(Thanks to demonchilde, once again.)

TERRIBLY AFAR IN THE LOST LANDS

Sam began her vacation in grand style: she slept for ten glorious hours, and felt truly invigorated for it. She and Chloe had a lazy morning whilst Angel busied herself downstairs in her studio. The mother-daughter pair were discussing their plans for the fortnight when Angel reappeared in the house, famished and looking for a break from her sweaty bout of work.

"So, do you have any firm plans yet?" Angel asked and took a cold mineral water out of the fridge.

Sam checked the list she had compiled. "Well, we're going to the zoo on Wednesday, and Charles' party is on Saturday, we'll stay the night there and come back on Sunday. We might go to the Margaret Mitchell museum one day. Oh, I want to buy a nice dress for Chloe for the party. You wanna tag along tomorrow?"

"Sure, count me in. What's cooking in the oven?"

"Hm?" Sam was currently engrossed in a Kodak catalogue. "Oh, it's mac and cheese. It'll be ready in twenty minutes. Look at this. What do you think?"

Angel inspected the lense Sam pointed out to, then read through the technical information, which said very little to her. "It looks good, but why are you asking me? You're the photographer in this household."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam considered the lense, worrying her lip. Then, she nodded, her mind made up. "I'm gonna go for it. I'll buy it tomorrow," she stated triumphantly and closed the catalogue.

"Good for you," Angel chuckled. "Hey, it's Monday. Are you gonna attend the women's exercise class tonight?"

Sam furrowed her brow. "Oh. That hadn't occurred to me. I'll think about it."

Angel looked dubious about Sam's words. "Right. I'll take a quick shower before eating."

"Yup," Sam checked the dish baking in the oven. It looked just as it should. She bit back a yawn, then wondered how on earth she could be tired this early in the day. Maybe she'd slept too much, or the work she'd put in this year was catching up to her. Or perhaps she was still tired from the night before.

Her thoughts flew to Bailey. What was he doing at that exact moment, how he was faring? Then, she checked herself. She was going on like he was in some predicament. He wasn't.

She stood up and refilled her glass of water at the sink. She pondered going to the exercise class later that day. Sticking to a routine might be a good thing. On the other hand, she could run into Bailey in the building, although the possibility was pretty remote. The thing was, she didn't know if she wished for or dreaded the encounter.

She decided to skip the class. She felt like she needed some distance from even the building where he... she worked. She was on holiday, after all. Maybe she'd join Angel in one of her workouts to stay active.

Just as Sam's thoughts swirled around Bailey, the man himself was examining the profile Sam had written of the second killer in the Tuscaloosa case. He would familiarise himself with it, then introduce it to the task force and give it to George for distribution within the Bureau and local police departments.

He finished reading the file, satisfied that Sam had hit the mark on all accounts. Then again, very seldomly was she in the wrong with a profile.

He wondered what she and Chloe had in store for their vacation together. Many visits to the zoo, if the girl had any say in the matter. And they'd be gone for the weekend. They'd be in Richmond for Charles' party.

Not seeing Sam for fifteen hours and counting had brought some peace of mind. Now, he was reminded of the kiss only every thirty minutes. And there it was again. He shook his head to clear his thoughts once again. He dialled George on the intercom and asked him to assemble the team to the command center. He'd introduce Sam's profile for the second Tuscaloosa killer in half an hour.

Sam, Chloe and Angel were browsing racks of girls' party dresses in a small boutique. Having splashed a small fortune on a new lens for her camera, Sam had decided that nothing was too expensive for her little girl. Fair's fair, after all, and most of the fancy dresses Chloe owned were Angel's handiwork, anyway.

Sam sized up a lavender dress with a white belt and bow on the waist. Angel approached her, holding a couple of dresses she'd selected herself to present to the duo.

"What do you think?" Sam held up the lavender dress in front of her.

"I don't know, it might be a bit too tiny. Do they even have that in your size?" Sam rolled her eyes at Angel's joke.

"All kidding aside, it's pretty. Chlo should definitely try it on. I found a few dresses myself. How's Chloe coming along?" Angel's gaze swept the place, then she chuckled when she saw the girl at the accessories section, trying on fascinators.

