xxxxx
chapter forty
xxxxx
you've got a journey to make
there's your horizon to chase
so go far beyond where we stand
no matter the distance
i'm holding your hand
-Vienna Teng, "Harbor"
xx
September 3, 2003
Washington DC
10:25 am
"Martin!"
Turning on his heels, Martin scanned the crowded hallways of the Capitol building. His eyes scanned the crowds until they landed on the voice's owner, landing on the tall, lanky, well-dressed form of Joseph DeWitt, the forty-something Junior Senator from Wisconsin. Political disagreements aside, Joseph was one of his fellow Senators whom he actually respected as a person. Martin smiled and waited for Joseph to catch up.
"Hey," Joseph said, falling into step beside him. "I hear you had an interesting weekend."
Martin shrugged his shoulders casually and replied, "It was nice to get away and spend some time with the family."
Joseph turned and smirked at him. "From what I heard, it wasn't just your family you were spending time with."
Martin turned to eye his colleague suspiciously and said, "I guess you heard right, then."
The two men made their way through one set of large, heavy double doors and out onto the steps of the Capitol Building. The warm early fall air blew against Martin's face as they made their way through crowds of tourists and school groups and their fellow elected officers, stopping at the foot of the steps as Colin Adair motioned over to them.
"Martin, Joseph." Colin greeted with a nod of his head. "Good morning."
Martin and Joseph both returned his greeting easily, and the three men lingered in the late morning sunlight. They began to engage in discussion on the status of the Special Committee on Domestic Terrorism, casually debating the pros and cons of the legislature that had been presented by the committee during the just-ended morning session.
"So," Joseph said, crossing his arms as the friendly debate drew to a close. "When are we going to hear about this mystery woman, Martin?"
"She's not really a mystery woman." Colin gestured with his hands before folding his arms across his chest. "I remember her from Delia Rivers' memorial service. She works for the Bureau, right? She's on Malone's team."
Martin bit his lower lip to fight back a full-on grin, chuckling silently that both of his normally well-informed colleagues had yet to read the papers to find out about his relationship with this "mystery woman." He cocked his eyebrows at his friends and said, "Her name is Samantha, and yes, she's on Jack Malone's team." He paused momentarily to take in the expressions on their faces, their curiosity obviously showing, and added, "We've been seeing each other for about five months now."
"So she lives in New York, then?" Joseph inquired, peering from Martin to Colin and back again. Martin nodded, and Joseph gave him a sympathetic smile. "It must be difficult managing your relationship when you live so far away from each other."
Martin smiled back. Joseph's wife and two sons lived back in Milwaukee because she did not want to raise them exposed to the lifestyle of being a politician's children growing up in Washington DC, and Joseph had made comments on several occasions as to how lonely he found life away from his family to be. They had commiserated in the past when they found themselves as the only men to show up stag to social functions. "It's not easy, but we're finding a way to make it work." Martin paused for a moment as a thought crossed his mind. He tilted his head to one side and caught Joseph's eyes. "Hey... have you ever been to Kenosha?"
Joseph frowned in confusion and replied, "Not since I was campaigning four years ago. It's not exactly a booming metropolis... Why?"
"No reason." Martin said, in a tone that he hoped was convincing. As he took in Joseph's reaction to his sudden question, however, he got the idea that maybe Sam wasn't completely overreacting when she had voiced her premonitions the night before.
xx
Martin's knee bounced uncontrollably as he sat on Sam's sofa waiting for her to finish getting ready. He shook his head and smiled at the idea that Sam was worried about getting ready for a date that they had mutually agreed would be 'casual' but decided it was better not to tease her about it.
The door from her bedroom creaked open and she stepped out. "Martin?" She said questioningly. "You said you wanted to be ready a little on the early side?"
"Yeah." He was breathless as he took in the sight of her. She had changed out of her work attire and into jeans and a light form-fitting sweater: it was simple and casual and that meant the world to him.
"What is it?"
She looked worried, and he motioned for her to come and sit beside him on the sofa. "Nothing, nothing," he reassured her. "It's just... you."
Sam nervously tucked some loose hair behind her ear, and the cushion to his left dipped as she sat. He shifted to look at her and said, "Rick brought a few things up earlier today, and I wanted to get your honest opinion about it before I give him a definite answer."
