A/N: Okay, the next chapter will be the last. It was getting quite large, hence the chop. This is just a short one, but trust me, it's all for a good cause... Heaps of flowers for Mariel for her help!

Xx--

It was shortly after 3:30 p.m. when Jack stood in front of the departure board, horrified. You have got to be kidding me...

What the hell was wrong with LaGuardia today? It was only a Saturday and yet there were severe delays in all the domestic flight departures. Judging by the hordes of people milling around, he wasn't the only one eager to get away and seriously unhappy at the hold-up.

He waited patiently in line with his pre-booked Sunday night flight ticket, hoping to get an earlier flight, and was rewarded with several stand-bys plus a confirmed seat on a flight rescheduled for ten p.m. It appeared that security concerns and aircraft problems were responsible for the delays. He debated with himself about blatantly abusing his FBI badge to get an earlier seat, but pushed the idea aside. There was no emergency to justify it, and his sense of fairness wouldn't let him bump some other poor person with troubles of their own out of their seat. He sighed. It looked like he had time to kill. Hours and hours of time, in fact.

Locating a seat in the central terminal, he decided to sit down and phone home while keeping an eye on the departure board.

Kate answered but was a little too distracted by Hanna's computer game prowess to be of much use in the conversation department. Asking them if they wanted gifts at least got their interest; a snow globe for Kate, and a t-shirt for Hanna. Something staunchly, symbolically New York. Now they didn't live there, they had become fiercely proud of the city they'd grown up in. They asked when he would be back and he said perhaps later that night, but he was definitely sure he'd be there in the morning. Asking about their sleepover, he settled back into the seat, smiling at their reported antics. He rang off several minutes later, feeling refreshed.

Then he realised that he hadn't asked to speak to Maria.

Great, something else for her to rant at me about.

It wasn't as if she'd been trying to contact him exactly, either.

Not feeling bothered or guilty in the slightest, Jack set off to do some shopping.

Xx--

Unsurprised at the fact that his first stand-by hadn't come through, Jack sat staring at his newspaper, his eyes glazed. He'd shopped, had a bite to eat and was now just waiting.

And thinking.

Thinking about Samantha, what he'd done, and what he'd said earlier that terrible morning. Sneaking out in the afternoon was not his usual way of handling things either. But he couldn't really face another fight. Not with Samantha. He never wanted to experience that again.

Knowing he was in the wrong, he was still ashamed; he just didn't know how to fix it. Once words were said, you could never take them back. They'd spent a wonderful night together and he'd ruined it.

Maybe an email would suffice. A spineless, modern way to say sorry. Or maybe he could send something by courier; he already had something in mind. A phone call would be better -maybe when he was back in the office on Monday. Maybe all three. He doubted she'd speak to him right now anyway, and she had every right not to.

He was the architect of his own misery, and he did not like it at all.

Just as he pointlessly turned the page of his paper, Jack caught a glimpse of Samantha as she entered the terminal. He watched as she halted in front of the departure board and scanned it closely. Admitting his surprise to himself, he wondered if he should just stay where he was. She was obviously there to find him, and knowing her, it would only be a matter of time. He wondered for a brief moment if he should get up, so she could spot him, or stay where he was. He hesitated. She was still angry –her body language told him that. This personal appearance of hers was not going to be a good thing.

The newspaper made a good cover to hide behind. Slowly, he slunk lower in his seat.

This tactic proved successful for only a few minutes. Then the paper was pushed forcibly away by Samantha's hand. She always could recognize him a mile away.

"Didn't I deserve a good bye?" she demanded, eyes flaming.

"I didn't think you wanted one," Jack threw back at her.

She didn't reply to that, but her eyes dimmed a fraction.

They stared at each other. Then Samantha folded her arms; Jack, his newspaper.

He gave in, sighing wearily. This was just what he'd been trying to avoid. "Delayed flights, overbooked, stand-bys -maybe I'm not meant to leave," he said, trying to put on a light tone.

Nodding her head to effectively feign her innocence, she asked, "What flight are you on?" As if she hadn't know the answer already.

"I managed a ten o'clock, but I'm on stand-by for the flights before then."

The hell you are. Samantha hadn't been afraid to use her FBI badge to make sure Jack wouldn't get on any stand-bys. She'd made sure his name was so far down the lists he might as well give up. She hadn't manipulated any flight schedules -she had just made sure he wouldn't be leaving until she'd finished with him. Letting him go on the rescheduled ten p.m. flight was giving her time. She'd grinned when she'd hung up from talking to the airline. Sometimes the job had its perks.

She looked around the busy terminal. "Come on," she said in a commanding tone. "Let's go."

Jack stood. Might as well get this painful matter over with. "Where do you want to go?" he asked, thinking maybe one of the airport bars. Hopefully somewhere public that might make them keep their voices down.

Samantha had guessed he might want that and had made her own plan. "I know a place… You left your number with the ticketing counter?" As if you'll need it.

"Just in case."

"Come on then," and she began to walk towards the entrance.

Jack frowned, intrigued as to what she was up to this time. He took one last glance at the departure board, then followed her out into the car park, trundling his suitcase behind him.

He knew resisting would be a waste of time.

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