Part Five

A few hours later, dinner was over and Sam, Chloe and John settled down to watch a movie. "What did you rent?" Chloe asked, looking up at John.

Pressing play on the remote, John pointed at Sam. "I didn't pick it out, your mom did."

"Well, Mom?" Chloe asked, glancing over at her mother.

"Well," Sam started. "I know how much you used to talk about Leo," she said with a wink. "And since John made me watch Star Wars . . ."

Chloe grinned. "You're going to make him watch Titanic?"

"You still like it, right?" Sam asked, hoping she had picked a movie Chloe would enjoy. When Chloe smiled and nodded, Sam laughed. "Good, I was worried that I'd messed up."

"Titanic?" John asked a minute later. "You didn't tell me it was another chick flick." He whined, rolling his eyes. However, the effect was lost when he started grinning.

Sam smiled, and laid her head on his shoulder after he put his arm around her shoulders. "I liked Star Wars," she said. "You never know, you might like this."

"I'm not so sure about that." 

***

Two weeks after Sam came back from Nebraska was Christmas. For John, the holidays had never been a very big deal. This year, however, Sam was determined to see that they had a traditional family Christmas.

On Christmas Eve, John accompanied Sam and Chloe to Christmas mass. It was the first time since before his mom had died that he went to a holiday service. In a way, it made him feel more of a connection to her. After the mass, they went back to the house.

"What do you want for Christmas, John?" Chloe asked as she helped him secure the stockings on the wall above the fireplace.

John grinned, playing it straight. "Maybe a girlfriend?"

"John," Chloe exaggerated. "You already have one of those."

"Oh yeah, almost forgot." He winked at Chloe, causing her to giggle. "So, what did you ask for?"

"Well," Chloe said, practically hopping from foot to foot. "There's this giant stuffed teddy bear at the mall that I showed Mom."

Kneeling down in front of Chloe, John laughed. "I've seen your room, kiddo. Do you really need another teddy bear?"

"But he's bigger than I am!" Chloe exclaimed, holding her arms out to the sides.

Laughing, John glanced at the fire and stood. "Hey, Chlo, would you get my coat out of the closet? I need to go get some more firewood."

Nodding, Chloe skipped over to the closet just off of the living room. John grinned when she gasped after opening the door. "John, come look!" Pointing inside the closet excitedly.

"What is it?" he asked, hurrying over. "A burglar?"

"It's my bear!" she exclaimed, struggling to remove the large bear from the closet.

John walked up behind her and helped her remove the bear. Once they had it free, Chloe wrapped her arms around it. "I wonder how he got here?"

Grinning, Chloe turned and threw her arms around John's waist, giving him a hug. "Thank you, John. It's the best present ever!"

Returning her hug, John ruffled her hair. "So I did good then?" When Chloe nodded, still smiling, John added, "Now let's just hope I don't get in trouble for giving him to you tonight instead of tomorrow."

As John watched, Chloe managed to maneuver the bulky bear over beside the large fir Christmas tree. "I'll leave him here for tonight," she said once he was in place. "That way, Mom can't complain."

"That way Mom can't complain about what?" Sam asked, walking into the living room carrying three mugs of hot chocolate.

Taking one of the glasses from Sam, John grinned. "That she managed to sneak one present early."

Handing the other mug to Chloe, Sam finally saw the teddy bear. "Wow, Chlo. He's a monster."

"Isn't it great?" she asked, her face beaming. "It's just like the one I showed you, too."

"Imagine that," Sam said quietly, her half-smile hidden behind her mug. Stealing a glance at John, she gestured toward the bear, and in return he merely shrugged and smiled.

Later, after Chloe was tucked away in bed, Sam and John curled up on the couch. "So what have you thought of Christmas so far?" Sam asked over the soft Christmas music that was playing on the stereo.

"I think it's great," John said, kissing Sam on the top of the head.

Smiling, Sam said, "I'm glad. I know Chloe is loving all of the extra attention."

"So am I, believe, me," he laughed softly. "This beats last year's sitting at home watching the Disney parade by a landslide."

