A/N: Thanks for the great reviews, it keeps me going and always appreciated!... Thanks to lovely Mariel and her excellent advice on fiddley bits, and to Inken, for being supportive... So, without further ado...

Xx--

"Martin...?" Jack asked, confused.

"Martin Fitzgerald?" This time in disbelief. Louder.

"Fucking MARTIN?" he practically roared.

Samantha blinked. This wasn't going as well as expected. She folded her arms defensively. "Do you mean what I did, or badly describing him?"

"Him? For Christ's sake, Sam -Martin? What the hell were you thinking?" he threw at her, eyes blinking rapidly as he spoke.

An angry Jack was always impressive, but a jealous, angry Jack was something new. She'd always wondered how he'd react if he found out, and here it was, in all its eye blazing fury.

"What was I thinking?" she threw back. "What the hell do you think? You went to Chicago and he was here. Fuck you, Jack!"

"So when did this...this-" he threw a hand in the air, "thing actually begin? While I was still here? Afterwards?"

She was silent a moment, choosing to look away. "The night you left, actually," she said, aiming to hurt. If he was going to play this game, then so was she, dismayed at how suddenly things had changed.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" Jack couldn't believe it; he couldn't believe himself. If he looked at it objectively, he shouldn't be upset, but combining his feelings for Samantha with last night, and the fact that it was Martin, he couldn't stop himself from steamrolling down the path he'd created.

"Why?" she asked. That stopped him in his tracks. "You left me, your job, New York, and now you get all possessive. Get real, Jack! What right do you have anymore?" she said, punctuating her words with finger jabs in the air. "And what the hell's wrong with Martin anyway?" Shit, why am I defending him?

Jack placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. "Because... because he's-" Because he's a nice, young guy, and everything I'm not; he's that prick Victor's son; he wears pink shirts for chrissake; I've worked with him, mentored him, and you're mine... "…Martin Fitzgerald, that's why! What were you after exactly -summers in the Hamptons, and winters in Aspen?"

"Look, it was only a few months and he dumped me a few weeks ago, happy?"

"Oh, so I'm the rebound guy now?"

"For God's sake, get over it! That's not what last night was about. It was a mistake, all right?"

"What, last night?" He ran his hand through his hair in disbelief. "Thank you very much-"

Samantha rubbed her temple in frustration. "I meant Martin..."

"Oh yeah, several months of mistakes...Of all the men in the city, bloody Martin! Why not that damn Keller again?" He might have understood that decision.

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. Jack strode past her to get. "This is far from finished, Sam," he hoarsely whispered, realizing how loud they'd been. He flung the door open; too angry to wonder who it might be at 8 o'clock in the morning.

Danny was standing there, with two coffees and a brown paper bag. "Caffeine fix and danishes -breakfast of champions." He was horribly bright and cheerful.

Jack, inwardly groaning, managed the smallest smile. "Morning, Danny-"

"Thought I'd walk with you along Chambers Street, we need a catch up..." He brushed past Jack into the hotel room. "C'mon, get your stuff..." he trailed off, surprised at seeing Samantha, sitting in a chair with her arms crossed and a sad frown on her face.

"Hey Danny," she managed, looking at him with hurt eyes.

Danny's trained eye took in the dishevelled bed; a fuming Jack, now looking out the window, clenching and unclenching his jaw like a pulse; and a miserable Samantha. "Do I need to guess what happened?" he asked. Some things were fairly obvious and Danny wasn't stupid. "You both..." He indicated the bed.

Samantha nodded imperceptibly. "And I told him about Martin and I," she said quietly, risking a glance in Jack's direction.

Danny followed suit, putting the food down. It was easy to figure out what Jack thought about that. "O-kay…" He didn't know what to do. Try and calm Jack down, or offer support to Samantha. It was a tough call and Danny really wasn't in the mood to play counsellor. "Look, call me a coward, but I'm going to leave you two to it. Just clear the air before you get to work, all right?" He looked at each of them. "All right?" he repeated.

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets as a response. Samantha barely shrugged her shoulders.

Danny decided that was the best he was going to get out of them. "I'll see you later. Enjoy the breakfast." He left, shaking his head. Once on his way, he rang Vivian to say he was going to follow some leads from the previous night and would be in later; any excuse not to be around the bullpen that particular morning. There was going to be a dead man walking.

As the door shut, Samantha looked over at Jack. "Coffee?" she barely whispered, reaching over to get herself one off the table, something to take her mind off the hurtful things that had been said.

He shook his head roughly. Food was the last thing on his mind. He didn't know what to think anymore. He was ashamed at his actions. It didn't make sense, he knew that. He had no right to feel this way, but he did, and he couldn't stop it. "Sam, I just don't understand-"

Abruptly, she stood up. "To hell with this Jack, I'll see you in the office." Picking up her things, she refused to look him in the face.