Sam followed Angel's gaze and gave her friend a wry smile. "I'm afraid you've spoiled my daughter. She has no stamina for clothes shopping."

"In a few years' time, you'll be thanking me. Have you decided what you're going to wear?"

"I'm not buying anything new, I'll tell you that right now. I'll probably wear the dress I had on at the Women in Law Enforcement thing." Sam moved a bit further along, then considered a pale blue polka dot dress with a long hem.

"Yeah, that should be fine. Come on, let's have Chloe try these on."

Sam abandoned the racks of clothes, taking with her the polka dot dress. The women walked up to Chloe, who was admiring a cute pair of giraffe earrings.

"Mom, can I have these? Please?"

Sam took the earrings and inspected them. "What are you talking about? These are for pierced ears, honey."

"But they're so cute! They look exactly like Gaby."

"Who's Gaby?"

"She's the baby giraffe you brought me from Chicago."

"Be that as it may, we're not getting any earrings. I've told you that we can pierce your ears when you're eleven. That still stands."

"Mom," Chloe pleaded futilely.

"I said no. Now, let's try on these dresses. Angel found some really nice ones. See?" Chloe was pouting and paid no heed to her mom's words.

"I'll take her to the fitting booths," Angel offered and took the two dresses Sam had selected. "Come on, Chlo. Look, I found you a dress with Snow White on the front. Tell me that isn't pretty," she cajoled the little girl and managed to lift her spirits. Angel and Chloe headed off to the left, in the direction of the fitting booths. Sam sighed and blessed her stars that she had Angel to help.

She took a closer look at the earrings and determined that Chloe had been right. The giraffes were cute and chubby in a lanky way, just like Gaby.

Her mind wandered to Chicago, but she stopped that train of thought resolutely before following her daughter and her friend.

Bailey, John, Marcus and George were conferring in the command center, going over the Tuscaloosa case victims and trying to round up potential suspects from people either the local pd's or the Bureau had come across.

The intercom buzzed with an incoming internal call. George reached for the receiver. "Command center, Fraley. Yes, he is here. One sec. Bailey, there's a call from the Sander Institute for Sam. A doctor called Simons is on the line."

Bailey concluded quickly that Wykoff must want to get in touch with Sam again. "Tell the operator I'll take the call in my office." He excused himself with haste and sauntered to his office, where the call waiting button on his phone was blinking away furiously.

"This is Agent Malone."

"Hello, I'm doctor Anna Simons from the Sander Institute. I was hoping to reach Agent Waters," the doctor announced politely.

"She's currently on holiday. I'm her boss. May I ask why you're calling her?"

"My patient Elliot Wykoff hopes that she'd pay him another visit."

Bailey had been right on the money. For all of Wykoff's progress, he still wasn't socially functionable. He wouldn't probably ever use the phone on his own. "I see. I can get in touch with her and ask her to call you back. Would that do?"

"That'd be splendid. Thank you. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." He hung up, then hit the speed dial to call Sam on her cell phone.

"Sam Waters." She sounded a little distracted.

He took a deep breath without realizing it. "Hey Sam, it's me."

"Hey, Bail. What's up?" Though he couldn't be sure, he thought he could detect some guarded hope in her voice.

"I just got a call from Doctor Simons. Wykoff wants you to visit him again."

"Oh. Did she say when?" He could tell that she'd been surprised. But by what?

"No, but she's waiting for your call. Can you call her, or should I get in touch with her?" Unaware, he'd turned to gaze at Sam's office, even though he knew she wasn't there.

"Nah, I can call her. Do you want to come along, if you're free that day?"

"I'll make the time."

"Okay. I'll let you know the time and date. I'd better call her right now." She sounded a bit wistful.

For some strange reason, he echoed her sentiment. "Yeah. Talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye."

He stood by his desk for a moment, wondering why he should feel so melancholy after their call. Then, he shook off those reflections. He could try to work them out at the gym later that day. Right now, his agents were waiting in the command center.