Sam turned to face John. "You watched the Disney parade?"

"Okay, so I was watching football," he admitted, with a grin. "The other sounded better."

Laying her head back down, she smiled. "Yes, but that sounds much more like you." After a moment's pause, she asked, "How did you know about the bear?"

"You don't mind do you?" he asked, having not mentioned it to her before buying it for Chloe.

Sam shook her head. "No, I just don't remember mentioning it."

John rubbed his hand on Sam's hair absently. "You didn't, I overheard her saying something to you about it." Laughing, he continued, "The clerk at the toy store thought I was crazy, it took almost an hour to make sure I had the right bear."

Sam smiled, touched by John's gesture towards Chloe. "We're lucky to have you, you know," she said softly.

"Not as lucky as I am. Besides," he continued, "I loved seeing her reaction to finding it in the closet."

"I know. I heard her from the kitchen."

John smiled. "Good acting job."

"Well," she said, taking one of John's hands in her own. "I've had years of practice."

At her words, spoken innocently enough, John felt a twinge in his stomach. Years were something he had begun to doubt he would have a chance to enjoy. In fact, he forced himself to admit, he was doing his best to commit the entire holiday to memory. There was no way to know if there would be another chance.

***

Instead of the two more months that the doctor had predicted, it was just over a month later when John heard the words he had been dreading. Two weeks after Christmas, everything changed.

"It's time to move on and start the chemotherapy," Doctor Thompson said during John's weekly visit. "You've reached the point I was waiting for."

John nodded slowly, but his mind was running a mile a minute in denial. "You said four months, it's only been three."

The doctor shook his head, and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. "I was hoping it would be closer to four months, John. It's just progressed faster than I initially anticipated." John swallowed audibly, but just stared at his hands. "As you asked, I've looked into treatment centers outside of Atlanta."

"What did you find?" John asked, forcing himself to sit up straight and face it head on. The week before, he had made a preliminary decision to look into leaving Atlanta for the chemotherapy. He was hoping to spare Sam having to suffer through it as well. He had never expected to need it so soon.

Doctor Thompson picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to John. "There are several options on there, but the one I would recommend is in Buffalo, New York."

"How soon would I have to leave?" he asked, reading the information about the Tucker Treatment Center in Buffalo.

During his checkups, Doctor Thompson had begun to realize what was happening with John, and looked understandingly at the young man. "It's Thursday now. I would recommend that you check in at Tucker by this time next week. I've spoken with them already and I'll make sure that they know to expect you then."

John nodded, just finishing skimming the information about Tucker. "Thank you, Doctor."

"How will you arrange it with your work? The treatment will probably several weeks at the least."

Folding the paper he carefully put it in his jacket pocket. "I have quite a bit of vacation time, I'll just call in a few favors and use it."

Nodding, Doctor Thompson stood. "I wish you the best, Agent Grant."

John shook the doctor's offered hand. "Thanks again for your help," John said sincerely. With that, he turned and walked out of the office.

An hour later, he was at his seldom used apartment making plans for the weekend.

***

After dinner that night, while they were washing the dishes, John finally worked up the nerve to approach Sam about the weekend. "Sam?" he asked her, drying a plate. When she glanced at him, he continued. "What would you say to going up to my cabin for the weekend?"

Sam half-smiled. "What brought this up?" she asked, handing him another plate.

Shrugging, John busied himself drying the plate. "I thought it would be fun. A chance for the three of us to get away from the city for a day or two."

"Sounds nice." She smiled. "Considering the last time you took me to the cabin," she said with a wink.

Reaching over, John put the plate on a shelf, grinning. "Well, I can't guarantee quite that atmosphere."

"Just as well," she laughed. "You probably would burn the place down this time."

Finished with the dishes, Sam and John walked into the living room. "So do you want to drive up after work?" Sam asked, sitting down next to Chloe.

Nodding, John sat next to Sam. "That was my thought."

"Drive up where?" Chloe asked, her curiosity piqued.

"What do you say to a weekend at John's cabin, Chlo?" Sam asked, brushing a lock of hair out of Chloe's eyes.