Confusion crossed her face as she furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"It's just..." Martin sighed and inhaled deeply. He could not find the exact words to explain the reason for his extreme nervousness, but deep down there was a part of him that feared her reaction. He fought the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the gnawing sensation that the second he broached the subject Sam would run without a backward glance, and said, "We really caught people's attention this weekend, given that it was Labor Day weekend and it's a known thing that my family takes this annual vacation. The local papers and magazines, well, they're asking about you. About us."
Sam shut her eyes, tension evident on her face. When she opened her eyes again, she spoke in a subdued tone that seemed very unlike her. "What could they possibly want to know about me?"
"Hey," he soothed, cautiously reaching out to draw her in closer to him. "I happen to find you pretty interesting myself," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. When that did not seem to work, he continued, "They just want a statement or two, they want to know something about us. Unfortunately, this isn't something that's going to go away; the press and the media, they're constantly a part of my life. I don't like it any more than you do."
"At least you got to choose," she snapped, looking away as her entire body tensed up.
"Well, I guess you have a choice now, too." He replied in an equally irritated tone and instantly regretted it when he saw the hurt etched across her face. He took a deep breath and gathered himself. "I'm sorry," he smiled weakly, offering his hand apologetically. "I know this isn't easy."
"I am too," she said softly. "I didn't mean it like that. I just... I know I should have been expecting this, but I guess I wasn't as ready for it as I thought."
"It's alright," he reassured her. "It's not exactly something that you can ever be 'ready' for; it just happens and then you deal with it. So we'll deal with it together -- I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to."
"I know." She smiled weakly back at him. "So... what exactly do they want to know? And what are we supposed to tell them?"
"Well, the general public is full of busybodies. I would assume they want to know absolutely everything. The key is, though, we find things to tell them that will satisfy their interest while at the same time keeping as much of our sanity and privacy intact as possible."
"Like what?"
"Oh, my guess would be that for now your name, age, the fact that you work for the FBI, and that we met at a social function and have been seeing each other for about five months ought to do the trick." He ticked off on each of his fingers as he spoke, then folded his hands emphatically in his lap. He broke into a smile as she laughed at his display.
"You sound like you know what you're talking about," she remarked. "You sure you really have never done this before?"
"Well, I have. Not with any girlfriends or anything, but it's the same protocol for essentially any significant happening in my life." He explained quickly.
"Oh, okay." She nodded in assent, but still seemed hesitant.
He ran a hand gently across the side of her face. "What is it?"
Sam lowered her eyes and softly said, "I'm still not sure. I mean, when the public finds out that I'm a small town girl from Kenosha, Wisconsin, I'm afraid they're going to paint me out to be something that I'm not. Don't get me wrong, but I'm not exactly thrilled at the prospect of being the poor girl with lousy parents who got swept off her feet." She paused for a beat, and continued, "And even though your parents and I have gotten along thus far, I'm sure your father isn't going to want the whole world to know that not only am I not from a high society family, but that I'm from the middle of nowhere."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Martin could not help but laugh out loud at her insinuations. "Now you are reading way too much into this." He took hold of her hand and steadied her against his side. "I highly doubt it's going to get that far, at least not in any reputable media outlet. My advisors and publicists do a great job, and they would stop things before they got out of hand. And furthermore, I don't anticipate my parents being a problem. My mother adores you and is already bugging me to bring you over for dinner the next time you're in the DC area, and my father - for all of his shortcomings - will likely defer back to Mom on this. He thinks you're a great agent, and my guess is that's enough for him."
"Okay." Sam said with a definitive nod of her head. "Whatever you and Rick think is best is fine with me. You know this better than I do, and I trust your judgment."
He rose from the sofa and held his hands out for her. She rose as well, falling easily into his embrace as she returned his kiss. He took one look at his watch and said, "We have reservations." before leaning down to kiss her again.
She pulled away, looking up at him through deep brown eyes, and smiled. "What now?"
He tugged her towards the door of her apartment, holding it open for her as they made their way out into her hallway and to the elevator. "Nothing at all," he said. "It's just being here with you. You make me feel like a real person again; I'd forgotten how nice it feels."
xxxxx
