The Perfect Fit - Jack/Samantha Fanfiction
Title: The Perfect Fit
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Samantha
Summary: Set sometime after Season 2, Samantha is living happily with Jack. During a rare moment alone, she reflects on the men in her past and present.
Author's Notes: Written in memory of Valentino and the Finamore shirts he swore by; because both are missed very much.
Life had become a dizzying vortex of passion and violence in the time since Samantha became a part of Jack's world. During a brief respite when Jack went for cigarettes of which they were nearly out and both now consumed with fervor, Samantha sat at his desk and poked around on his computer. She smiled as image after image of herself in her old life appeared. It felt so distant it was almost as if she were seeing someone else, stalking them as Jack had taught her. Images of her old co-workers and even Tom mingled among the images and she studied them with detached interest.
Two images of Tom appeared side by side, one in life and one in death that had been captured by Jack. A small spot of red marred the white of Tom's shirt in the picture, but the blood didn't disturb her, not anymore. She could remember Tom's shirt, the coarse oxford cloth with the mixture of deodorant, dry cleaning fluid, and the scent of Old Spice from the bottle Chloe gave him clinging to it. Neither Tom nor his shirt were a part of her world anymore.
A picture of John Grant was next and Samantha smiled. Poor John had tried so hard to woo her, never knowing her heart was otherwise engaged. But then, she hadn't known either, not consciously. In the photo he wore a blue dress shirt that was a plain cotton she remembered him often wearing in her time at the VCTF. Her hand brushed it once and the material felt cheap; but in contras itt was scented with designer cologne. His money clearly had gone to his Porsche and cologne where he felt it would impress the most. He too was no longer a part of her life.
Samantha dismissed John and clicked to another image. This time, her old friend and mentor popped up before her. Bailey had written the book on profiling, but his emotions for her had clouded his judgment and ultimately helped her to find her true happiness as she'd luxuriated in her dark office over Jack's file. In the picture Bailey wore a crisp white shirt. She remembered all the times he'd hugged her and tried to console her about Jack. Bailey's shirt had probably come from a men's store. Subtle quality imbued with the scent scent of cigars, a trace of scotch and the earthy cologne he wore on occasion. Aside from his pursing them and vainly trying to convince himself, she was with Jack against her will, Bailey was no longer a part of her life and would be better served to turn his attentions to the sexy medical examiner before she grew tired of waiting.
At the next image, Samantha smiled. Jack appeared before her and smiled his wicked grin that contained cruelty for all but her. She'd snapped the photo before their quiet wedding over the Canadian border. Just as Bailey had in the previous photo, Jack was sporting a white dress shirt. However Jack's shirt was a higher quality. Silky soft cotton, fashioned into a garment by hand in Italy. Old fashioned with it's French cuffs which required cufflinks; tobacco, sandalwood and roses clung almost defiantly to every thread of the vestment. The man who filled her days and nights would be a part of her until her dying breath and sometimes she imagined even beyond.
Samantha stood and started to pace slightly. Even though Jack would return momentarily, she found she missed him during even very short absences. After forcing his way into her life and her heart, Samantha found she felt uneasy when he wasn't with her. Hollowness that had consumed her in her old life, would appear on the edges and fill her with dread when separated from the center of her new life. Occasionally she'd confide to Jack how empty and almost frightened she felt when he wasn't with her, but he promised to always return to her and she knew all would be well in a few more minutes.
At the sound of the door, Samantha's heart leapt and she felt a surge of adrenaline as the comforting figure stepped into view. Throwing herself into his arms, she reveled in the feel of his arms around her. Beneath her cheek, the material of his shirt was soft and she heard his heart move from it's steady beat to a faster pace as she told him she loved him. Embraced by Jack and the scent of roses, she felt at peace. Both man and shirt were the perfect fit. As he held her and she nuzzled his chest contentedly, she knew he would be a part of her always. Sighing happily in Jack's arms, Samantha knew she was home.
