JACK
A headache pounded behind Jack Malone’s eyes. The day was
bright and clear, but the sunshine only made the pain worse. It felt like a
tribe of little pygmies thumping bongo drums had taken up residence in his
skull. Viv sat quietly beside him, eating a muffin, and he couldn’t bring
himself to look at her.
God, what a mess.
‘Viv - ‘ he began.
‘Forget it, Jack.’ She crumpled up the paper bag her
breakfast had come in, and tucked it neatly into her handbag. ‘They gave me a
choice, you know. Stay with Missing Persons with a demotion back to my old
status, or move to Colorado to keep the promotion.’
He took a deep breath and looked at her. ‘Why did you
stay?’
She took a bite of muffin, chewed slowly, swallowed. ‘I
like it here. Reggie’s settled. He
didn’t want to move to Colorado, and neither did I. The promotion wasn’t that
important to me.’
He said nothing. He didn’t have enough energy for Vivian’s
problems as well as his own, anyway. Everything was so confused. Maria and the
girls in Chicago. Divorce papers signed. Lawyers and custody battles and
Samantha Spade’s name soon to be dragged through the mud if he fought for joint
custody of his daughters.
Samantha.
Two years ago, she had walked away from him when she
realised that his marriage was not, as he had always told her, irrevocably
over. Watching her go - letting
her go - had been the hardest thing he had ever done. Now he was free, really
free, and he didn’t know quite what to do.
Because, of course, Maria had never been the only obstacle
to loving Samantha. There was the job, too. And the age difference. And the
insidious, sneaking suspicion that she wanted something that he simply couldn’t
give.
‘Jack?’
He flinched at the curiousity in Viv’s voice. ‘Sorry. Just
thinking.’
‘Why do I get the impression it’s not about the job?’
Jack rubbed his temples. It was never any good trying to
hide anything from Viv. ‘Probably because it’s not.’
She patted his arm, awkwardly. ‘I can’t imagine what it
would be like
to be fighting for custody of Reggie. If there’s anything
I can do - ‘
He shook his head before considering how much that would
hurt. ‘I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. Even if I get joint
custody, the girls will still have to spend the bulk of their time in Chicago
with Maria.’ And he couldn’t follow them there. He could have done it to keep
his family intact, but he couldn’t - wouldn’t - crawl after Maria
begging for scraps of his daughters’ time.
‘We’re worried about you, Jack,’ Viv said, gently.
He looked away from her, out across the sunlit park where
joggers and children basked in the fresh peacefulness so uncommon in a big
city. He didn’t want her pity. Didn’t
want anyone’s - with one possible exception. ‘Is that why you brought me here?
To pat me on the head and tell me every cloud has a silver lining?’
She sighed. ‘ No, I brought you here because you don’t
look like you’ve done anything but work for the past three weeks. You could use
a little sunshine.’
He didn’t need her to mother him, and maybe he would have
told her so if he hadn’t suddenly recognised one of the joggers. Samantha. He
could only catch glimpses of her through the trees, but that was all it took. A
flash of golden hair. The sweet curve of her cheek. Familiar limbs encased, unfamiliarly, in sweats. She seemed to be
with someone, talking to someone, but he couldn’t see who.
Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted to do about his
new found freedom, and heaven help the man who stood in his way. He took a deep
breath, and dragged his gaze away, because it certainly wouldn’t do for Vivian
to guess what he had been thinking if she too spotted the younger agent.
‘Isn’t that Martin?’ she said, suddenly.
Jack blinked. No, he wanted to say. It’s Samantha. What
are you talking about? They couldn’t possibly both be running around the
same park on the same morning at the same time.
Then Samantha emerged from the trees onto an open stretch
of track and he saw her companion, properly, for the first time.
‘That is Martin,’ Viv was saying, ‘and isn’t that
Sam with him?’
Jack forced himself to nod. Samantha was laughing at
something, glancing up at Martin and gesturing. She looked happy and animated
and sweaty and he couldn’t ever remember seeing her so relaxed. So casual.
Martin grinned, damn him, and dropped back to a walk.
Samantha laughed again and walked beside him, talking. Jack could hear the
sound of her voice, but he couldn’t make out the words however hard he
strained. And, with Vivian perched right beside him, he could hardly try to
creep closer so he could listen better.