"Sam..." he began again.

"Stop it..." she raised a hand, still not looking at him. "Just stop it, Jack. All I wanted was just a hint of what we used to have. Just one more night, the last night we never had I suppose... I shouldn't have told you about Martin, but then again, I should never have used him like that."

"You're saying it's my fault," he said, flatly.

"If you want to think that -fine," and she left him staring at her retreating back.

The door slammed shut.

This time there was to be no running after her.

Lost, and suddenly very tired, Jack looked around the room, before finally settling on the side table. His watch and wedding ring were there. Going over, he picked up the watch and put it on while staring at the golden band. He wondered why she didn't ask him about it. Maybe she hadn't noticed. He'd wanted to tell her why he'd taken it off, but there was no point now. He jammed the ring back on his finger, twisting it down and pushing it onto the webbing, causing him some pain. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, put his head in his hands and shut his eyes, a victim of his own jealousy.

Xx—

Outside the hotel, Samantha fought back the tears that were threatening to cascade down her cheeks.

They'd had their differences at work, but they'd never fought like that. There had never been a reason to.

He'd hurt her, but they'd worked things out between them. This… this was different. She was amazed at his reaction. It was too late now to change the past; the relationship with Martin, and being foolishly honest with Jack. What was done was done. Jack would just have to deal with it.

She drank the coffee, welcoming the slight burn as she swallowed it.

Xx—

Jack was the last to arrive at Vivian's office, carrying his small suitcase, placing it by his chair as he sat down.

Vivian looked pointedly at it. "Good morning, Jack. Going somewhere?"

"One way or another, I'm going back to Chicago today," he said firmly, purposefully not looking over at Samantha. She wasn't looking at him. He was, however, staring past her at the bullpen.

"But you haven't found Emerson yet."

"It's not looking likely."

"Okay, have it your way, I can't stop you, but I still want you to keep trying before you go. Samantha, you were saying?"

Samantha began to bring Vivian up to speed on the cold trail, and about the impending trip to Staten Island, while Jack kept being distracted.

Vivian noticed. "Jack?"

There he is. "Excuse me for a minute," and before anyone could react, he was up and off to the bullpen.

Oh fuck, thought Samantha.

Vivian looked at her. "Is there something I need to know? God help me, if you two have been…"

Samantha could only cover her eyes in annoyance. Christ, could it get any worse…?

Jack was at the bullpen. "Martin? I need a word," and he indicated the balcony before striding off. Perplexed, Martin obediently followed him along the corridor and had barely shut the door when Jack spun around.

"I know."

Martin looked at him blankly.

Jack filled him in. "About you and…" he said, tipping his head.

Understanding now, Martin chose to remain impassive, and nodded, wondering where this was leading.

Stepping forward, Jack said icily, "What the hell were you thinking?"

Martin raised his eyebrows at that. "Me… you're having a go at me, Jack? What the hell's your problem?" he said, stepping forward until they were a few inches apart.

"I just want to know why, damn it!"

"You left. Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"You're her colleague." It was the best Jack could come up with, knowing how pathetic it sounded.

"And you were her boss, what the hell were you thinking? Damn hypocritical of you!"

Jack was seriously considering punching him, right there and then.

"You want to know why I broke it off, Jack? Because three people in a relationship is one too many, and you know what that's like too, don't you?" They were staring each other down. "And you think it didn't cross my mind, when Samantha and I were in bed together, that she might just be thinking of you?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at that, but held his ground.

Martin then stepped backwards, attempting to diffuse the situation. "Look, this is pointless. It's over, finished. This is crazy Jack -why are you acting all macho all of a-" he paused, putting the puzzle together. He looked in the direction of the bullpen. "Ah, I get it now… One day back in New York and the two of you-"

"Shut the fuck up, Fitzgerald," Jack warned, stepping towards the younger man again.

Martin was shaking his head in disbelief. "You two really are a piece of work, you know that? You actually deserve each other," he said, and began to walk away. "Good luck with it," he flung at Jack over his shoulder.

Jack watched him go, and saw Samantha on the other side of the glass, looking at him with a sad expression on her face.

He hadn't known what good confronting Martin would have done, and now he had his answer: none at all. It hadn't accomplished anything. It certainly hadn't made him feel any better. Turning around, away from Samantha's eyes, he looked out over the city and leaned against the railing. He heard the door open again, and footsteps.

"If you're going to jump, Jack," Vivian said, joining him, "just give me time to clear the traffic."

Jack snorted. "It's not that bad."

"Really? Because you look like crap, and you're acting like an idiot."

Jack said nothing.

"So… you and Samantha again, huh?" He reluctantly nodded. "And you just found out about her and Martin," she stated.

"Did you know?" he rasped, staring at the street below.