Chloe's face brightened. "Really? Can we go stargazing?"

John nodded. "Sure we can."

"Great," Chloe said with a grin. "We've been studying some of the constellations in school."

"Then you'll probably be able to teach John a thing or two," Sam joked, winking at John.

John laughed. "You're just worried you'll be embarrassed if you're the only one who doesn't know any."

"How long will we be there?" Chloe asked.

"Till Sunday afternoon," John replied, ruffling her hair. "Then you have to come back to school."

"Do you have a telescope?" Chloe asked, suddenly full of questions.

Nodding, John said, "Sure do."

Suddenly Chloe frowned. "Do we really have to wait until tomorrow?"

"'Fraid so, kid," Sam responded with a grin.

***

It was not quite dusk when John pulled the car to a stop in front of the cabin. "Everybody out," he said, killing the engine.

Chloe was the first out of the car, her door slamming behind her. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she ran up to the porch. "Neat cabin, John," she said, waiting for him to unlock the door.

"Thanks." John held the door open for Chloe and Sam.

Walking inside, Sam laughed. "Wow, there's so much light in here."

"Yeah," he said with a wink. "Good ole Thomas Edison, huh?"

Sam smiled, and gave John a kiss on the cheek. "Between him and Grace I'd say we're set either way." Turning, she saw Chloe on the far side of the living room look out at the lake. "Come on, Chlo. Let's go put these bags up."

"I can do that," John said, reaching out a hand.

Sam shook her head. "I've got it. You go make dinner."

"Me? Cook?" John asked, holding a hand against his chest in shock. "You think I know how?"

"Hey, we're roughing it," Sam said with a laugh as she disappeared into the bedroom. "That means you're cooking."

"Gee, thanks," he said with a laugh, as he walked into the kitchen.

Later that night, the three of them were laying on a blanket on a stretch of grass near the cabin. "What's that one?" John asked, pointing at a group of stars with his free arm. Chloe was had her head laying on his chest, while Sam's head was pillowed on his other shoulder.

Chloe thought for a minute. "Draco, I think."

"The dragon," Sam observed sleepily.

"How'd you know?" Chloe asked.

John laughed. "She saw Dragonheart is my bet."

Sam yawned, but didn't respond. "There's Orion," Chloe said, pointing at a particular grouping in the sky.

"That one I knew," John said. "I remember learning about that one when I was your age."

"A long time ago?" Chloe asked with a giggle.

"I'll teach you about a long time ago," John said, laughing as he tickled Chloe, who giggled helplessly.

***

Chloe had been asleep for almost an hour and Sam was sitting in front of the fireplace when she noticed that John hadn't returned from going to the bathroom. Curious, she stood up and walked back toward the bedrooms.

She found him standing in the doorway to the room that Chloe had claimed. Putting her arm around his waist, she whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Just watching." 

When he didn't elaborate, she looked up into his face. "You look like you're a million miles away."

He smiled as he shook his head. "I'm right where I want to be," he said, and kissed the top of her head. "For some reason, I just wanted to watch her sleep."

"I used to do that all the time when she was little," Sam said. "Partly to be sure she was okay. And partly to make a memory . . ." She paused. "Watching her, I guess so that if anything ever happened and I couldn't be with her, I had one perfect image of her in my mind. Laying there, with a smile on her face and clutching that worn teddy bear. It probably sounds strange."

John shook his head imperceptibly. "It makes perfect sense. I just would have never understood it until now."

"Why's that?" she asked, her gaze still on Chloe so that she missed the rush of emotions that filled his eyes before he closed them.

Because that's what I'm doing, he thought, When I'm in hell, this will be one of the things I remember. Instead of saying this, however, he just said, "I've never been a parent, Sam, or anything close to one. Believe it or not," he said, laughing dryly, "this is a dry run."

Sam smiled, and leaned up to kiss John. Pulling back afterward, she whispered, "Then you're a natural." Reaching out, she pulled the door to Chloe's room shut. Taking John's hand, she led him back into the den.

"Penny for your thoughts," John said, after they had been in the den for a little while.

