|Darkness Falls (WAT) 3/?
||[Jan. 11th, 2006|10:37 pm]
|||||The Italian Job||]|
Nothing really happened in this chapter but still, it help me to develop the plots. Although may seems too many things going on, I will develop more the drama and I hope I won't mix too many things.
Author: Shirley Parker
Summary: Years later Samantha and Martin maintain a relationship, but it’s not what you think!
Disclaimer: They are not mine. If they were I would probably freak out and start to write about the wedding today. Yeah, I am silly like that.
Thanks to Sammi who beta this chapter for me. You're an anegl girl :).
Chapter 3: Moments
Samantha was still struggling to condense all her unorganized feelings into something she could withstand when Jack excused himself; walking towards Van Doren’s office with the same confidence that once captivated her. Sometimes Sam questioned why she let herself being so influenced by Jack Malone in the past, yet the answer wasn’t exactly an unsolved equation.
He was as tortured as she once was, and misery loves company.
She knew Martin was right, when he pointed out Jack Malone was the personification of her daddy issues. Sleep with her old, and married boss fulfilled a “prophecy” where her childhood problems would eventually morph into something substantial leading to a huge mistake in the process. But off course her actions didn’t go unpunished, and she felt mortified by her bad decisions. After the first affair, it became almost a pattern always second–guessing her resolutions making Samantha feel constantly insecure about decisions regarding her personal life.
Not that it really matters in the end, after all she continued acting destructively by choice.
After Jack’s announcement Samantha Spade felt anestesiated. The reality hadn’t sunk yet, but her heart had came with terms, that a ghost of her past needed her help. Of course it would bring into her life, more than just repressed memories, it would bring him back but David was someone who did a huge sacrifice to set her free, and she couldn’t ignore his cry for help.
She only noticed Danny’s glare at her five minutes after the call and she dread feeling so impotent. He understood why she was introspective and part of her hated being dissected by someone who knew how to read her so well. Samantha ignored him, focusing her attention on the white board of the MPU office.
As she tried to stay out of Danny’s disquieting radar, Samantha thought about irony. It was indeed ironic that she wanted eagerly stay true to her feelings, but all she manage to do was foreshadow emotions. She was a professional on it.
Sam couldn’t avoid the overflow of emotions when comes down to him.
She held her tears at the thought, thinking about Martin, brought her back to square one and in a blink of eye her wounds were exposed all over again. She felt alone and more vulnerable than before; Because untreated scars usually infected and invaded the blood system more easily.
It seems almost like he did sometimes, invaded her body even under her protests. Martin managed to be her second skin, impregnating inside her pores and becoming this way an essential part of her being. He was intrinsically on her flesh, between the fibers of her muscles, and her body didn’t react to the unwanted invader, and now it was too late, the effect he had on her wasn’t skin deep anymore.
For a moment Samantha reminded herself of the tragic swan’s lake ballet, she related instantly to the poor cursed princess that only return to life for a few hours a day.
She only felt normal and human when he was around.
And she hated it.
She was slowly loosing the control she took for granted.
Two seconds later, she gave the team a lame excuse and walked away from the conference room. In the bathroom she threw up, what she concluded it was her breakfast. It didn’t make her feel better though, only more humiliated. She was glad that at least she always kept a thoothbrush on her purse.
While she was on the bathroom’s floor, trying to calm her nerves and maybe regain part of her dignity back she thought about him; if he had changed in the last few months, if he thought about her, if he still loved her. A bunch of pathetic “ifs”.
Her life wasn’t suppose to be hard, she was supposed to be invincible; the walls she constructed around her heart carefully, couldn’t have cracks... an impenetrable continuity was the original plans. But the architeture of her had flaws, he found out a way to squeeze in.
As the world collapsed around her she tried to hang on happy times. Did she still remember the last time she truly smiled? Could she take back those moments?
She remembered every single detail imprint in her mind. Like a constant reminder of what she lost forever.