"Not for some time… New job, other things on my mind. They were pretty quiet about it. I wasn't exactly going to phone you and mention it, was I?" Vivian, the voice of reason.

He exhaled loudly, shoulders slumped. "I suppose not," he mumbled.

"You left her, Jack. You left us all. You made your decision, and that's the reality of it. You're still married, although if this is an indicator of how things are going..." She shook her head, almost to clear it. "I didn't invite you back here so you could jump into bed with Samantha."

"It wasn't planned." He wasn't sure if he was lying or not.

"Thank God for that. Look, we've got missing people out there; they're our main concern. I'm not giving you advice on your personal life, but just keep it out of work, okay?"

He looked at her ruefully. She knew as well as he did that sometimes it wasn't easy. Deflecting the situation, he said, "We haven't got much of anything to go on. He's been missing since Monday night. We'll check the phone records and credit cards this morning for anything new, then off to Staten."

"Sounds like a fun ride." She put a comforting hand on his upper arm. "I miss you being here Jack, you're a good friend. I just wish we could've had more time to catch up."

"It happens. Another time maybe."

"What's going to happen when you get back home?"

"I... don't know. Something's going to have to change. I just don't know what."

"I'll be staying in touch more."

"So will I." He gestured to the bullpen. "I'll be back in a moment."

She nodded. "Okay."

He looked back over the city, recalling Samantha's sad face through the glass. He knew that look. He'd seen it many times before, usually because he'd caused it.

Xx--

January 2002

The phone rang only once before Samantha picked it up. It was Jack, softly asking her to come into his office.

He'd been closeted in there since early morning. Vivian had said she didn't know why he hadn't come out; catching up on paperwork maybe. Danny had said he didn't know either; probably secret squirrel stuff. Curious, Samantha logged off her computer.

He'd left her late the previous night, gently caressing her throat with kisses before putting on his coat. "See you soon, sweetheart," he'd said, before a final sweep of her lips with his.

She'd snuggled deeper under the covers, hugging the pillow his head had recently been resting on, like she was a schoolgirl again. She felt loved, she felt protected. Knowing she'd see him and be in his company in a few short hours dulled the pain of his leaving every time.

She knocked at the strangely closed door and opened it. She stood in the doorway, and smiled. "Hey. Good morning."

Jack was at his desk. "Come in, Sam." He was quiet, head down, looking at his hands clasped in front of him. Samantha could sense something was wrong. "Shut the door, please." He was like this when he had to break bad news to families.

Samantha did as asked and then sat down. "Is something up?"

He glanced at her briefly, before focussing on his hands again, spreading them out in front of him. He looked like hell. It was only then that Samantha noticed the redness around his eyes, the general rumpled look to him. "Jack, did you stay here… last night?"

He looked up at that, and Samantha's own breath caught; there was an inexplicable sorrow etched on his face. He looked somewhat wildly around the office, anywhere but at her. "Ah…I went home and Maria…I'm sorry, Sam… I can't do this anymore… I've got to think of the girls…"

Her mouth fell open.

Numb.

Blank.

Stunned.

"I came here last night… We'll work things out." His face didn't seem to agree with what he was saying, but she knew he was doing what he had to. She knew he was hurting, as painfully as she was. They had both known it couldn't go on indefinitely.

Samantha's limbs refused to allow her to storm out; she could only sit and stare at the man she loved.

Jack eyes finally settled on her, care and concern on his drained features. "You okay?"

It was her turn to look away. "No." It was barely articulate.

"Do you want to take the day off?"

Knowing she shouldn't, to show him she was tough Sam Spade, she surprised herself by murmuring, "If that's all right." Every woman deserved the right to be lonely and miserable after having her heart broken by the man she loved, no matter how inevitable it was.

She collected herself and managed to stand up. "I'm sorry too, Jack."

He looked forlornly at her. He'd created so much damage in so few words.

"Jack…" she hesitated, her voice breaking. She should say something, put up a fight, show how she felt about this. Of all the places to do this in, he did it here, protected behind his desk. She realized no matter where it was done, she'd feel just as badly, and be hurt just as much. "Jack…I just would have liked one more night with you, as goodbye, rather than… this."

"Me too."

They shared one last look; so much to say, and no more time to say it.

Xx--

Samantha had watched the two men outside. It wasn't hard to guess what the topic of conversation was, even though she only could faintly hear them through the glass.

What a contrast. Martin was certainly good-looking, the all-American boy, every mother's dream date for their daughter. He'd been a fairly good lover; she'd had worse, and God knows she'd had better: Jack. But overall, when all was said and done, Martin didn't hold a candle to the man who had stood confronting him.

Then she watched Vivian talk to him, and then watched him standing there, alone. She was in two minds whether to join him or not. Vivian appeared at her shoulder.

"You want to talk to him?"

Decision made. "He needs to cool down."

"And you need to find Emerson."

Xx--