Frances cricked her neck, letting her hands rest on top of the keyboard. She was composing an email to her sister. She was writing it to be complete before she dialled up the Internet connection. Her dad had occasionally chided her about the amount of money her Internet surfing was costing him, and she was trying to keep her nose clean in that regard. Too bad calling another state was so expensive, too. She could call Arianna and their mom in Baltimore only once a month.

Arianna had suggested a visit in Atlanta during her summer break. She'd begged and pleaded with her mom until Janet had agreed to foot the bill for the plane ride. Now, it was just a question of arranging the time. Something Frances had forgotten to ask her dad about. Ari's visit would be a good reason for him to have a couple days off, maybe even a whole week.

Frances heard her dad calling out to her from the kitchen. He'd arrived home. "Hey, I'm in my room!"

Bailey walked up to his daughter's room. "Hey sweetheart. How was your day?"

Frances turned around to face him. "Hi. It was fine. Nothing much happened. How about you? Catch any bad guys today?" she asked with a smile.

Bailey leant against the door frame. "Not today, but we're getting closer to a few. What are you doing?"

"Writing an email to Ari. I totally forgot to tell you that mom finally agreed to pay for her plane tickets for Columbus Day. Would that be a good time for you? Could you take a week off?" she asked in a hopeful tone.

"Well..." Frances' face darkened with disappointment at his hedging, and Bailey felt rotten.

"Come on, dad! Even the president gets to have a vacation," she pointed out.

He relented, knowing that a vacation together would be something they'd all cherish. "You're right. I'll check tomorrow at the task force which week would work for me."

"Yay! Thank you!" Frances flew to her dad's neck and hugged him. "Thank you so much. They'll be fine without you for one week. Sam's more than capable of heading the task force."

"Yes, she is. Now, what have you had to eat?"

"We still have the pasta from last night. I'll warm it up after I've sent Ari the email. And no, I won't stay on and surf on those GeoCities webrings," she said to pre-empt her dad's warning.

Bailey ambled to his own room, laid his brief case on the bed, took off the gun and its holster from its strap under his arm and placed them in the gun safe. He shook off his jacket and folded it onto the bed. He'd take it to the dry cleaners tomorrow, so there was no use in hanging it in the closet.

He loosened the knot on his tie and opened the upmost button of his dress shirt. He'd worn his purple tie today. In an effort to convince himself that everything was normal, and that nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the past week.

He had to admit that he missed having Sam at the task force. But even more than missing her, he worried about her. About them. There was uncertainty where there used to be closeness; he could sense it even in their phone calls.

Maybe the kisses had broken something between them. That was only the seventh time he'd thought of them today. He might as well take that as progress. So, there was that, if nothing else. Just the fading impact of the incident that may have wrought havoc on his closest friendship.

It was probably for the best that Ari was coming to Atlanta for a visit. Spending time with his daughters might save him from becoming entirely disillusioned and jaded.

Charles' birthday party was underway. The guests numbered in at two dozen, most of whom neither Sam nor Chloe had met before. They were Charles' cousins, old neighbours and former colleagues. The only familiar faces were Tom's immediate family; Helen, Charles, Margaret and Emma. Margaret was the eldest of the children. She'd been two years Tom's senior. Like her parents, she'd gone into horse rearing and ran her own stables twenty miles out of Richmond. Emma, the baby daughter, was three years younger than Tom, and worked as a paralegal at a successful law firm in Virginia Beach.

Margaret had always been consumed by her own existence, and she had only ever had but the faintest interest in the lives of her younger siblings. Accordingly, she'd never had any relationship to Sam apart from their in-law status. Emma, on the other hand, had adored her brother, and by extension, Sam. Her loving Chloe went without saying.

Wanting to start healing the breach as soon as possible, Sam had offered her assistance to Helen after she and Chloe had taken their bags up to the guest room. Helen had declined the offer frostily, insisting that everything was under control. Sam had taken the rejection graciously, and had made up her mind to see to it that Chloe enjoyed her time there. She guessed that she wouldn't be as lucky.

