Title: Window

Author: Lauren / Running Up Fawn

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. I couldn't handle them, anyway. I'm again borrowing the title and summary from Guster, this time from "Window".

Author's Note: This is the first in a series of vignettes..I don't really want to call it a WIP. A look into the very beginning of Jack and Samantha; this part is set a few months after Samantha joins the team. Sam's POV, for now. Maple Street...I'm so lucky to be a part of such an incredible forum. Thanks also to Jordan, for the 'series of vignettes' idea.

"Samantha?"

Shit.

Being startled out of a deep sleep is bad enough, but when it's your boss doing the startling...well. I rubbed my eyes furiously, all the while spewing apologies and trying to ignore the ache in my stiff back.

"God, Jack, I'm so sorry..I don't know what happened.." A glance at my watch told me I'd been asleep for over twenty minutes, and I felt a flush spread across my cheeks.

He smiled, his hand resting on the back of my chair.

"I do." Under his warm gaze, I felt some of the shock at being awakened start to drain away. He nodded to the papers I'd been sprawled over just a few minutes ago. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

Half an hour? "Not much," I admitted with a wry smile. "I was going over this stuff pretty late, but still.." Less than four months into the job, and I was already screwing up.

"But nothing," and his voice took on the slightly rough, commanding intonation to which I'd become accustomed over the past weeks. "Don't kill yourself, Samantha. We need you too much." With a nod and that brief, intriguing half smile, he disappeared out of my cubicle.

After a moment, I turned back to the endless display of white and tried to convince myself that my increasing heart rate had nothing to do with my boss. Nothing at all.

"Sam, I need you and Vivian all over the ex-boyfriend. Find out everything he knows, when he saw her last, and why he called her three times the day before she disappeared. Danny, you and I.."

Sam? Where had that come from? Ever since I met Jack, it had been Agent Spade, or, more recently, Samantha. I probably shouldn't have been surprised..he usually called Vivian 'Viv', and Danny..well, Danny, but that was a nickname in itself. Still, Sam..it sounded so casual, and..familiar. Very familiar. My own mother didn't even called me Sam and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it. He looked distracted, I noted as I followed Vivian out of the office. Maybe I would say something later.

Maybe.

"He reminds me of an ex-boyfriend of mine," I commented to Vivian on our return trip to the unit.

"Yeah? How's that?" She gave me a sideways glance before returning her eyes to the road. It was dark, and the streetlights cast a brilliant glare on the shiny, government issued vehicle.

"Needy. Annoying. Weak." I gave a wry shrug.

A brief smirk from the other woman.

"So you don't think he had anything to do with her disappearance?"

"Doubt it. His alibi is solid, and he seems more pathetic than malicious."

"Agreed." Vivian pulled the car into the unit's lot, and turned to me. "Do you mind going over this with Jack?" She nodded to the clock. "I should be getting home.." Her tone was apologetic.

"Not at all." A reassuring smile. "Night, Viv. See you in the morning."

"Good night, Samantha. Make sure you get some rest, okay?"

"Will do."

The FBI building was quiet as I walked through its glass doors, and I wondered when I had become so comfortable here. Through the doors, down the carpeted hallway, a left at the elevator..it was all so routine. I liked that; familiarity mitigated the rookie feeling that was still sometimes all too overwhelming.

The elevator doors slid open, and I made my way through the nearly deserted unit to Jack's office. I knocked softly on the half open door, and, looking up, he motioned me inside.

"Hey, Sam." His words were accompanied by a gesture to the chairs opposite his desk.

Sam again. I could say something, or..

Or I could enjoy and simultaneously try to ignore the slight shiver that raced up my spine when the nickname slipped off his lips.

Tough decision, that one.

"What'd you and Vivian find out?"

I settled into one of the chairs before answering.

"They split up about a month ago. Since then, he's seen her once a week at their sign language class. Apparently, they decided to sign up for the class together, and neither dropped it when the relationship ended. Last time he saw her was at class on Monday night."

"Did he say how she seemed?"

"Said they hadn't really talked much since the breakup, but as far as he could tell, she was fine. He also said he called her three times because he missed her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "He missed her?"

"Yeah, I know it sounds weak, but I think he's telling the truth. His alibi checks out, too..he was helping a friend move."

Jack made a note on the paper in front of him. "Okay. The parents weren't much help, either. The relationship seems very.." A wrinkle creased his forehead as he searched for the right word "..distant, I guess. They haven't seen her for over two weeks, even though she only lives fifteen minutes away."

I nodded. There was a moment of silence, which was probably my cue to exit, but I wasn't ready to leave. I smiled at the pictures adorning Jack's desk.

"Those your daughters?" It was a double frame, containing one picture of little girl a in a yellow basketball uniform, holding a trophy, surrounded by other little girls in identical yellow uniforms, and one picture of another, younger looking girl, wearing huge black sunglasses and a floppy hat much too large for her head. Cute. Very cute.

Jack's tense face relaxed into a genuine smile. "Yeah, that's Kate," he pointed first to the girl in the hat and sunglasses, "and Hanna."

"They're adorable. That must have been some game." I couldn't help grinning at the relaxed pride I saw on Jack's face.

"It was just a summer league, you know?" He smiled, and I thought I detected a wistful note in his tone. "They treated it like the Final Four, though..parents, kids, and coaches. Hanna was so nervous for the championship game, but she played great..made some wild shot in the last few seconds. The score ended up being six to four, or something like that." He lifted his eyes from the picture, and I was stunned to discover the barriers normally so rigidly in place in those dark eyes had fallen away.

"Where does she get her athletic skills from?" I didn't know why, but I was desperate to stay in this office, and talk with him about something other than cell phone records, money trails, and leads.

Jack snorted. "Not from me. I didn't even like gym class. Marie, my wife..she played volleyball all through high school, and during her first years in college. I'm guessing she passed her athletic prowess onto Hanna." He looked at me curiously. "Any sports for you?"

I smiled as a wave of memories coursed through me. "Field hockey and softball. I loved them both, but especially softball."

"Yeah? What position?"

"Third base, mostly. Sometimes I hung out in center field."

"Really." He leaned back, regarding me with an air of something I couldn't quite figure out. "I would have taken you for a shortstop."

"Why's that?"

His dark eyes pinned me to my chair; I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to, which I didn't. In that moment, something passed between us..something palpable, but unidentifiable..something deeper than I was willing to go.

For now.

Jack broke the stare first, shrugging as a grin quirked on his lips. "No real reason."

I shook my head, surprised as a peal of bemused laughter bubbled over. Maybe my exhaustion was making me giddy.

Yeah, that was it.

Jack glanced at his watch before turning back to me.

"It's getting late. You better get some rest." It was a dismissal that didn't feel like one, a teasing tone supported by an undercurrent of genuine concern.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't think my back can handle sleeping in that chair again, anyway." I stood, offering a soft smile. "Good night, Jack."

"Night, Sam. See you tomorrow."

Just like that, the nickname was as natural as the corridor I turned down, as natural as the elevator I rode to the ground floor, as natural as the glass doors I walked through once again.

As natural as falling asleep with his face etched across my mind.

Yeah.

Natural.

TBC..