Sam smiled softly. "I was just thinking how great the past few months have been."

John smiled bitter sweetly. He found himself wanting to agree with her, and yet not able to completely. Every trip to see Doctor Thompson, the constant worry that the next time it would be time to leave had been draining him for some time. It had also been getting harder to hide it at work.

The last time he had been forced to chase down a fleeing suspect, he had almost given himself away. He was as good of a cop as ever, only now he got tired more and more easily, lost his breath more easily. If anyone had noticed, they didn't say anything. He was still glad that Grace hadn't been there.

Unsure how to respond, he finally managed to say in a rough voice, "Bet you never expected that when you offered to cut my hair."

Laughing quietly, Sam shook her head. "Probably not. But I would have been a lot more open to the idea then, rather than when we first met."

"Yeah, but you were pretty tightly wound at the time. You had to warm up to me first."

"Well, you definitely help me unwind," she kidded, her eyes blinking more and more slowly.

John squeezed her hand. "All part of the service."

***

The next day was a sunny, crisp winter day. Dressed in sweaters and jackets, they hiked out into the woods surrounding the cabin. Over the next several hours they pushed through the foliage and watched the animals, which hadn't retreated for the brief southern winter, play in the forest.

"Hey, kiddo," John said on the hike back. "Want to ride on my shoulders for a little while?"

"Sure!" she said, excitedly.

Sam glanced at John. "Are you sure? She's heavier than she looks."

"Sure I'm sure," he said, kneeling down so that Chloe could climb up on his back. "Ready?" he asked once she was settled.

Chloe nodded, and started giggling. "Giddy-up."

"What am I? A horse?" he asked, laughing as he walked.

"A very good looking one, anyway," Sam interjected, grinning.

Shaking his head, John muttered, "Tag teaming against me now, I swear."

"Would we do that to you?" Sam managed to stay straight-faced. When John opened his mouth, she interrupted him. "Wait, don't answer that." Chloe, for her part, started giggling again.

A little while later, John stopped walking and said. "Okay, kiddo. The horse stops here."

"Already?" she asked, having a good time riding on John's shoulders.

"Sorry, little one. I'm beat," he said truthfully, hiding the true extent of the comment behind a grin.

As Chloe climbed down from John's shoulders, Sam watched, surprised by how tired John really did look. Full of energy, Chloe ran ahead of them through the woods. Taking the opportunity, Sam walked next to John. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he lied. Taking her hand, he watched Chloe running ahead. "Why do you ask?"

Sam shrugged. "You just look tired, that's all."

"Nah," he said with a shake of his head. "Just needed a break."

Sam nodded, although not completely convinced, she let it drop. Glancing ahead in the forest, she laughed. "I think Chloe has left us behind."

"Wouldn't surprise me," John said, grinning. "She's got more energy than the two of us combined."

***

"Who wants steak?" John asked. They had been back at the cabin for a couple of hours, and it was almost dinner time.

Chloe looked up from where she was playing with a jump rope. "You don't have chicken?" she asked. John opened his mouth, but saw the twinkle in her eye. "Gotcha." Giggling, she added, "I like steak."

"Kiddo," John laughed, "you've got a twisted sense of humor."

Sam, having walked up toward the end of the conversation rolled her eyes. "Gee, wonder where she picked it up from?"

"Are you saying that I could be that influence?" John asked, a look of innocence on his face.

Laughing, Sam shook her head. "Just cook the steaks."

For John, the weekend, as with the past few months, passed too quickly. Before he knew it, they were tucking Chloe in that Saturday night. It had become a habit for both of them to tuck her in, and John had found himself looking forward to it, especially on bad days.

"I love you, kiddo," John whispered, leaning over to kiss Chloe on the tip of the nose.

Chloe giggled, like she always did when John kissed her on the nose, and grinned. "Love you, too."

"'Night, Chlo," Sam said, tucking the covers in around her. "Sweet dreams."

"'Night, Mom. Love you," Chloe replied, her eyes drooping closed.