Fortunately, Charles hadn't let the outcome of the custody trial sour his view of his former daughter-in-law, and Emma was as amiable as ever, instantly engrossing herself in all things Chloe. Margaret showed interest in her niece, but it never approached the adoring heights of her sister's conduct. Midway through the soiree, as Chloe was performing her Sleepy solo for the benefit of the party guests, Sam headed to the kitchen to make another attempt to thaw out Helen's icy demeanour.

"Helen, Chloe's performing her Sleepy ballet solo. I can take over in here."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll do it again," the older woman dismissed Sam's good-will gesture with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Sam fought to conceal her disappointment. "You're probably right. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, it's all taken care of."

"Okay. Listen, how busy are you the week following the next? Maybe Chloe could spend it here, with you."

"The whole week?"

"Yes. I've been on holiday this week, and I have next week off, too, but then I go back to work. I thought that Chlo would love to spend some time here. Would that suit you?"

"It's a little short notice, but she's welcome here anytime, as you well know," Helen said curtly.

Sam decided to overlook that little jab. "Great. I'll reserve flights for next Sunday and the week after."

"You do that."

Helen continued puttering around the spacious kitchen. Sam decided to broach another topic that had been a small bone of contention between the two women.

"Chloe's turned into a speed reader. She can go through an entire book in practically one sitting."

"Oh my," was all Helen said on the subject, sounding wary.

"Some time ago, I asked you about some books Tom loved as a child. The Chronicles of Narnia. I was wondering if you'd had the time to look for them." Sam noticed that Helen's posture stiffened when she mentioned the topic again.

"I'm sorry, I haven't."

"Well, I could help you look for them. I believe Chloe would dearly love to read books her dad owned."

"What books, mommy?" Chloe had snuck up on them while their backs were to the door. Sam could see a peeved expression on Helen's face. The woman was as loath as ever to part with anything she associated with Tom, even for her own granddaughter's benefit.

"A few children's books that your daddy used to own, honey," Sam answered.

"Children's books? Can I have them, grandma?"

"I don't know where they are, sweetie," Helen said, trying to conceal her irritation.

"Maybe me and mommy can help you find them, then," Chloe suggested with an eager look on her face.

"Tell you what. We'll look for them," Helen agreed.

"Thank you! I'll go tell Emma." Chloe skipped her way out of the kitchen, leaving the adults in an uncomfortable mood between them.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for her to hear that."

"I'm sure you didn't." Helen's bark was covered by a thin veil of sincerity. "Well, the books must be in the storage room. We'll look there tomorrow," she informed Sam in a reluctant tone.

Sam had just given Helen a major win by suggesting that Chloe spend a week with them, the first time the girl would spend time alone with her grandparents after the custody trial. But, Helen wasn't willing to give an inch in return. "Thank you. I'll go and join the party," Sam managed to reply in a civil manner before leaving the kitchen.

Sam joined the others in the spacious living room. She entered the fray as Charles seemed to be telling a yarn from his professional horse breeder days. She didn't feel like trying to catch up to the story by guessing at the missing pieces, and she was still fuming from her unintentional run-in with Helen. She decided to go rummage the boxes in the storage room for a while. She grabbed her trench on the way out, not wanting to soil her dress with dust.

The room was situated next to the garage. It was a large space filled with boxes, a spare bed, a few lounge chairs and a sun shade. The Waters had a different storage for all the extra horse rearing and grooming equipment.

She put on her trench and made an educated guess as to in which corner of the room the books might be stored. She started dismantling one column of boxes, placing them on the bed and peering inside if they seemed heavy enough to contain books. She worked up a sweat looking into her first eight boxes. She decided to slow down, or otherwise, she'd rejoin the party conspicuously sweaty.

Sam realized the reason behind her unintentional workout: she'd been giving an outlet to her frustration with Helen. The woman knew how to rile her up. The queen of passive aggression.

She took a deep breath, checking her emotions. She wasn't angry at Helen. Well, not solely at her mother-in-law. She realized with a jolt that she was also mad at herself. Mad at Bailey.

Because she missed him. She missed them, as they had been a week ago, when the kisses had yet to happen.

She'd only spoken to him once all week. No wonder she missed him.