The dim lights of Martin’s balcony made her slowly slumber and the only connection she kept with the world outside was Martin Fitzgerald’s naked body clung to hers, their legs were entangled almost till the point there was no bounds between them. She smiled when his soft hand searched for hers and started to caress her lifeline, lost in thoughts she wanted avidly be part of. She love small touches, still her selfish part wanted to domain his mind.
Body and soul.
It was the first time she was in love and surprisingly, once she accepted it, it wasn’t as tortuous and scary as she pictured before.
She felt lighter.
He always had this effect on her, even when he was only a friend, but she doltishly ignored the signs for a long time, and the feelings stayed latent, silently swelling and taking unexpected forms as he slowly became an important part of her life. He waited for the awakening of an unrestrained passion, she was aware of it, and just like the flowers in spring her heart blossomed. Samantha suddenly felt that all her life she expected for the moment when the sunlights would reach the surface of her heart and the once barren and foreing territory would turn into a place full of mirth and life.
Indeed, her heart opened like the petals of a delicate flower, and welcomed him in, changing Sam’s life. Martin grounded her, showing her how much more existed behind the burning fire of passion and sex.
“You are cold” – He stated when she shivered at his touch. It was a reasonable explanation, if she wanted to stay in the denial route, but the weather was perfect and she was feeling very warm after the love making. The real reasons were nerving and admit that for a long time how he managed to touch her deeper, was still a fearfull place so she silently agreed with him.
He chuckled and stood up, heading over their room, disappearing out of her sight for a split second.
“Cute butt” – She voiced her thoughts and started to laugh when he went to the living room to face her, mimicking an I-feel-so-used expression – “I bet your ass wasn’t this delicious when you were younger”.
“Beg your pardon?” – Martin said while he walked around the living room with her favorite blanket. The white one always kept her warm in cold nights.
“I bet you were a dork in your early years Martin Fitzgerald, you still are, although there was some improvement in your physique” – She laughed again.
Martin looked at her, crossing his arms and smirking.
“Okay Samantha Spade I’ll proove you wrong. For your luck I have always kept at home, an album of my old pictures. Bonnie made it for me so I could never forget who I was” – He replied with a smidge of sadness in his voice.
He grabbed a velvet album stored inside a black cabin he bought specially to match his new TV.
Men and eletronic aqquisitions, she would never understand the thrill.
Her smile was broadly, almost infectuous when he approached her again, enveloping her with the blanket and the heat of his body. Martin made her rest against him, her back in contact with his chest and crossed his arms around her belly in the process.
“I planned all this you know, so you could show me your baby pictures” – She chuckled.
“You’re so mischievous, you know that?” – He smiled, holding her tight.
“So this is the young Martin Fitzgerald?” – She said, slowly turning the pages.
Various photos of him were displayed in a carefull manner, almost systematic, making Samantha smile inwardly. The pictures made her feel part of his past for a moment and she realized that although people changed, he probably would never shift drastically. Martin’s geekiness and caring soul were all over the pictures and she could acknowledge little traces of the man currently eveloping his arms around her. Bonnie loved Martin very much, Samantha could feel it. There was no way she didn’t put a lot of thought on the pictures she chose. This way he would always remind who he is.
She would too.
It seemed virtually impossible, but Samantha loved him a bit more because of it supressing the envy she felt over the fact he was so important in someone’s life.
Her heart missed a beat when a picture caught her attention: A young Martin with his parents in a place it wasn’t unffamiliar to her.
“When did you take this picture Martin?” – She asked. The tune of her voice made him genuinally curious.
“Well, it must be in late December because it was the only time my father took me to visit some place else. If I recall this was right after Christmas, since we usually spent Christmas eve at theTollands. But why are you asking me this?”
“Do you remember doing something special, anything unusual when you were at this place?”
“I don’t recall exactly, the details are all hazy in my mind. But why are you asking?” – He repeated the same question, puzzled by her reaction.
“It’s nothing really, but I’ve been there too, and I talked to someone for a brief moment... this boy helped me with my shoelace” – She laughed loudly – “I had this huge cast on my arm and forearm making it a very complicated thing to do. But still, I never let anyone help me ‘till that moment. There was something about him I couldn’t explain, I just wondered for a moment if it was you”
She smiled, remembering she hated the cast; she got it from an accident she fractured her arm, forearm and elbow.
