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Feb 9, 2010, 10:14am

::|::Destined::|:: :: Martin & Sam / Without a Trace :: Fanfiction :: Inside These Walls

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spyglass
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Inside These Walls
« Thread Started on Nov 7, 2007, 11:48pm »

Title: Inside These Walls
Author: spyglass (Grace) and meredith01 (Greer)
Disclaimer: It’s all Frankenstein’s fault.
Rating: R. Definitely R. Strong adult themes.
Spoilers: Through Endgame/Showdown. Because everything that happened afterwards is a figment of someone else’s overactive imagination.
Summary: How well do you really know your neighbors?

Notes: You may or may not actually want to know the lengthy details of how we arrived at this plot as there were a few too many horror movie references. But since the powers that be don’t seem to be interested in writing Without a Trace’s version of “Arcadia” we are taking matters into our own hands.

Furthermore, Greer would like me to add that our joint effort is the beginning of another legendary pairing... much like Lennon & McCartney or Jagger & Richards… (or, say, Abbott & Costello, which may or may not be more accurate). History is being made here, people!

chapter one

xxx

say you'll talk and i won’t mind
if there’s a cause you know i’ll never try
and i love you like the one i used to know
and if you never had the time
that’s an ordinary problem
and i said i’d like to have a place to go
--Pete Yorn, “Undercover”

xxx

Sam peered curiously around her as she pulled into the driveway and parked alongside the silver Honda Pilot that Martin was driving for their assignment. She shifted gears into ‘park’ and quickly opened the car door to hop out. Her feet landed on the paved driveway and she looked around, trying to take it all in.

She walked down the length of the driveway and turned around, glancing up and down the street. Every house on the street was carefully modeled to look the picture of the front cover of a home and garden magazine; not even a blade of grass seemed to be out of place. Somerset Lane was a quiet street towards the back of Westchester County’s premier gated community, Somerset Village, and it looked every bit the picture-perfect community that was advertised. The late September sunlight cast a calm glow around the crisp reds, yellows, and oranges of the deciduous life, the leaves all changing colors to reflect the coming change in seasons. It was unusually warm for September this year, but Sam shivered in spite of the soft pink sweater she wore.

“Hello!”

Sam spun around quickly as she heard a sugary-sweet voice call out in greeting. A petite brunette approached with her right hand outstretched. The woman’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a white polo shirt and tennis skirt, a racquet bag slung carefully over her shoulder. As Sam took in the woman’s pale skin, she noticed the excessive amounts of makeup she was wearing for a woman who had obviously just returned from some kind of athletic activity.

“I’m Elizabeth Small,” the woman smiled pleasantly as Sam shook her hand, hiding her silent bemusement at the woman’s very appropriate surname. “And you must be Mrs. O’Connor.”

Sam did a quick double take before returning the woman’s smile. “Samantha O’Connor,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Small.”

“Oh, please! Everyone calls me Lizzie!” the woman laughed, shifting the racquet bag to her other shoulder. “We are going to be next door neighbors after all!” she said, her voice rapid and eager. “I was just on my way back from the club where I was playing tennis with Norah Thomas -- she lives the next street over on Bayside Court -- and I noticed that you were finally moving in, so I said to myself ‘I just have to go over there and meet them!’”

Sam tilted her head to one side, casually trying to get a read on her new neighbor. “Well, I’m just getting here myself,” she explained. “My husband has been here for a few hours now with the moving crew, but I had to run a quick errand in the city before coming over.”

Sam motioned back towards the front door of her new home just as Martin came walking out the door alongside of Mac from tech, who was dressed as a member of the moving crew. Martin and Mac were deep in conversation, but Martin glanced up and caught her eye, waving in their direction.

Sam waved back and smiled, then turned to face Lizzie Small again. “That’s my husband, Martin.”

“Handsome man,” Lizzie remarked off-handedly. Her comment struck Sam the wrong way, and she tried to play it off. After all, it was the truth: Martin was an extremely attractive man, and it would be unusual for any red-blooded woman not to notice. “Anyway, my husband Max and I live just next door in #10, and we wanted to invite you over for dinner as soon as possible. We are so excited to finally have some new neighbors moving in next door; the people who used to live there were such a drag!”