Sam smiled. "I love you too, baby," she said before taking John's hand and quietly leaving the room. Pulling the door closed behind them, she asked, "Want to go sit on the deck?"

John put his arm around her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan." They were almost to the door when stopped. "Go on out, I'll be there in a minute." Sam looked at him, a puzzled look in her eyes, but went outside anyway. 

A minute later, he appeared on the deck, carrying a portable radio. "Thought we might like some music," he said as he plugged in the radio.

A second later, music drifted quietly through the night. Sitting down next to Sam on a bench, John put his arm back around her shoulders. "I'm glad we came here," Sam said, looking at the stars that filled the sky overhead. "You don't get scenery like this in the city."

"A good thing about being in the middle of nowhere," John said with a grin. "You realize that there are more than four stars out there."

Sam tilted her head to the side, thinking. "You know what we've never done?"

With a faint grin on his face, John asked, "What would that be?"

"We've never danced," she said, smiling. "Every couple should dance, John. It's in the rules."

"Rules?" John asked, fighting the urge to laugh.

Sam pulled on John's hand. "You know, that book no one reads. What do you say?"

John smiled, standing, he held out his hand. "May I have this dance?" After Sam stood, and they were swaying arm in arm, John grinned. "You're not subtle, are you?"

"Sometimes subtlety is overrated." 

Sam was resting her cheek on his shoulder when he felt her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked.

He felt her nod. "A little bit."

"Just a second," John said, breaking free of the embrace. "I'll get you a blanket." When he returned, he was carrying an afghan. "Here you go." Unfolding it, he pulled it around her shoulders. "Better?"

"Much," she said, wrapping her arms back around his waist.

Leaning forward, John kissed the top of Sam's head. "Good." For the next few moments, neither said anything. The music continued to play in the background, but the two people on the deck were oblivious to anything but each other.

Neither knew how much time had passed when Sam lifted her head from John's chest. In a moment, their eyes met. John leaned down and their lips met in a soft kiss.

Sam reached her hands up to the collar of John's shirt, and his hands circled her waist as the kiss deepened. The afghan fell from Sam's shoulders onto the bench, unnoticed.

When they broke away from the kiss, both Sam and John were breathing hard. John reached a hand up to cup Sam's face, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheekbone. John's gaze searched Sam's smoky eyes, wanting to remember the way the light from inside made the blue shine. "Sam . . ." he said, before she pulled his head down to hers.

Unlike the last kiss, this one was intense and left both of them gasping for air. "For once, John," Sam said, "I don't want to think."

A faint smile on his lips, John held her chin in both his hands and kissed her on the forehead. "You're beautiful, do you know that?" he whispered in her ear.

In response, she laughed. "I like your taste." Wrapping her hands around the back of his head, she started kissing his jawbone.

"Are you sure about this?" John asked, trying with what little will he had left to keep things from getting out of hand.

"John? Shut up and kiss me."

With a grin, he replied, "Yes, ma'am."

A few moments later, John lowered them down onto the stuffed bench. Their eyes closed, both lost themselves in the moment.

Sometime later, when the moon was high in the sky, John and Sam lay on the bench wrapped up in the once-forgotten afghan. Sam, her hair splayed against John's bare chest, sighed softly in her sleep, a small smile on her face.

While Sam slept, John lay there watching her. One hand was playing with her hair, while the other rubbed across her back. He listened as she breathed steadily, and watched as her eyes darted under the lids and knew her to be lost in dreams.

As he lay there, he thought of being forced to leave in a few days. Emotions that he'd only felt when his mom had been killed tore at his heart. Leaning down, he kissed the top of Sam's head and brushed away the tear that had rolled down his cheek and onto her hair. 

For every thought that went through his mind as he held her, the only one that stayed with him was what Sam had said the night before about making a memory. Because for a brief moment, his life had finally found a peace it had always lacked.

***

The next morning, the pink of dawn was just beginning to streak across the sky when Sam roused from sleep. "Good morning," he said, kissing her gently.

"Good morning." Looking down, she smiled. "I'm guessing Chloe isn't up yet."

