"Without a Trace:" Samantha Spade/Jack Malone. 24. Family
Title: All in the Family
Fandom: "Without a Trace"
Characters: Jack Malone, Samantha Spade -- allusions to Martin Fitzgerald and Anne Cassidy.
Prompt: 24. Family.
Word Count: 900.
Rating: PG.
Summary: "I can't just stand by and watch it fall apart."
Author's Notes: Post-ep for "The Road Home."
All in the Family
***
He retrieved the report that had practically been tossed upon his desk. Phone pressed to his ear, he might not have even noticed if he hadn't felt the slight gust of air that always accompanied a quick closing of the door to his office. He was chuckling at something Anne was saying, as he idly flipped through the pages -- filling in the details of the case from the notes provided. Suddenly, he stopped -- finger frozen on one line in particular.
"Samantha," he called, after apologetically, but hastily ending his own call.
She was waiting for the elevator, but didn't even turn around to respond. "Something wrong with my report?"
He hurried over to stand directly in front of her, so she'd be forced to have this conversation. "I think you know the answer."
"Actually, I don't," she replied, her arms folded across her chest. "We found Matt Jameson, which bring up the department's solve rate -- and it was a media-friendly case, which is good PR for the Bureau -- which keeps Washington out of your hair for another day." The elevator arrived, its doors dinging open, and she moved to step inside. "So, no -- I don't see what your problem is."
He stuck his hand out, blocking the doors from closing, as he practically stuck the folder in her face. "Says here you and Agent Fitzgerald went to check out Ramsey. Then your notes indicate only you went to follow up on Ramsey's alibi." He snapped the folder shut, but she didn't flinch. "So, what was he doing while you were looking into Ramsey's alibi, alone?"
"How do you know Martin wasn't with me--" she put an odd emphasis on the last two words-- "and I just didn't write it down."
He gave her a skeptical look, and when she didn't add anything more, he once again flipped open the file. "Because Martin's notes don't indicate he was with you." He echoed her odd emphasis. "The last thing he has for that day is going to see Ramsey." The folder quickly closed once again. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"
The elevator began to groan in protest at being propped open. Dropping his hand, he slipped through the entryway, just as the doors were finally sliding shut.
When her only response was to push the button for the lobby, he reached in front of her and pulled the emergency stop.
Now she was looking at him with amusement. "Tempting." Her voice seemed to falter, slightly. "But I don't think your girlfriend would be too pleased."
"Cut the crap, Sam," he rebuked. "And stop covering for Martin."
"Covering for Martin?" she repeated, incredulously. "I'm covering for you."
He didn't speak for a moment -- trying to make sure he'd heard her correctly. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, irritated. He didn't remember her usually being this cryptic.
She got that exasperated look on her face; it was a look he'd almost forgotten. "He got shot, Jack. A few months later, he got hurt again. He's been coming in late, behaving erratically--" She cut herself off, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Before he'd allowed her words to fully sink in, she continued. "I didn't know either...until today. Only Danny knew, but he covered for all of us." Her voice dropped as she seemed to take a small step closer. "But at least it was because I didn't want to know, not because I didn't care."
"Oh, so now I don't care," he responded, sarcastically.
He wasn't quite expecting her cold smile and exaggerated shrug. "You tell me," she challenged. "Have you been in the field with him lately? Put those profiling skills to work? Have you even talked to him--"
"That's enough," he roared, slamming the file against the wall -- loosing a torrent of pages, which floated harmlessly to the ground. He pressed his forehead to the sidewall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply -- trying to regain some form of control.
When he stepped back, opening his eyes once more, she was staring at him -- the expression on her face inscrutable. Without a word, she simply leaned forward and released the emergency stop button. They rode in silence the rest of the way, standing amidst the flood of loose paper.
The doors opened, and she stepped gingerly into the lobby -- taking special care, it seemed, to step around the mess on the floor as best she could.
Just as the elevator was about to close, she turned around -- and his hand shot out instinctively, blocking the door's path.
"It's just..." she began, glancing down at her hands for a second. "I know Vivian has her own family, and you have...yours..." she trailed off, meaningfully, before taking a breath. "But he's-- they're all my family. This place..." she seemed to be looking for the right words, "it's like my home. It's the only home I've got right now." Then she smiled, as if to lighten the impact of her statement. "And I..."
Once again, the elevator strained against his hand.
"...I can't just stand by and watch it fall apart."
Their eyes locked for a moment before the doors began closing of their own accord -- her sad face disappearing against his will, as what stood between them finally and completely shut her out.