Sam chuckled with Lizzie, although more because the last time she heard the phrase “such a drag” was from one of the high school-aged camp counselors they interviewed on a case just a few weeks ago. It was Vivian’s first case back after her surgery, and Danny and Martin had teased both her and Vivian incessantly about the trivial, flighty nature of high school girls.

It had been a wonderful feeling to simply have the whole team back together again after the events of a few months ago, from the bitter end of her romantic relationship with Martin to Vivian’s heart condition and surgery to Danny and Martin being ambushed and shot. Though Danny got away with a few scraps and abrasions, Martin spent several days in intensive care before he even woke up after his surgery. It was only after she nearly lost him for good that she realized just how important a part of her life he had become, and she vowed upon visiting him in the hospital that she would make a real effort to repair their fractured friendship.

At first he had been extremely wary of her intentions, but she persisted in her efforts and had been rewarded. They were friends now just as they had been before she invited him to share a cab with her that fateful night she thought Jack was moving to Chicago and, even though she often wished she could rewind the last year of her life and do it over, she was content to settle for Martin’s friendship.

“Do you two have plans for tonight after the movers leave?” Lizzie asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and showing off the diamond studs she wore. “I mean, I know that you probably just want to relax together, but I’m sure you don’t have the time and energy to cook anything and you don’t have any help here yet...” Lizzie began, her lips moving like rapid fire. “If you wanted to, you could come on over around 6:30. Desiree can always add a few more plates to the table, and the rest of us are dying to meet you and your husband.”

Sam hesitated momentarily. Her preference would be to stay in that evening with Martin and go over all of the information they had compiled on the case thus far, but their primary purpose for going undercover was to scope out the neighbors and get a feel for possible suspects, and having dinner with them in a casual setting would give them a head start on their investigation. “I’ll have to talk to Martin, but that sounds great,” she replied. “Do you want me to let you know when we decide?”

Lizzie shook her head. “Don’t you worry about it, Samantha. We’ll see you later on.”

Sam waved goodbye and turned around to walk back up the length of the driveway, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at their new ‘neighbor.’ Already it was clear to Sam that this assignment would require far more social energy than she preferred to expend.

Up ahead, she saw Martin helping Brendan Fellows from the Violent Crimes team that was working with their team on the investigation. They were lifting a box from the moving van to the driveway, and she saw Martin grab at his lower back as soon as they set the box down. His back and hip were still bothering him from the shooting, and even though he was physically cleared to return to field work, she hoped he wasn’t pushing himself too hard too fast.

She took one last lingering look at the mailbox marked “12 Somerset Lane, The O’Connor’s” and briskly walked back up the driveway.

Martin looked up and smiled broadly at her as she approached. Leaving Brendan Fellows with the other agents as the acting ‘moving crew’ and walking to meet her, he smirked and said, “Welcome home, honey.”

Sam felt a pleasant, familiar warmth spread as he took her hand in his. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she replied cheekily, deciding that if he was going to insist on teasing her, she was going to give as good as she got.

“Did you get that errand done?” he asked.

“I did.” She gave a quick nod of her head and elaborated. “I got stuck in traffic heading out of the city, but it was no problem.”

He tilted his head to the side in curiosity. “Are you going to tell me what you were doing?” he prompted.

She shook her head. “You’re just going to have to wait and see.” She grinned teasingly, remembering the package that sat hidden under the driver’s seat of her car.

“Oh, is that how this marriage is going to work?”

She laughed. “Did you ever have any doubts, Marty?” she teased, quietly pleased when his face flushed as she used his family’s pet name.

He coughed to clear his throat and motioned back to the end of the driveway. “What were you and the Stepford wife talking about just now?” he asked, suddenly reverting back to his all-business mode.

Sam hesitated for a moment, reminding herself that they were on an undercover assignment. “Oh, that,” she said, pausing for effect as she smirked. When she knew she had his undivided attention, she proclaimed, “We have dinner plans.”

He laughed, dropping her hand as he headed to the front walkway and back to the house.

She fell in step just behind him, twisting the platinum wedding band she wore absent-mindedly, and thought to herself that this assignment might not be so bad after all.

xxx