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Samantha
Summary: Set sometime after Season 2, Samantha is living happily with Jack. During a rare moment alone, she reflects on the men in her past and present.
Author's Notes: Written in memory of Valentino and the Finamore shirts he swore by; because both are missed very much.
Life had become a dizzying vortex of passion and violence in the time since Samantha became a part of Jack's world. During a brief respite when Jack went for cigarettes of which they were nearly out and both now consumed with fervor, Samantha sat at his desk and poked around on his computer. She smiled as image after image of herself in her old life appeared. It felt so distant it was almost as if she were seeing someone else, stalking them as Jack had taught her. Images of her old co-workers and even Tom mingled among the images and she studied them with detached interest.
Two images of Tom appeared side by side, one in life and one in death that had been captured by Jack. A small spot of red marred the white of Tom's shirt in the picture, but the blood didn't disturb her, not anymore. She could remember Tom's shirt, the coarse oxford cloth with the mixture of deodorant, dry cleaning fluid, and the scent of Old Spice from the bottle Chloe gave him clinging to it. Neither Tom nor his shirt were a part of her world anymore.
A picture of John Grant was next and Samantha smiled. Poor John had tried so hard to woo her, never knowing her heart was otherwise engaged. But then, she hadn't known either, not consciously. In the photo he wore a blue dress shirt that was a plain cotton she remembered him often wearing in her time at the VCTF. Her hand brushed it once and the material felt cheap; but in contras itt was scented with designer cologne. His money clearly had gone to his Porsche and cologne where he felt it would impress the most. He too was no longer a part of her life.
Samantha dismissed John and clicked to another image. This time, her old friend and mentor popped up before her. Bailey had written the book on profiling, but his emotions for her had clouded his judgment and ultimately helped her to find her true happiness as she'd luxuriated in her dark office over Jack's file. In the picture Bailey wore a crisp white shirt. She remembered all the times he'd hugged her and tried to console her about Jack. Bailey's shirt had probably come from a men's store. Subtle quality imbued with the scent scent of cigars, a trace of scotch and the earthy cologne he wore on occasion. Aside from his pursing them and vainly trying to convince himself, she was with Jack against her will, Bailey was no longer a part of her life and would be better served to turn his attentions to the sexy medical examiner before she grew tired of waiting.
At the next image, Samantha smiled. Jack appeared before her and smiled his wicked grin that contained cruelty for all but her. She'd snapped the photo before their quiet wedding over the Canadian border. Just as Bailey had in the previous photo, Jack was sporting a white dress shirt. However Jack's shirt was a higher quality. Silky soft cotton, fashioned into a garment by hand in Italy. Old fashioned with it's French cuffs which required cufflinks; tobacco, sandalwood and roses clung almost defiantly to every thread of the vestment. The man who filled her days and nights would be a part of her until her dying breath and sometimes she imagined even beyond.
Samantha stood and started to pace slightly. Even though Jack would return momentarily, she found she missed him during even very short absences. After forcing his way into her life and her heart, Samantha found she felt uneasy when he wasn't with her. Hollowness that had consumed her in her old life, would appear on the edges and fill her with dread when separated from the center of her new life. Occasionally she'd confide to Jack how empty and almost frightened she felt when he wasn't with her, but he promised to always return to her and she knew all would be well in a few more minutes.
At the sound of the door, Samantha's heart leapt and she felt a surge of adrenaline as the comforting figure stepped into view. Throwing herself into his arms, she reveled in the feel of his arms around her. Beneath her cheek, the material of his shirt was soft and she heard his heart move from it's steady beat to a faster pace as she told him she loved him. Embraced by Jack and the scent of roses, she felt at peace. Both man and shirt were the perfect fit. As he held her and she nuzzled his chest contentedly, she knew he would be a part of her always. Sighing happily in Jack's arms, Samantha knew she was home.