A/N: Okay, I've been crying wolf. This is NOT the last chapter afterall! This story just keeps writing itself I swear. I was going to post a chapter a mile long, but thought better of it... Dear patient, wondeful Mariel -she's seen more versions of this chapter than is probably healthy and I've still thrown in some more tweaking. She's a star, she really is... Thanks also to Inken for being there, and thanks to all the thoughtful readers who have stuck with me and those who have taken the time to write reviews...So, on with the show...

Xx—

"You know kidnapping's a serious offence." Jack remarked, putting his suitcase and jacket by the hotel room door, in case he needed a quick getaway -possibly from Samantha.

"I think I've heard that before, today sometime…" Samantha voice trailed off as she headed directly for the mini-bar. After throwing her jacket on the bed, she selected whisky for him and bourbon for herself, and immediately set to mixing their drinks.

"You're pretty sure of yourself. You booked this… when?" he inquired, watching her open the small fridge, noting her small overnight bag by the bed.

"Does it really matter? I thought we needed some privacy, and the Marriott is not only handy to the airport but has special rates for government and military personnel," she rattled off, shooting him a glance in the mirror while taking ice out of a tray.

"Is that a fact?" Looking around the room, he hoped it was an extremely special rate. Much nicer than the one he'd been staying in.

"So the website and the helpful young man on reception said." She handed him his glass. "Drink," she ordered. She was in no mood to be trifled with.

He knocked back the entire whisky, ice cubes chinking. He hadn't sat down, and neither had she.

Looking levelly at her, he gestured with his glass. "Go for it."

Leaning against the counter, Samantha eyed him as she took a swig of her bourbon and coke. "I'm so pissed off at you right now I can hardly think straight," she admitted.

He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry."

"You're going to have to do better than that," she said, putting her glass down on the counter beside her.

"I know."

"You had no right to go off like that this morning. I deserve better."

"You certainly do."

"You forget. You chose to leave. You chose your family. You chose what you thought was for the best, and so did I," she reiterated with words from their morning fight.

Jack nodded, looking down at the ice cubes in his glass. "I know and I agree with you."

"You can't make me feel bad for trying to make a life. Trying to move forward…without you…" Voice softening, she moved closer to Jack as she spoke.

He reached out to touch her arm. "I've been acting like an idiot, I know. I'm so damn sorry I can't even find the proper words to say it. I hate fighting with you." Even more so than with Maria, to tell the truth. His eyes sought forgiveness from hers.

That look on his face -she could usually forgive him anything.

But not just yet.

"You have to apologise to Martin," she stated.

He blinked at that, and pulled back his hand, as if he'd been burnt. "The hell I will."

"You're being as unfair to him as you are to me, Jack. He may not have your respect anymore, but it's the least you can do for him." She put her hands on her hips to make her point.

"He's a guy -he'll live," Jack said, clenching his jaw, wanting someone else to blame in all this. He folded his arms defensively.

But Samantha was definitely standing her ground this time. After this morning, she knew what to expect. "Do it for me then, it's all I ask."

"No, damn it, I won't."

"What did you just say about acting like an idiot? Are you going for a personal record?"

"I don't care what he thinks about me anymore. He can go to hell for all I care."

Samantha noticed that although Jack was angry, he wasn't making any movement towards the door. She crossed the small distance between them. Laying a hand very gently on his chest, she emphasized her point. "If you can say sorry to me, you can say sorry to him."

They stared at each other.

Looking down into her striking eyes, he wondered what on earth he had been worried about. Suddenly it seemed a small thing she wanted him to do actually, and he really was man enough to handle it.

There was no point in being belligerent. There'd been enough of that today. Too much, and it had all been from him.

All this fighting was beginning to grind him down, and it was all so unnecessary.

Relenting, Jack covered her hand with his. "Okay… if that's what you want. I'll phone him Monday when I'm back. Does that meet with your approval?"

She rewarded him with a warm smile. One problem sorted. "I'd really appreciate that. I know Martin will too." I've really got to stop defending that jerk…

Jack returned the smile, feeling better, and relieved as well. "Anything to keep the peace for the team. You still have to work with him."

She looked at the hand on hers; his left hand. Needing to know, but half afraid to ask, she finally mustered the courage to say, "What was with the ring anyway? Last night you took it off…"

He looked down also. Ah, so she did notice. Holding up his hand, he flicked the loose ring with his thumb. "Well, it's a little too big after the weight I've lost; I need to re-size it."