‘I wonder if Danny’s here somewhere, too,’ Viv said.
Jack stared at her. ‘Why the hell would Danny be here?’
Vivian shrugged. ‘We’re here. Sam and Martin are here. Why
not?’ She stood up, stretching a little, and Jack snapped at her before he
could stop himself.
‘Where are you going?’
She paused mid-stride and looked at him as though he had
decided to dye his hair purple. ‘I’m going down to say hello,’ she said. ‘Are
you coming?’
Relief pumped through him. If Viv hadn’t seen it, hadn’t
seen the casual intimacy that seemed so obvious to him, then maybe he was
imagining it. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, trying to convince him
that Samantha would inevitably prefer young Martin to middle-aged Jack. ‘We may
as well,’ he said, and stood.
Then he froze.
Over Vivian’s shoulder, he had a clear view down the slope
to where Samantha and Martin walked together - far clearer than he wanted. Gut
twisting in time with the pounding in his head, he watched as Martin grabbed
Samantha’s arm and playfully spun her around. Backed her against a tree while
she laughed up at him.
Bent his head and kissed her.
Vivian spotted his distraction and turned around before he
could stop her. She turned back to him, eyebrows raised. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t go
say hello, after all.’
Perfectly composed, she sat back down on the bench.
‘Jack?’
He tore his eyes away and sat down beside her. He didn’t
need to watch to see the simple intimacy in that kiss, the easy way Sam’s arms
slipped up around Martin’s neck. He risked a glance down the hill, and they
were walking again, heading side-by-side towards an ice-cream stand. He
swallowed hard.
‘What the hell am I going to do about that?’
Vivian raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Absolutely nothing?’
‘Affairs between co-workers - ‘ He stopped midsentence. He
could
hardly continue down that path without landing
himself in a huge
pile of hypocrisy. Vivian looked at him steadily, and said
nothing. ‘Damn it, Viv, you know as well as I do - ‘
‘I know that what single, consenting adults do in their
off-duty hours is none of our business, Jack. And you know that, too.’
He did know it, unfortunately. The Bureau considered
affairs between superior and subordinate unacceptable but, if discretion was
practiced and working hours respected, had little desire or jurisdiction to
censure relationships between equals.
Viv pressed her advantage. ‘She’s happy, Jack. Let her
just be happy.’
It was, probably, the closest she would dare come to
saying ‘I know you want her back, but you can’t have her’. It was certainly
close enough to sting.
‘One thing you learn about being in charge, Viv, is that
the “happiness” of one agent can compromise an entire investigation.’
She said absolutely nothing, again, just looked down the
slope so pointedly that his gaze drifted there without his permission. Chocolate ice-creams. He’d never had a
chance to jog with her and eat chocolate ice-creams on a warm spring morning.
Never wiped a melting trickle from the side of her cone and made a joke that
made her chuckle. He’d had his family to think of, after all. And his job.
His head ached, his stomach clenched, and all he could
think was
It’s not fair, not fair, not fair.
As though she sensed his gaze, Samantha looked up. For a
moment, his eyes locked with hers, and an odd expression crossed her face. Then
it vanished and, before he could look away, the two of them were walking
together up the slope, relaxed and calm.
Vivian touched his arm. ‘Be nice, Jack,’ she muttered, and
he wondered why she was so accepting of Martin when she had been so quietly
condemning of him for doing the same thing, wanting the same woman.
Martin stopped a few feet away, hand sticky with
ice-cream, and gave a polite smile. He knows, Jack thought, startled. He knows
about me and Samantha. The younger man’s eyes were guarded, but there was no
fear in his stance. No submission. He stood there beside her, tall and alert.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘This weather seems to be bringing
everyone out.’ He made no excuse, no stammered explanation as to why the two of
them were in the park that morning, eating ice-creams and kissing in the
sunlight.
Jack slid his hands into his pockets before they clenched
into visible fists. ‘That’s a nutritious breakfast, Agent Fitzgerald.’
Samantha took a bite of her cone, crunching delicately.
‘It’s ten a.m., Jack. Breakfast was hours ago.’
Martin smiled politely. Again.
Vivian stood up. ‘You know, those look mighty good. I
think I might head home, drag Reggie out of bed, and take him out for
ice-cream. We used to do that a lot when he was little - it’s been too long.’