As it happened, she'd left her cell phone in her trench pocket after she'd called Angel just before arriving to Helen and Charles'. She fished it out, punching in Bailey's cell phone number without a moment's hesitation.

He answered on the fifth ring. "Malone."

"Hey Bailey, it's me," she began unsurely, all of a sudden tentative. What if he asked why she was calling? Missing the way they'd been a week ago would sound like the ramblings of a mad woman, however valid they may be.

"Hey. What's going on? Isn't Charles' party underway?"

"It is. I'm just..." She fell silent, wondering what to say. There was no need; Bailey guessed readily her motivation.

"Taking a breather?"

She smiled at his wording. "In a way." She looked around the storage room. "I'm looking for some old books of Tom's. In the storage room by the garage," she added, thinking that Bailey would be amused by her choice of distraction.

"Well, you know what they say. There's no time like the present." She could hear his delight in his voice.

"My thoughts exactly," she chuckled. "Anyway. What were you up to?"

"I was educating Frannie on the fine art of motion pictures. We're watching Casablanca."

"Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's fine. Judging from the way she bolted to the bathroom when you called, I'd say she welcomed the break."

"Okay, good. So." Again, she wondered how to continue. "Any other plans?"

"After this, I'm cooking dinner, and then it's Queen of Africa."

Sam couldn't help tilting her head to the side and grinning. "Are you having a Humphrey Bogart marathon?"

"Frannie stipulated that we should watch at least one movie with a happy ending, but otherwise, she gave me free reign," he defended his choices.

"Maybe next time you could watch a foreign film, too. Any film by Fellini should be an excellent choice. Plus, it'd be in Italian." Sam was pleased that their conversation was once again flowing so effortlessly.

"Hm, that's a good idea. Although, that's gonna get Frannie going again about a trip to Italy."

"And she'd be right in insisting that you go there. Come on, Bail, live a little."

"It isn't a matter of living, it's a matter of financing," he pointed out.

"Ah. Maybe you'll win the lottery one of these days."

"Here's hoping. But I will have you know that I have arranged to take off the Columbus Day week. Arianna's coming to Atlanta."

"Finally! Not the Arianna bit, but the vacation. Anyway, that's great."

Sam heard footsteps behind her, and she swung around to see Emma entering through the door. "Listen, I've gotta go. Have fun with Frances. I'll talk to you later."

"Give me love to Chloe. Bye."

"I will. Bye."

Emma considered her widowed sister-in-law and struggled to hide her curiosity about whom Sam had been calling. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she had noticed the warm, soft quality in Sam's voice in no time.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to disrupt. I just came looking for you."

"No, it's fine. I was just talking to Bailey," she explained, clearing her throat a little.

"Bailey?" Sam seemed to suppose that Emma knew the person in question, and so she searched her memory for an acquaintance with that name.

She came up short. "Is she one of your friends from college?"

Sam laughed out loud. "No, Bailey is a he. He's my friend. My boss at the task force."

"Ah. What are you doing here? You left close to thirty minutes ago."

"Have I been here that long? Shit. I had no idea."

"Don't worry about Chloe. I told her that I was going to look for you."

"I was just searching for some books for Chloe. The Chronicles of Narnia that used to belong to Tom."

Emma shot her an incredulous look. "Why are you looking here? I think they're in Tom's old room."

Sam's anger flared. "Your mom said... Nevermind," she reined in her resentment. "Let's get back to the party."

Frances hurried back to the couch, eager to continue the saga of Rick and Elsa. She would have preferred to stay in her place and follow discreetly the phone call between her dad and Sam, but nature had called. She scrunitinized her dad in one quick glance as she took the final steps and sat down. He looked... relieved, if that was the right word for it.

She knew that Sam was on vacation, and she could tell that her dad missed seeing his friend everyday. Whenever he came home these past five days, he seemed somehow subdued. Like one tiny thread of his animated existence had been cut. Now, she could see a glimmer of it again.

Her dad drew his eyes away from the telephone. "You ready to continue?"

She nodded. "Let's watch Rick single-handedly defeat the Nazis. That's what happens, right?" Her dad shook his head, amused, and pushed the play button.