Samantha looked disappointed. "Oh…" and she began to pull her hand and herself away.

"No, wait. It was more than that…" Reaching for her hand again and holding it firmly, he drew her close to him. "I wanted last night to be different. I wanted it to be special for you… just you and me and no ties." His thumb gently traced small circles on her hand. "I know you hated me wearing it when we were together, and taking it off…it was something I could do for you. I thought-" He paused, searching for the appropriate words, then continued, "I thought last night might be our last time, and-"

He stopped, remembering her wavering voice when she'd told him, 'I just would have liked one more night with you, as goodbye...'

Clearing his throat, he finished his thought quietly: "If it was going to be our last time, I wanted it to be with absolutely nothing between us."

"Was it our last night?"

He was thoughtful a moment. "I guess so," he said simply, as much as he didn't want it to be true.

Cautiously, Samantha asked, "So, that's the only reason then?"

"Well..." He released her hand. Looking for something to busy himself, he walked over to make himself another drink in the glass he still clutched. "This trip's made me realise a few things," he finally admitted.

That some things had been a lie.

Although his thoughts had been mainly occupied with Samantha and the case, resentment about Maria was always in the back of his mind. He'd realized that the first night he was back. Their phone calls, as well as lack of them, had made the state of their relationship fairly clear.

He should never have given in to Maria's wishes about the move; he should have played the macho male part and selfishly made them all stay in New York. Maria's job promotion had been at the expense and sacrifice of his soul.

Guilt had made him go to Chicago.

He had admitted to Samantha that they wouldn't have gotten together again if he had remained in New York, working at the department. But at least he would have been happier. Maria would still be unhappy with him whatever he chose to do. She was loving her new job; loving Chicago. He knew, realistically, that she didn't love him anymore. Care perhaps, but the love was gone. The words could quite easily describe himself. They'd drifted apart, for so many, many reasons; the cracking façade could only be repaired so many times before it became a useless exercise.

Distance had shown everything in a different light. He'd known what he'd needed to do all along, but it had taken this trip away to admit it.

Her breath caught in her throat, Samantha wasn't saying anything. She watched silently as he opened another small bottle.

With his attention firmly fixed on his glass on the counter, he said, "When I get back… I'm going to move out."

It wasn't the ideal solution for his family, maybe it hadn't been in the past either, when they had tried to work things out between them.

He was feeling as worn out as his marriage and he just didn't have the strength to fight anymore.

And he knew, in the back of his mind, that Maria had known returning to New York would affect him. The break had done him good, resolved some issues for him, but not what Maria would have wanted. Whether she suspected Samantha would have something to do with that, he wasn't sure. It didn't matter if she did.

At least moving out this time would be on his own terms.

Samantha breathed again. "Is this because of me?"

"Partly, but it's still not working. I needed this time away to figure it out," he said in a voice filled with resignation. Turning to face her at last, she could see that small frown of his again. "Being here has given me a lot to think about."

She knew it wasn't an easy decision for him to make. At least he'd told her in advance this time and hadn't waited for months after the fact to let her know -and he didn't have that damn desk to hide behind this time, either.

Knowing the answer, she still felt she had to clarify: "You'll be staying in Chicago?"

Nodding, he knew he was breaking her heart yet again. "I have to be near my girls," he explained. "And my father… plus I don't think Viv would be likely to give me back my job somehow, not after all this time…"

He watched as Samantha walked over to the bed and sat heavily on its edge.

He knew she would want him back in New York but some things, no matter how much you wanted them, just couldn't happen.

Wouldn't happen.

At least Maria would be pleased about that bitter victory.

Now it looks like he's going to be free and he's miles away... "Is that really why you took your ring off? A practice run?" Samantha asked in a flat voice.

"No… Like I said, I did that for you." In spite of the situation, a small smile crept over Jack's lips as something came to mind. "Come to think about it, I won't have to re-size it now." But the smile vanished when he saw her face.

"Yeah -great," Samantha said distractedly, lost in her own thoughts. She had been furious with him, and now she felt drained. She didn't know what she'd expected from him, but she certainly hadn't thought he'd tell her he was leaving Maria.

He had always been good at surprising her.

She looked at him, feeling at a loss. She'd said what she'd wanted to and done what she'd planned after he left in the afternoon.