The End.
Fandom: "Without a Trace"
Characters: Jack Malone, Samantha Spade -- allusions to Martin Fitzgerald and Anne Cassidy.
Prompt: 24. Family.
Word Count: 900.
Rating: PG.
Summary: "I can't just stand by and watch it fall apart."
Author's Notes: Post-ep for "The Road Home."
All in the Family
***
He retrieved the report that had practically been tossed upon his desk. Phone pressed to his ear, he might not have even noticed if he hadn't felt the slight gust of air that always accompanied a quick closing of the door to his office. He was chuckling at something Anne was saying, as he idly flipped through the pages -- filling in the details of the case from the notes provided. Suddenly, he stopped -- finger frozen on one line in particular.
"Samantha," he called, after apologetically, but hastily ending his own call.
She was waiting for the elevator, but didn't even turn around to respond. "Something wrong with my report?"
He hurried over to stand directly in front of her, so she'd be forced to have this conversation. "I think you know the answer."
"Actually, I don't," she replied, her arms folded across her chest. "We found Matt Jameson, which bring up the department's solve rate -- and it was a media-friendly case, which is good PR for the Bureau -- which keeps Washington out of your hair for another day." The elevator arrived, its doors dinging open, and she moved to step inside. "So, no -- I don't see what your problem is."
He stuck his hand out, blocking the doors from closing, as he practically stuck the folder in her face. "Says here you and Agent Fitzgerald went to check out Ramsey. Then your notes indicate only you went to follow up on Ramsey's alibi." He snapped the folder shut, but she didn't flinch. "So, what was he doing while you were looking into Ramsey's alibi, alone?"
"How do you know Martin wasn't with me--" she put an odd emphasis on the last two words-- "and I just didn't write it down."
He gave her a skeptical look, and when she didn't add anything more, he once again flipped open the file. "Because Martin's notes don't indicate he was with you." He echoed her odd emphasis. "The last thing he has for that day is going to see Ramsey." The folder quickly closed once again. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"
The elevator began to groan in protest at being propped open. Dropping his hand, he slipped through the entryway, just as the doors were finally sliding shut.
When her only response was to push the button for the lobby, he reached in front of her and pulled the emergency stop.
Now she was looking at him with amusement. "Tempting." Her voice seemed to falter, slightly. "But I don't think your girlfriend would be too pleased."
"Cut the crap, Sam," he rebuked. "And stop covering for Martin."
"Covering for Martin?" she repeated, incredulously. "I'm covering for you."
He didn't speak for a moment -- trying to make sure he'd heard her correctly. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, irritated. He didn't remember her usually being this cryptic.
She got that exasperated look on her face; it was a look he'd almost forgotten. "He got shot, Jack. A few months later, he got hurt again. He's been coming in late, behaving erratically--" She cut herself off, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Before he'd allowed her words to fully sink in, she continued. "I didn't know either...until today. Only Danny knew, but he covered for all of us." Her voice dropped as she seemed to take a small step closer. "But at least it was because I didn't want to know, not because I didn't care."
"Oh, so now I don't care," he responded, sarcastically.
He wasn't quite expecting her cold smile and exaggerated shrug. "You tell me," she challenged. "Have you been in the field with him lately? Put those profiling skills to work? Have you even talked to him--"
"That's enough," he roared, slamming the file against the wall -- loosing a torrent of pages, which floated harmlessly to the ground. He pressed his forehead to the sidewall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply -- trying to regain some form of control.
When he stepped back, opening his eyes once more, she was staring at him -- the expression on her face inscrutable. Without a word, she simply leaned forward and released the emergency stop button. They rode in silence the rest of the way, standing amidst the flood of loose paper.
The doors opened, and she stepped gingerly into the lobby -- taking special care, it seemed, to step around the mess on the floor as best she could.
Just as the elevator was about to close, she turned around -- and his hand shot out instinctively, blocking the door's path.
"It's just..." she began, glancing down at her hands for a second. "I know Vivian has her own family, and you have...yours..." she trailed off, meaningfully, before taking a breath. "But he's-- they're all my family. This place..." she seemed to be looking for the right words, "it's like my home. It's the only home I've got right now." Then she smiled, as if to lighten the impact of her statement. "And I..."
Once again, the elevator strained against his hand.
"...I can't just stand by and watch it fall apart."
Their eyes locked for a moment before the doors began closing of their own accord -- her sad face disappearing against his will, as what stood between them finally and completely shut her out.
The End.