dr Harris, her mouth probably wouldn't cooperate. She would sit in the room during her next appointment and either she would automatically go into defiant-with-attitude mode or she would sit there in silence for the whole hour.

"Sam?" Martin's soft voice broke her out of her thoughts. He touched her arm softly and she looked up at him. His heart lurched at the haunting veil across her face.

Samantha saw the worry in his eyes and she felt her eyes start to well up. She bit down harder on her bottom lip until she was sure she must be making it bleed. For God's sake why did she feel like crying now? Her tear ducts must have wondered what the hell was happening to them. Why was it that he didn't even do anything and yet all her barriers seemed to melt away when she was with Martin? Was it because that every time he asked her if she was alright, his voice was so full of genuine concern and he seemed to honestly care more than anyone she had ever met before? Technically, they hardly knew each other before yesterday but yesterday had shown Samantha that they had an inexplicable connection and she felt oddly at ease with Martin – as if they had been close their whole life. Maybe they were meant to be friends. Dammit she wouldn't cry in front of him again.

As if reading her thoughts Martin didn't push her and let her take control of herself.

She took a deep breath. "It's just not that easy." she said at last. "Maybe that's one of my issues but I have a hard time opening up to anyone …." she paused. "I guess you've noticed how I tend to push people away instead of letting them get close and I prefer to keep stuff to myself. And the thought of having to talk about my past and everything to a stranger ……" she trailed off. Would he understand or would he just think she was weird for keeping everything so closeted?

Unbeknownst to Samantha, what Martin said next would turn her life around forever.

"What about talking to a friend?"

Samantha swallowed and looked at him questioningly.

Martin gave her a small smile. "Maybe if you talk things through before, it'll make it easier just to repeat it to Dr Harris?" When Samantha didn't say anything, he continued hesitantly. "We had a good talk a couple days ago ……. whatever's happened in the past, you know I won't judge you and it might help get things off your chest?"

Samantha looked straight at him. He was being deadly serious. She didn't know what to say. A part of her was telling her that it was the right thing to do but the other part shied away from the thought of telling Martin some of her past exploits. He said he wouldn't judge her but how could he help do anything but that. After all, Samantha even judged herself for some of the things she had done.

"I ……" she hesitated. Martin was looking at her encouragingly. As much as she would hate to admit it, it really had been good to be able to unload some of her burdens that night at the bar. Someone had once said that friendship was like therapy for poor people and it wasn't until now when she was going through another rough patch in her life that she realised maybe doing the whole 'I can survive without needing anyone' act wasn't a good idea after all. In fact it was thoroughly crap idea.

She looked back at Martin. "Are you sure? I mean after a day of me at work the last thing you probably need is to hear a whole sorry sob story about my life …….."

Martin smiled. "I wouldn't offer if I had any problem with it. So you up for it?"

Samantha nodded. "Yeah, I think I am." She said with a smile.