Jack sat silently while Sam and Martin said their
goodbyes. He had nothing to say. All he could see, all he could think of, was
the young couple standing calmly in front of him. No excuses. No explanations.
No effort to pretend they hadn’t been together all morning.
No attempt to shove the fact in his face.
It seemed wrong that Samantha looked so happy, standing
there with Martin, as though he, Jack, no longer mattered to her at all. Unable
to stand it any longer, he jerked to his feet. ‘I’ll see you Monday morning,’
he said, and strode away without another word.
SAMANTHA
It felt good to be jogging, with the sun warming her hair
and the breeze cooling her face. Normally, she preferred to exercise alone, but
Martin was a good companion. She’d gone jogging with Danny once, to clear her
head after an all-nighter, and he’d done nothing but chat non-stop. Martin
talked occasionally, but just enough to make things interesting. Unlike Danny,
Martin knew when to talk and when to be quiet.
Martin.
It bothered her, a little, how much she seemed to be
thinking about him lately. When she was with him. When she wasn’t. Since her
impulsive invitation two months ago - and maybe even before that - she had
started noticing a lot of things about Martin.
He could cook cajun chicken surprisingly well, but always
burnt toast. Most Saturday mornings, he babysat Ava so that Jamie and her
husband could have a couple of hours ‘grown up time’. He loved M*A*S*H, and had
the complete series on DVD, so that he could watch his favourite episodes to
unwind after a stressful day. He was interested in philosophy, and had a whole
shelf of books about Aristotle and Kant and epistemology and metaphysics which
she was going to have to try to read some day, to figure out what the appeal
was.
He looked at her with faith and hope and longing showing
strong in his eyes.
That was a little disturbing, because she frankly didn’t
know if she had it in her to give him what he seemed to want. But he was wise
enough - or cautious enough - not to push the matter, and she was mostly
content to let this thing between them unfold at its own pace without worrying
that she was losing control.
‘Let’s get ice-creams,’ she said, impulsively.
Martin looked across at her, grinning. ‘Doesn’t that kinda
defeat the purpose of jogging?’
She chuckled, delighting in the sunshine and the breeze
and the gentle amusement on his face. ‘Ice-cream has milk in it. You haven’t
had any dairy products this morning, have you?’
He slowed back to a walk. ‘I had milk in my coffee.’
She snorted, matching her pace to his. ‘One splash of milk
hardly counts.’
‘Two splashes.’
‘Prove it.’
He caught her arm, swung her smoothly and gently around so
that her back was to a tree. She read his intention in his eyes, and tilted her
head up to him as he kissed her. She tasted coffee and toothpaste, and found
herself smiling again as he pulled back and looked at her.
‘Definitely only one splash,’ she told him.
He shook his head, smiling. ‘Okay. You win. Chocolate?’
‘Is there any other kind?’
They walked together across the springy grass, and she
felt an odd sense of contentment. She’d been feeling that a lot lately, which
surprised her. With Jack not going to Chicago, she’d expected more...confusion.
Soul-searching, even. But she spent more time wondering why she wasn’t worrying
than actually worrying, which was frankly quite bizarre.
They bought chocolate ice-creams, and Martin looked like a
little boy with a clandestine treat.
‘My mother would never have let me do this,’ he
said, smiling. ‘She had this thing about junk food in the mornings. No
unhealthy snacks before lunch, if at all.’
‘Really?’
He nodded, and stole a trickle of chocolate from the side
of her cone. ‘I loved going to Bonnie and Roger’s at Easter time because I
could eat all the chocolate I wanted. Before lunch and after. I remember
this one time, they set up an Easter egg hunt for me in their front yard. My
cousins were too little, so they had eggs inside. I was determined to find
every single egg Bonnie had hidden.’
‘And did you?’
‘Actually, I found more. I accidentally strayed into a
neighbour’s yard, and stole some of the eggs he’d hidden for his daughter. The
neighbour was furious, but Bonnie calmed him down. She gave him a batch of
chocolate fudge brownies, and a big bunch of flowers for the little girl. And
she made me apologise and take all the extra eggs back.’
Sam laughed. ‘What a tyrant.’
His smile turned a little sad, as it still always did when
he spoke of his aunt. ‘Yeah, she was up there with Napoleon,’ he said, and fell
silent.