Now what?

In a hushed voice, she said, "It's always been you, Jack –was… is… will be… you know it, and I just don't know what the hell to do about it."

Jack could only look back at her. "Neither do I," he said, in a soft voice tinged with sadness.

The room got very quiet.

"I'm sorry Sam. I know it's not quite what you - or I - want as a happy ending, is it?"

Studying the carpet, Samantha shrugged in a small way. "It wasn't when you left before, either… Maybe you should have let her go to Chicago with the girls and stayed here."

Jack firmly shook his head. "That was never going to happen." He knew he wouldn't be able to handle not having the girls around. "And I can't see you or I flying backwards and forwards across the country on free weekends to see each other, as much as we'd like to."

Inside his head, he desperately wanted to ask her to move to Chicago to be with him.

Come with me…

But, seeing the idea as irrational and rather selfish, he shoved it aside. She'd say no anyway, and she had every right to.

Agreeing about the frequent flying, Samantha nodded. The ticket price took care of that.

"You okay?"

She looked up at him.

What could she expect? What did she expect?

"I've been worse." The time they'd had together during this trip, for good and bad, had be seen as a kind of bonus. She supposed it was something to be grateful for, grasping for some sort of reasoning. Any sort would help.

She kept her eyes on him. Ask me to come with you. The idea jumped, without warning, into her thoughts. Just ask me...

To distract himself from her gaze, Jack looked at his watch. Nearly six forty-five. So much for stand-bys. He couldn't leave her now, even if they did call for him.

Suddenly remembering he had something for her, he reached into his shirt pocket. "Here," he said. Going over to her, he put a little navy blue drawstring pouch in her hand. It was stamped Dawson's, the Jewellers in silver.

Samantha stirred herself. "What is it?"

"A little something I picked up for you."

"When did you...?" Samantha tried to think when he could have returned there.

"At the parking garage, while Laurel and Hardy were searching for Emerson's car on the tape. It wasn't far. Keith was very helpful. Seemed to know who I was buying it for."

Samantha managed a slight smile. "I bet." She opened the pouch and a small pearl rolled out, capped in gold, with a small diamond set in the bail.

"I thought you might like something to go on your chain. Let me put it on for you," he gestured towards the mirror by the counter.

She got up from the bed and walked over; pulling her hair aside so Jack could remove the chain.

"Keith has made me promise to tell you not to spray hairspray or perfume on the pearl," he informed her, taking the pearl from her hand. He threaded it onto the chain, and put it back around Samantha's neck. His hands lingered definitely longer than they needed to, brushing against her warm skin. He sensed a slight shiver at his touch, and smiled.

She let her hair fall and he gently fanned it out. Holding her shoulders, he looked at their reflection in the mirror, and then gradually let his fingers wander down the chain to center the pearl. "Beautiful," he said softly, catching her eyes.

Watching his reflection looking at her, Samantha blushed slightly at the attention. "It's lovely, Jack. Thank you," she whispered. She watched as he gently trailed his fingers upwards, over her collarbone, her neck, along her jaw, then he lightly caressed the back of his hand across her cheek.

"Oh, Jack…" He would stop if she wanted him to, she knew that.

But she didn't want to.

Absolutely not.

Some things still needed to be resolved.

His mouth was by her ear; his left hand had snuck around her waist. "Let me make it up to you, Sam…" he whispered huskily.

Sometimes words just weren't enough.

Sometimes, having justified doing this before, it was easy to justify it again.

Yes, he was leaving her once more.

Yes, they would both have to live with the emotional aftermath -again.

And Jack, having voiced his decision, felt a kind of freedom he'd never really experienced before.

"You'll stay for a few more hours," she confirmed, whispering back.

"The 10 p.m. flight will be fine…" As his lips found her neck, she found herself surrendering easily.

No internal rationalization was needed this time for either of them.

Her left hand sought out his. She watched herself find his third finger and easily tug off his wedding band. Loose indeed. Practically lost in her scent and keeping one bemused eye on what she was doing, Jack continued his neck exploration. She leaned forward, placed the ring on the counter and flicked it easily to one side; it landed against the empty mini-bottles, far enough away to ignore.

Gently, Jack pulled her back firmly against him. "Better?" he asked, his hands seeking her shirt buttons, as she reached her hands up and behind to find the back of his neck and hair.