There was a moment of silence between them.
“It was blue right, With a little dog?”
“Oh My God...yes!” – She shouted, smiling even more at the remembrance of her favorite shoes.
“We’ve met before Martin Fitzgerald. Our lives were crossed way before this point. It has to mean something” – A few tears fell down but she didn’t bother to hide. Life was indeed full of little surprises.
Maybe destiny had some sort of secret agenda to them.
“It was a great weekend. Too bad my dad left in the middle of the day” – A trace of biterness was noticeable in his speech. It didn’t surprise her, though.
“Your dad loves you Martin, don’t you ever believe otherwise”
“I know he loves me... and despite our fights, I love him too”
Samantha stand up, fixing her hair. Luckly it was very early and usually the FBI’s bath was deserted. The only thing that could make the moment more humiliating was an audience to watch her fall down.
No one would ever know about her moment of pure desolation.
“Good morning Sam” – Sarah replied when she spoted the blonde woman she was looking for coming out of the bathroom.
“Good morning Sarah... Is there any new data on Wilson’s case?” – Samantha asked, trying to mantain a professional tune even though she still felt shook up.
“I have no idea, Jack wants to see us in his office though, so maybe some juicy gossip about David Wilson surfaced” – Sarah said, shrugging lightly.
Both female agents head over Jack’s office, through the glass door she could see he was obviously preocuppied with the last events. Missing cases with heavy press coverage, always managed to be more distressing than the usual.
“Hi Jack, are you looking for us?” – Sarah asked, her businesslike tune emerging making a bland contrast with her personality.
“Yes I was, I receive an interesting call from special agent Donovan from homicides; They’re requesting the experties you accquire in the behavioral science unit to profile and help in a serial killer case” – Jack said, his eyes focused on the confluence between papers and photographs in front of him he liked to call his desk.
“What about David Wilson’s case? Don’t you need my help on this?” – She asked, frowning.
“Washigton is sending people from their MPU to help us. Wilson is a possible contestant in a future persidential election and that seems to count for something in DC” – Jack replied, dissatisfied. It was obvious he wasn’t too excited with the news.
“This means our first step is to find out who the other’s contenders are” – Samantha concluded, probably Jack would give this task to her and she felt very nervous.
“It’s a logical step, but you’re out of this case too Samantha. You’re assigned to help Sarah” – Jack replied.
“What?” – Samantha shouted, perplexed.
What the hell was going on?
“Sarah is going to need help and the first person that crossed my mind was you” – Jack replied cooly, almost emotioness.
Samantha felt furious, he was deliberately dragging her to an investigation she didn’t want to be part of because he didn’t think she could handle the case.
“I have no experience in profilling serial killers Jack. How am I supposed to do it?” – Samantha replied, a bit more loudly than she planned.
“You won’t be profilling, just gathering information. The killer murdered women in at least three different States. This is a huge case Sam and it’s going to be a good experience for you”.
“Stop being so fucking condescending towards me Jack. I’m not a baby, and I want to know why you’re shutting me off this case” – She yelled; Samantha didn’t care how much inappropiate it was to yell at Jack, she wanted a straight answer.
“Do you wanna know the truth agent Spade? Someone doesn’t want you on this case. I received a direct order to re–assign you. And they give me enough reasons to think it is an appropiate move” – Jack said, harshly.
He was the cause of it, she could see it clearly.
“This is BS, Jack and you know it...” – She shouted, her hands clenching into angry fists.
“You’re out of line in here agent Spade! Look, I really don’t fucking care about the problems you have with your current assigment, you do it or you’re going to be suspended. Am I clear? I won’t tollerate disrespect, remember I’m still your boss” – He shouted back.
“Yes boss” – She mumbled.
Samantha turned her back at Jack and still fuming she opened Jack’s office door, ignoring the looks of the agents who heard the fight.
Fuck them, she thought.
It seems she would be back to the bathroom earlier than she expected.
