Author's Note: I know I'm in the middle of another story, and that this doesn't even have a coherent plot, and is kind of random, but I doubt many people will read it anyway. It's my indie fic, I guess you could say. Haha. Anyway, I might continue this for a few chapters, or might not. Enjoy.

We're in a gridlock

Stuck in stalemate

Some sort of twisted impasse

But don't you love the security of going nowhere?

Vivian left first, as she always did, to get home to her kids, then Elena. By the time Jack decided to order appetizers, Danny had already reached for his coat and was beginning to make his apologies. The entire team looked as if it were ready to collapse from exhaustion and almost a week with virtually no sleep. Martin looked to his left where Samantha sat, staring blankly out the window next to hem and stirring her coffee with a fork. He whispered something in her ear, and she stirred reluctantly, nodding and arguing in a faint, weary tone.

Danny glanced across the booth to where Jack sat with his arm over the back of the ripped-leather seat. He felt a surge of pity for his boss. He knew Jack hadn't seen his kids in several months and had been living in a virtually empty apartment kept dark and lifeless by the absence of his family. Danny patted the middle-aged man's arm and grinned encouragingly.

"All right, boss, I'm heading out," he yawned and Jack smiled, shaking his hand.

"Nice work this week, Danny. Proud of you." Danny nodded at his superior and stood up. "You takin' the train back into the city or headin' to a Best Western?"

"Naah, I'm probably gonna throw myself on the next train pulling out of Harrison," Danny shrugged, and Samantha looked up at him as Martin put his arm around her shoulder. "As tempting as pushing the Federal Budget may be..." He saluted them all before shrugging into his leather jacket. "See you all Monday morning."

"Take it easy," someone called, but Danny couldn't tell whom.

A waitress moved over to them, favoring her right hip slightly and wincing at every other step. "Anybody want more coffee?"

"I'll take some," Jack answered, holding out his cup. "Martin? Sam---antha?" Samantha glanced up abruptly at the uncommon slip Jack had almost made. Her eyes locked with his before she put out her mug for a refill. Martin, unawares, shook his head.

"We should get going," he sighed, rubbing Samantha's shoulder gently. She nodded, her head lulling to the side. "Do you want me to drive?"

"Yeah," she murmured, sipping her coffee. He was ready to go, she could tell. "Hey, why don't you pull the car around and I'll be out when I get a to-go mug from---from..." she broke off as a yawn she'd been struggling to suppress loosed itself. Martin nodded and slid out of the booth. Samantha's eyes slid from Martin's now unoccupied seat to the man across from her, who watched her with half-open eyes, a unlaughing smile, and a strangely appealing shadow growing along his jawline.

She slid her hand to the center of the table to where his lay, palm up, fingers open and relaxed. She stopped when her pinky and his thumb barely touched. Samantha looked up. "Please get some rest," she whispered.

"Yeah," Jack coughed. Her eyes fell to the unbuttoned top of his white shirt where they lingered, stuck. "Hey." No response. "Samantha."

"Huh?"

"Martin's out front," he forced his face to remain as a smooth shield. Her hand withdrew, the connection broken.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping more than they had moments ago, and collected her coat and scarf. Not looking up, she slid out of the semi-circle booth and stumbled by the table. At the last moment, Jack caught her arm with the hand that had been draped over the booth. She halted and glanced from her captured arm to his eyes. The drowsiness had drained from both pairs of eyes. After a second, his grip loosened, and he simply forced his gaze to remain focused on her eyes. "We can't keep doing this."

"I know," she whispered.

"Don't go with him." Her breath shot out from her in a muffled cry and she smiled away from his eyes. "Stay."

"Please, Jack..." Samantha sniffed helplessly. "I can't." He watched her for another second before standing up suddenly and pulling her out of the way of the window where there was a dividing patch of solid wall.

She sucked in her breath as he kissed her, holding her close to him by her wrists. Neither of them cared about the several sets of eyes watching them behind the cash register. She didn't resist, but she wouldn't give in, either. Finally, he released her mouth.

Her eyes were watery with tears and tiredness. "Sam." She shook her head and looked away. "Sam, look at me." He pushed her chin up with his finger so that she faced him.

It was the name that drove it home, both of them knew. It was the name of her vulnerability, of her trust in him. He was the only one who could say it...say it right. Martin said it once, and she flinched. Danny yelled it when she left her purse in the cab they'd shared, and from his lips, it was embarrassing and made her blush. But, Jack...

Her eyes slid to the left and saw Martin's figure approaching in the distance. She released herself from Jack's grip and straightened her messy, blonde hair. "I have to go." She slid out of his arms like water and then was gone. He stood there, facing the wall for a moment more, until he heard the car door slam and the wheels pull out of cracked and gravelly pavement.

Jack turned around. "How much do I owe?" He asked. A tiny waitress a little older than he ruffled her feathers in a dreamlike state as if she had just been watching the soaps.

"It's on the house," she breathed wonderously. He tossed four dollars onto his table, grabbed his coat, and slumped off into the foggy, Newark midnight.