"Oh, definitely," she replied, watching him deftly undoing her shirt, enjoying the sight of his hands undressing her, his hands gliding purposefully across her breasts and skin. She could shut her eyes, revel in the feel of his touch, but the desire to watch was greater.

After her shirt was shrugged off, she turned her head to steal a hungry kiss from him. He broke away, wanting to continue his mission and set to work on the difficult task of removing her jeans. She helped in a small way by kicking off her shoes.

Then there she was.

Clad only in bra, panties and Jack's strong arms.

A fully clothed Jack.

"Now this really isn't fair..." she said, indicating their mirror image.

"Well, it's going to get a lot worse..." Jack murmured, hooking his thumbs into her panties' sides and pulling them down.

Samantha laughed. "You are so going to pay for this..."

If she'd never heard Jack Malone snigger before, she did now as he unfastened her bra. "I'll be kind; you can keep the chain on."

That was something, she thought, watching as he skilfully removed her last piece of clothing. She leaned back into him, looking at their reflection. His dark eyes were concentrating more on her face than her naked body. She felt exposed, but incredibly safe. It was always like that with him.

His left hand cupped her breast firmly, while his right hand slowly crept down her stomach.

Lower and lower.

While happy with the destination sought, Samantha decided to bring some equality to the situation. She turned in his arms, ardently seeking a kiss. Jack's hands roamed over her back and beyond, feeling her naked body pressed against his clothed one.

He had to remind himself that he only had a couple of hours.

Locked in the kiss and the embrace, he slowly walked her backwards the few feet to the bed, and laid her gently down. He knelt over her, one leg between her thighs.

"So…" he said, slowly undoing his top shirt button.

"Mmm?"

Samantha knew he was torturing her just as she'd tortured him the previous night.

"You said I'd pay for this."

Excruciatingly, the second button was undone.

"Yes?" she breathed, mesmerized by his actions.

That third button was taking far too long.

"You want to show me how much?"

Desperately aching for him, she couldn't drag him down on her fast enough.

Xx—

Samantha hadn't moved since she had collapsed, exhausted, on Jack. Her hair was lying in tendrils across his chest and shoulders, and finally recovering, she turned her head to gaze at him. His eyes were closed, his face serene, one hand tenderly stroking her back, the other resting behind his head. A sated man.

"Jack… I want to ask you something…"

"Anything."

"Did you ever stop loving me?"

The stroking slowed and his eyes opened as he thought, concentrating on the ceiling.

He'd never said he loved her.

Ever.

She'd said it to him, late one night, before he'd left to go home. He'd been at a loss, not wanting to commit his feelings at that stage.

When he'd wanted to say it, it had been too late. He'd known that that time in his office, that Christmas when he'd given her the chain.

But she'd always known he had.

He'd just never said the words out loud.

God knows he'd fought it, buried it deeply inside him, especially when he was doing his best for his family. But it hadn't gone away. He realised that was why the idea of Martin grated so hard. He tilted his head to look at her.

"No, I never stopped… I always have."

"Will you tell me now?"

He ran a finger down her cheek. "I love you, Sam."

She sighed happily and crept up to kiss him. "I love you right back," she whispered.

Xx—

Jack finished the phone call at 8.23 p.m. Perched on the edge of the bed, he was staring at his cell phone in disbelief when Samantha returned from the bathroom.

"What did the airline say?" asked Samantha, lying beside him.

He shook his head, incredulous. "I swear there's a conspiracy to keep me here in New York."

That's it, he knows what I did, and I'm going to hell. "Why's that?"

He ruffled his hair. "It seems my flight is now delayed until 11.15, which means I won't get back to the house until way after 2 a.m. And then they asked me to give my seat to someone else as the delays are causing all sorts of problems; I can get the 6 a.m. tomorrow if I want." Clearly irritated, he swung his legs back onto the bed and lay down, putting the phone down hard on the side table.

Relieved and genuinely innocent in this case, Samantha asked, "So, you're still taking the flight tonight, then." Of course he is.

There was a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, I didn't say that exactly, did I?"

"You're staying the night?"

"If you don't mind an early start."

"Another night…" Her eyes glinted at the possibilities.

"Just one thing, though…" he said, rolling over to face her.

Delighted at the news, she looked at him.

"I'm only human, Sam –could we just…"

She raised her eyebrows.

"You know… hold each other tonight?"

She couldn't have adored him more.

Xx—