"You have a degree in criminal justice."

The investigative committee was comprised of three agents, two of them in their late fifties and a third who looked like he should still be in college. They were towering on one side of the table; Sam was sitting on the other. With stern faces, they seemed to register every minute reaction. "Did you ever find a conflict of conscience considering your past involvement in criminal activities?"

Sam didn't know what to say. She could answer questions about what had happened. Those were the easy questions. But by now, the internal investigation had moved into a territory she was decidedly uncomfortable with.

"Please answer the questions, Agent Spade," the investigator prompted her.

"I think, I never really thought about it…" Sam started.

"That was somewhat short-sighted. You were prepared to lie about your past."

"I didn't have any knowing involvement in any criminal activities."

"That was confirmed by the lie detector test, which you passed. But you should know that ignorance is no protection from the law. You might not have had intent, but you were an accessory," The chair of the committee paused. "However it is not for this committee to engage in criminal prosecution. That will be handled by the district attorney. However we are trying to determine if your involvement had any effect on your service to the Bureau. "

"The fact that you were involved in the investigation regarding the disappearance of your former husband is strictly against FBI protocol. However, Agent Malone informed us that you let him know of your personal involvement in the case and he simply chose not to act on it."

"I should have insisted on being taken off the case." The last thing Sam wanted was Jack being dragged into this mess. Enough lives had been ruined over what had ultimately been a stupid mistake that had gone terribly wrong. Sam couldn't forget that people had died needlessly and she would take responsibility for her part in the events.

oOo

Sam hated funerals, but she had wanted to attend Ryan's. The internal investigation was still in full swing, but she was suspended for the moment, leaving her more time to think than she preferred.

Even the weather seemed to feel the grief and dread of those in attendance. Rain was falling in sheets from the lead grey sky, soaking the grass and turning it into a muddy mess. The air inside the church had been so heavy with dampness that she could feel sheen of water on her skin and on her clothes.

After being inside where it was hot and humid, the outside world seemed even more unforgiving. The priest's empty words were being drowned out by the rain. The few attendees braved the rain. Sam knew almost all of them. There was Chandra Kensington, and an elderly couple who Sam presumed to be Ryan's grand-parents. At first she hadn't recognized the figure that kept her distance from the ongoing funeral, hiding beneath her huge umbrella. Her stiff movements had made her curious about the woman in the first place, then, stealing a furtive glance, she had recognized Megan. When Megan noticed her looking, she quickly turned and headed towards the exit.

Sam jogged to catch up with Megan.

"Stop," she called out. "Please, stop. We need to talk," Sam called out. Megan stopped and Sam sidled up to her.

"What do you want?" Megan asked suspiciously. After what had happened at the cabin, Sam was not surprised that the trust between them had been shattered. She wasn't sure there was a way to leave the past behind them, but there were a few things she needed to say and she didn't care if Megan didn't want to listen.

"I want to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about. You probably want me to say how sorry I am for what happened, but I'm not. You got yourself into this on your own."

"I didn't come for an apology. I came as friend. I wanted to visit you at the hospital, but you were already gone."

"You could have called," Megan remarked sharply.

"Yes, I guess I could have," Sam admitted. "But I wanted to talk to you in person."

Megan nodded. "I heard you are not pressing charges. That's...very kind of you. You would have had the right."

"I didn't think it would do either of us any good. We both made mistakes in the past."

"Some of us more than others," Megan replied quietly. Without exchanging further words, the two women left the cemetery and walked into the parking lot.

"Are you all right?" Sam asked when Megan remained standing in front of her car and made no movement to unlock the doors.

"I was just thinking that I will have to sell it," Megan replied. "Well, who really needs a car in the city? It's just a convenience that you get used to."

"Why? What is happening?" Sam asked, taken aback.

"The lawsuit. Ryan's family is suing. They are seeking compensation for the mental stress caused by the unsolved disappearance of their son. They are arguing that by not reporting the murder, I put them through unnecessary pain."

"Do you have a lawyer?" Sam asked.

"No. But I know a few. Someone agree to take the case. But most of the lawyers I know specialize in criminal law and civil law." Megan shrugged sadly.

"I might know someone. No guarantees that she will take your case, but you could give her a call. Jeanne Cooper." Sam pulled out her note pad and scribbled down the lawyer's name and phone number-

"She does mostly victim's advocacy," Sam explained and handed Megan the paper.

"Victim's advocacy? I doubt she would be interested in taking my case. As far as anyone is concerned, Ryan and all the people in the bank are the real victims. Maybe even you. Clyde more or less tricked you into the whole thing, but I knew what I was doing was wrong. I'm not a victim." Megan shook her head.

