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chapter one

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but i don't have a hold on what is real
though we can only try
what is there to give or to believe?

i wanted a change, knowing all i could do was try
i was looking for someone
--Sarah McLachlan, "Lost"

xx

March 22, 2003
7:35 am

The Saturday morning of the memorial service dawned, rainy and dull.

Well, Martin thought, at least I don't think it can get any more cliché than this.

He stood by the window in the kitchen of his sister's home just outside the city, choosing to look out over the backyard where it was easier to ignore the Secret Service Agents who had become his constant companions. As much as he was dreading the service itself, he was glad he'd had the chance to get away this weekend. It hadn't been a trip anyone had been able to foresee, which meant the entire weekend bar the services this afternoon would be free for him to spend with his sister, his cousins, and their families.

"Anybody home in there?"

His older sister wrapped her robe tightly around herself as she called out in greeting, padding softly down the stairs.

"Morning, Caro. Are the little monsters still asleep?"

"Comatose, just like their daddy." Martin smiled. Tim and Caroline had met in medical school, and he had easily fit right into the family. He was now an attending in the Neonatal ICU at the same hospital where Caroline worked in the emergency room, and their daughters, Kelsey and Bridget, were now ages four and two respectively.

"What time did Tim get in last night?"

"I think around 1:00. Bridge woke up at 1:30 and needed to be changed, and I found him passed out in bed next to me. We're just lucky he didn't get called out again --"

Caroline didn't even try to stifle the yawn that escaped her lips as she joined her him in the kitchen, making a bee-line for the coffee pot.

"I can't believe they're still asleep," he exclaimed. His two nieces were nothing if not rambunctious and early risers.

"Well, someone got held up by the press on their way here last night, and they insisted on waiting up until Uncle Marty got here, you know."

"They remind me so much of you and Becca when we were younger," he said, remembering how the two girls and been knee-deep scheming over a dress up bin when he had finally arrived the night before. Caroline was six years his senior, Rebecca just two years younger, and they had always been united by the common goal of tormenting their baby brother.

"Yeah, well, Becca and I did what we could." She paused to refill her coffee mug before joining him by the window. "Marty," she turned to look at him. "I want you to know that no matter how big and important you are - and how many Secret Service Agents you need - you will always, always be the boy who taped his Star Trek marathon over my favorite episodes of Laverne and Shirley."

Martin grinned back sheepishly, glad that some things would never change.

xx

10:20 am

"Samantha?"

She registered the voice as a male's, but was still far too groggy to register its owner. She groaned.

"Samantha!"

The voice was louder, more insistent, and it was not helping her headache.

"Your phone, Samantha!"

Shit. Her hands fumbled across the nightstand, searching for her cell phone.

"Spade," she mumbled into the mouthpiece.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Where the hell are you?" Naomi's voice greeted her.

"We don't have a case, do we? I thought Jack was going to get a team from VCU to cover call so we could all be there?"

"No, no. I was just out on a run and I passed by your place and you didn't answer. I wanted to make sure you weren't passed out in the bathroom or something --"

"Cute, but yeah, I'm fine. Just a headache. I told you, I can drink you under the table."

"So you've mentioned, Sam. So, I'm going to ask you again, where are you?"

Come on, Naomi, you know where I am. Details of the night before were coming back in pieces, and she was absolutely certain Naomi had seen exactly who she'd left with.

"Nice try, Russell. I'll see you later."

She snapped her phone shut without another word, heaving a sigh. She rubbed her temple, vowing that she would keep her barhopping activities to every other night at a minimum. The past two nights must be taking their toll on her liver.

Danny and Naomi really should hook up, she mused. If she can't get him in line, he's a lost cause.

"Samantha?" A voice she now knew as Eric Kellar's interrupted her thought process. She wrapped the sheet tighter around her naked chest, gratefully accepting the coffee he offered her. "This should help with the headache --"

"Thanks," she replied.

"You're going to the memorial service this afternoon?"

"The team is going," she nodded. It was all the explanation she cared to offer.

"I hear it's going to be quite the affair. Apparently, Senators Adair and Fitzgerald are both going to be there."

She nodded, again. This was by far the longest morning after chat they've ever had.

"Yeah, I heard that too. I should, uh, probably get ready to go."

She wrapped herself in the sheet, gathering her clothes from where they lay strewn on the floor and excusing herself to go change in the bathroom.

She re-emerged just five minutes later in the process of pulling her hair back and out of her face. She had hoped he would have moved out into the kitchen in that time, but no such luck.

"Will I see you again tonight?" he asked, almost expectantly.

Her body tensed as she spoke, "I don't know, Eric. I don't know."

With that, she pulled her coat back on and left him staring in her wake.

Once she was in the hallway, she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Her headache, she realized as she boarded the elevator, wasn't entirely alcohol-related. Jack and Maria had been separated for maybe eight months now, and nothing had changed. And nothing is going to change, she told herself. This has to end, and it has to end now. This is the last time you let yourself get wound up over Jack Malone.

The elevator reached the ground floor, and she made her way out into the street and towards the subway station.

You're nearly thirty years old, she told herself. You cannot keep doing this to yourself.

Okay, admit it. You just don't want to get that 'look' from Naomi again.

At that, she laughed to herself and boarded the train heading back downtown.

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