John laughed softly. "She's as bad at mornings as I am. Much less getting up at dawn." Giving Sam the afghan, John reached over and grabbed his blue jeans and pulled them on. Winking, he said, "But either way we better get dressed."

Sam nodded, and stood, the afghan wrapped around her. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed John. "What was that for?" he asked with a smile.

"Just because," she said with a wink before gathering her clothes and disappearing inside the cabin. John watched her walk inside before following her. First he ducked into the bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes before changing in the bathroom. Then he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

When Sam walked into the kitchen, she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. "The coffee smells good," she said, taking an offered cup from John.

"Coffee I can manage," he grinned, taking a drink. A second later, he asked, "Care to watch the sunrise?"

Sam smiled. "I'd love to."

They walked outside and found a spot next to the cabin where they could see through the forest. Over the next few moments, the sun peeked above the rolling foothills of the Appalachians.

They had only been back from watching the sunrise for an half an hour when Sam heard Chloe stirring in her bedroom. "I think someone else is finally awake," she said with a grin.

"Bound to have happened eventually," John joked from the kitchen, where he was busy scrambling eggs for breakfast. A few minutes later, Chloe walked into the kitchen. "Morning, kiddo."

"Hi," she said around a yawn. Walking over to the table, Chloe sat down in one of the wood chairs. "What's for breakfast?"

John grinned. "Scrambled eggs and toast."

"The only thing you can make!" Chloe giggled, slowly becoming more awake.

Finishing the toast, John grinned as he muttered, "Boy, you give and you give and what do you get . . ."

"Breakfast?" Chloe asked with a coy grin on her face.

Surprised by her remark, John laughed and dropped the piece of toast he was fixing. Picking up the ruined toast, he pretended to hand it to Chloe. "I think this is your piece."

"John . . ." she said, laughing.

John laughed. "You're right. We'll give it to your mom."

Chloe was giggling when Sam walked in the room. "Whatever you two were planning, forget about it," she said, smiling.

"What do you mean planning?" John asked, straight-faced.

She pointed at Chloe. "I know that giggle. It means trouble." She laughed. "Strange how it happens so much more when you're around."

"I know," John said, sniffing and pretending to wipe his eye. "I'm so proud."

***

That afternoon, they drove back home. It wasn't quite dark when they arrived at the house, and Chloe went down the street to play with a friend. After John carried their bags inside, he made the decision that he had been dreading all weekend.

"Sam?" he asked, walking into the living room. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Sam looked up when John spoke, and nodded her head. "Always."

John sat down on the couch and motioned for her to do the same. He waited until she had sat down before saying, "I wanted to tell you that tomorrow I'm going to talk to Bailey about taking some time off."

Sam looked at him, her confusion showing on her face. "Time off? Why?"

"There's just some stuff I need to do." 

"Stuff . . ." Sam repeated, not understanding. John mentally cringed at the hurt he saw flicker in her eyes.

He nodded his head. "It's a long story."

"I've got time." 

"It's just something I have to do on my own," he finished, hating the pain he saw in her eyes.

Sam's gaze searched John's eyes, trying to read what was going on there. Angel's words from several months ago came rushing back. She shook her head, not willing to believe that he was running away. "You can't tell me what it's about?" she asked, needing to know what could make him so serious and willing to leave.

"Sorry, Sam. It's just . . ."

"Something you have to do on your own," she finished for him. "You said that."

John nodded, fighting the urge to crawl under the couch. "It may take a little while, Sam," he said, squeezing her hand. "But I'll be back."

Sam didn't move. "Then why do I see doubt in your eyes?"

John blinked and bit his lip. Because I can only hope that's true, he thought. Out loud, he said, "Never doubt how I feel about you. And about Chloe. The two of you have become my entire world."

"But you're leaving anyway?" she asked, hating the rare vulnerability she could hear in her voice.

John lowered his gaze and nodded. "I have to."

***

During the morning briefing, Sam was more subdued than usual. John, sitting next to her, managed not to move during the entire meeting. On the other side of the table, both Grace and George noticed the difference.

After the meeting was over, Grace stayed behind to talk to George. "What do you think happened?" George asked, watching Sam walk to her office and close the door behind her.