Martin stepped out the private jet his father landed to him and for the first time in years he felt the cold wind of the NY city embracing and welcoming him in. He managed to avoid for a long time meetings and found raises parties in New York because of the memories, but he couldn’t gracefully decline an invitation to colaborate with the FBI in the David’s disapereance investigation.
Obstruction of justice didn’t sound good and be the primal suspect would be even more destructive to his political carrer, he thought.
Despite the feeling of betrayal still lingering every single time he saw David, Martin learned to forgive him and he could almost consider him as a friend. It was a hard thought; since he received the infamous anonymous photographs of secret redenzevous between David and Sam he kept a huge emotional barrier making their so called friendship something strictly diplomatic.
“I miss our friendship” – David said, he was obviously distressed about something and Martin’s trained eyes from the years in the bureau could detect regret and guilt, but it didn’t matter.
He couldn’t care less in that moment.
“You’re a good man David, but it’s naive to think we can be in the same place where we stand before”.
“I’m just asking you to understand. She was miserable and I... I’ve lost the woman I loved” – David said, staring at the floor of Martin’s office.
He could tell he was sorry, but it wasn’t enough.
“I lost mine too” – He earnestly replied.
And it hurt almost to the point where he couldn’t stand.
Martin sighed, giving David a small smile. He was chained to that man not only by the political connections and mutual support. They were bounded by their childhood, by their losses, by the sense they were there to make a difference.
And because of her.
Martin politely thanked the airplane’s crew. Part of him was glad his feet hit the ground, relieved even. He hated flying.
The other part was sick, restless and worried.
Emotions overwhelmed him, by the time he entered the airport, there was moments when airports gave him the ilusion of liberation; But now, it was a place where many things were left unsaid.
And it was a reminder she always left him, no matter what he said or did. More than once he secretly saw her leaving but unfortunately it never gave him the sensation of closure. The first time in particular was the most painful thing he ever experienced and he almost succumbed to the urge of run towards her and beg her to stay. Luckly he was breathless, way drunk to control his walking and there was too much pain and pride so he refrained from doing so.
“Wait a minute” – Amanda shouted, waking him up of his transe.
Martin looked at the woman by his side smiling when she stubbornly tried to carry her own bags despite the fact he offered help. Amanda was full of confidence and at the same time some sort of heartbreaking frailty most people didn’t see it. Her black hair and blue eyes were so different from Samantha he could never confuse the two women, but there was a few details, small moments when he couldn’t tell the difference.
It was almost a pathology compare every woman in his life to Sam so off course he eventually would find a few simmilarities between them. Sometimes he almost loved her because of it.
But his feelings were stronger than him; Amanda’s feelings too. She didn’t love him either.
And both were miserable because of it.
“I love New York” – Amanda said while looked at the plane window. It was frightening but at the same time exciting to see the fluffy clouds on the sky.
“I love New York too. It’s bad I still didn’t find time to visit the city. After the elections we should spend a little time in here” – He lied, the truth was he didn’t want to be back.
“Yeah, maybe” – She shrugged.
After a few minutes of silence, Amanda stared to smile broadly, catching Martin’s attention.
“Do you want to know why I love it here so much?” – She asked casually; the truth was she felt very comfortable sharing things with Martin no matter the real intentions of their marriage really was.
“No... Why?” – He asked curious.
“New York it’s the only place besides Europe it feels like there is endless possibilities... I mean you see movies about people who found each other and for one night share meaninfull and stupid insights and memories they would never share in a normal circunstance. And there is these small, but exceptional moments, like a conspiracy to make the perfect day. When I go to New York, it feels like its real and possible you know? Like something huge is happening in other people’s life and there is someone who can change our lives too”.
He smiled, there was moments he asked himself why he couldn’t love her.
“But off course we grow up, and at age of 25 we loose hope so I obviously don’t think about it anymore... But still, I love NY stores”.
Martin laughed loudly at her remark.
“It’s not right you know... not having a wonderfull day” – Her sad reply.
He hoped things would change someday.
“It must be weird being back to NY” – Amanda spoke, struggling with her suitcases.
Martin sighed; she had no idea how hard it was being back to the place it all started.