She stood beside him, eating ice-cream and letting him
have a moment to himself. Bonnie had been more of a Mom to him than his own
mother, and he still felt her death keenly. She looked around the park as she
ate, drinking in the simple pleasures of sunshine and flowers and laughing
children.
Then she saw Jack.
He was sitting on a park bench, next to Vivian, which
struck her as rather odd. He had the strangest expression on his face, and she
wondered just how long he had been watching her. Then she consciously
straightened her spine and nudged Martin.
He looked a little guarded when he spotted Jack - she
couldn’t really blame him for that - but he didn’t hesitate to follow when she
started up the slope to where Jack and Viv were sitting.
Jack watched her, a mixture of hunger and fury on his
face. She slowed down a little, letting Martin take the lead and stop a short
distance from the park bench. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘This weather seems to bringing
everyone out.’
He sounded calm, Sam realized, and that relaxed her. She
didn’t want the awkwardness of being caught between Jack’s anger and Martin’s
defensiveness. Jack was certainly angry - which Martin couldn’t possibly have
missed - but her lover’s relaxed pose kept things simple.
Jack slid his hands into his jacket pockets. ‘That’s a
nutritious breakfast, Agent Fitzgerald,’ he said, his tone biting.
Sam flinched at the open hostility. Damn it, she wanted to
shout, I’m not a bone to be fought over. And I’m certainly not the property of
Special Agent Jack Malone, supervisor and adulterer. But instead of shouting,
she took a small bite of ice-cream. ‘It’s ten a.m., Jack. Breakfast was hours ago.’
Actually, they hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, though
Jack hardly needed to know that.
Beside her, Martin said nothing.
Viv stood up, looked around at the three of them and -
sensibly, Sam thought - made her goodbyes.
‘See you on Monday, Viv,’ Martin said, and gave her a
little wave as she walked away.
Then they were alone with Jack, standing in front of him
like naughty students. Sam rebelled against the thought. They were consenting
adults. They were not behaving inappropriately. And she was not
accountable to Jack Malone for anything she did in her personal life.
He stood, suddenly. ‘I’ll see you Monday morning,’ he
said, curtly, and strode away.
He knows, she thought, and expected to
feel...something. A pang. An emptiness. Instead, she took a bite of ice-cream
cone, and put her free hand on Martin’s rigid shoulder.
He spoke before she could, staring off after Jack. ‘Do you
regret it?’
She stepped around him so that they were face to face.
‘Regret what?’
The affair with Jack? Ending it? Sleeping with Martin?
Martin shrugged and avoided her eyes. ‘Making...making a
choice.’ His voice faltered, and it took her a moment to understand why.
He didn’t know, not for sure, that she had made a
choice. A part of him still wondered if he was a stopgap measure, due to be
discarded now that Jack was soon to be a free man.
Sam answered him the only way she could think of: she
slipped her fingers through his and tugged him gently down the slope, back to
the path where they had jogged so happily. Back to the sunshine and the peace
and the college girls who smirked appreciatively as Martin walked past them,
oblivious.
‘Everyone has regrets, Marty,’ she said, tossing the last
piece of her cone in a nearby trash can. She took his from his unresisting
fingers and did the same with it. ‘And everyone makes choices.’
‘I’m not interested in everyone,’ he said, and his calm
expression slipped a little, letting her see the desperation lurking behind his
eyes. Her stomach fluttered as she glimpsed raw need. God. ‘I’m interested in
you.’
She touched the side of his face, leaving a smear of
chocolate on his jaw. ‘Martin, I can’t promise you forever. I don’t know if I
have it in me. But I can promise you that right now, right here is the only
place I want to be.’ Once she said it, it didn’t seem enough, but the tension
left Martin’s shoulders and he smiled at her.
He met her eyes. ‘Then that’s enough.’ He brushed a light
kiss on her forehead, and smoothed her hair with one hand. ‘That’s enough.’
She let him take her hand as they walked slowly back to
his apartment, but she couldn’t help feeling a little troubled. She hadn’t
wanted him to push her - but she couldn’t help wishing, almost, that he had.
Couldn’t help wondering what she would have said if he had asked for more.
Couldn’t help wondering if maybe she herself wasn’t
content with just ‘enough’.
End.