"Just promise me you'll give her a call. Tell her your story and see what she says," Sam said intently.

"All right. Thank you, Sam."

oOo

Sam was trying to ignore the phone and her answering machine. Martin had already called twice and it was only lunchtime. Without work to occupy the majority of her time, Sam felt adrift and without purpose. Work and ambition had filled her live for the past ten years. She had no idea what she was going to do if her career came to an end.

If Martin was calling, it meant that he knew about everything. After what had happened in the cabin, everything had had to come out. She hadn't spoken to any of her co-workers since the day at the cabin. Jack had driven her home and while she had really appreciated his kindness, Sam didn't know what to say, even to Jack. Their relationship seemed to have become so complicated. Sam wished they could just start over again, but she knew it was an idle thought. Jack was married; he had two still relatively small daughters and a career at the FBI. She didn't figure into that picture.

A knock at the door tore Sam from her dark thoughts. For a moment she hesitated and thought about ignoring the visitor, but she knew she couldn't hide from the world forever. It wasn't her style to dwell and while looking forwards had been hard to do in the past two weeks with everything being stirred up, life did go on, she reminded herself.

Sam was surprised when she opened the door and found Jack standing there with two containers of Chinese take-out in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

"Jack. Come in." She felt insecure and uncomfortable. "I really didn't expect you."

"I hear that congratulations are in order." Jack beamed brightly at her.

"What? I thought the committee wouldn't reach a decision before the end of the week."

"I only heard it from Van Doran; the final report is still out." Jack followed her into the apartment and handed Sam the flowers.

"That's great news. What exactly did they say?" Sam asked while she put the flowers away. "Thanks for the flowers, by the way."

"I don't know everything, but it looks like you will be off with a reprimand, at least as far as the FBI internal investigation is concerned. The DA is another matter, but I think it will be all right," Jack told her. "They will probably go after Megan, but she might be able to work out a deal if she comes clean about the robbery. Rodnina and the others will be charged with murder."

"How do you know?"

"I have my sources." Jack gave a sly smile.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, remembering the questions of the committee.

"I have survived worse." Jack shrugged. "Chinese?"

"Please." Sam took one of the boxes and settled down on the couch. The hearty smell of the food reminded her how hungry she was. The past few days, she had hardly eaten at all, but now that the weight of worry was lifting from her shoulder, the knot in her stomach had disappeared.

"Jack, I really appreciate all that you have done for me, but there is something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?" Jack asked, instantly worried.

"I have been thinking a lot these last few days. I realized that what I came to the Bureau for doesn't mean as much to me any more. I think it is time I got out."

"Sam, you can't just throw everything away. The investigation will be sorted out soon and you'll be back to work in no time."

They ate in silence for a few minutes until Sam paused, setting down her food on the table in front of the couch.

"Jack, I have been thinking, I do appreciate everything you have done for me these last few days, but I don't think I'll be going back to work at the Bureau," Sam said, not quite able to look him in the eye.

"Why, Sam?"

"It just isn't fun anymore." Sam gave a half-smile. "I have come to realize that the reason I came to the Bureau was never because I really wanted it; all I wanted was to escape my past. I worked so hard to turn my life around, but I was running away the entire time."

"Are you sure? You have been through a lot recently. Maybe you need a break. I'm sure I can arrange for some time off. Take a nice vacation somewhere warm and sunny," Jack said with false cheerfulness. He could tell from Sam's tone and the grave expression on her face that she had put some serious thought in what she was saying.

"No, I have thought about this and I'm sure," Sam replied with more confidence than she really felt.

"And this has nothing to do with the two of us?"

"Not everything is about you, Jack," Sam replied jokingly. "I thought there wasn't an 'us' anymore as far as you were concerned."

"I don't know. I really don't know at the moment. I never stopped having feelings for you, but, in my head, I was telling myself it was better for both of us to move on."

"Maybe it was. I seem to have bad luck with men," Sam said ruefully. "Ever since Clyde…," Sam trailed off. "I guess I always wanted to stay as independent as possible; that's why I always pick men I can't have." Sam thought back to the row of men she had dated in the last few years. She had slept with her share of married men, co-workers and even a one-night stand with an instructor at the FBI Academy. At least then she had woken up the next morning with the realization that she was about to ruin the future she had worked for so hard.

"Is that still the way you feel?" Jack asked gently.

"I don't know. I don't know what to think anymore. I do know that I don't want to lose you." Sam took Jack's hand.

"You won't, I promise. Whatever you decide to do, I'll be there." Sam wanted to believe Jack so badly, but part of her knew she would never be more than 'the other woman' in Jack's life. But when she looked up at Jack, she saw that he meant it.