"I've got an idea," Grace said, her eyes sad. "But it's too soon."

"Too soon for what?" George asked, looking up at Grace, who was watching John walk toward Bailey's office.

Grace shook her head. "Nothing. They probably just had a misunderstanding."

"Them?" George asked with a laugh. "Doesn't seem very likely, does it?"

"I guess not," Grace said, watching John disappear inside Bailey's office. She turned to George, and forced a smile. "Either way, nothing stays secret around this place for long, does it?" Even as she spoke, she knew of one secret that had managed to stay hidden far too long.

"Ain't that the truth," George said, typing on his computer.

Grace didn't respond, she was lost in thought. She did the math in her head and knew the two months John had told her about weren't up yet. Still, a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that was the case.

"Earth to Grace." George waved a hand in front of her face.

"Sorry?" she asked, blinking and focusing on George.

Shaking his head, he replied, "Nothing. You were just on another planet there for a minute."

"Just thinking about something." She closed the folders that were open in front of her. "I'm going to go see if Sam will tell me what's bothering her."

George nodded, a half-grin on his face. "Go for it, for once they know something before we do."

***

A few minutes later, Grace knocked on Sam's door. "Can I come in?" she asked after pushing the door open.

Sam looked up from the papers she was trying to make herself read, and sighed. Grateful for the distraction, she waved her in. "Sure. Just close the door behind you."

Grace walked over and leaned against the edge of Sam's desk. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam half-smiled. "You noticed?"

"Chip in Processing noticed," she kidded lightly before growing serious. "I thought you were going to the cabin this weekend?"

"We did," Sam said, nodding.

"So what went wrong?"

Fidgeting with her pen, Sam replied, "Nothing. The weekend was great."

"Until?" Grace pressed.

"Until last night." Sam dropped the pen on her desk. "And bang, he dropped a bomb on me."

Grace nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "That he's leaving."

Sam nodded, but jerked her attention to Grace when she realized what she had said. "How did you know?"

"Just a guess," she said, trying to cover her slip. "Did he say why?"

Sam shook her head. "Just that it was something he had to do, and that he would be back."

"Do you believe him?" Grace asked, a sad look on her face.

After a pause, Sam replied. "I want to, Grace. In a way, I need to."

When Grace left Sam's office, she saw John walking from Bailey's office back to his desk. Before he could get there, she intercepted him. "Can I speak to you in my office?" she asked, careful to keep her voice low and stay out of Sam's line of sight.

John nodded, well aware of what was coming.

She waited until John had closed the door behind them to speak. "I'm guessing Doctor Thompson said it was time?" she asked softly.

Nodding, John sat down on the worn couch that lined one wall. "I found out last Thursday."

"What happened to two more months?" Grace asked, concerned.

John shrugged. "It's going faster than he expected."

"And this weekend? What was that?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against her desk.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly before responding. "One last taste of perfect, I suppose."

Grace found herself fighting the moisture that wanted to build up in her eyes. "Why don't you tell her, John?" The anger that she had been building since the meeting was dissipating into concern for her friends.

"Because," he said, standing up and pacing in the small office. "If everything works out, I come back in a while and beg her to forgive me for disappearing. And if not . . ."

"If not, then she doesn't have to suffer, too?" Grace asked. She remembered their last conversation well. When he nodded, she continued, "That's as much bull now as it was before, John. She needs to help you as much as you're going to need her."

"Grace . . ."

"Do you think she's not suffering already?" Grace said, ignoring his interruption. "You're both miserable. You're sick. It's cruel and it's horrible. And it's not fair, and it's not your fault, or anyone's fault. But your stubborn refusal to let her be a part of this, that is your fault."

John smiled, surprising Grace, whose temper was growing hot. "I should've known that you would give it to me straight," he said, laughing humorlessly.

"I should kick your butt is what I should do," she replied, trying to calm down.

John sat back down. "I have no doubt you would try." He paused. "It's the best option, Grace. I told you before, I'll do whatever I have to make sure she isn't hurt."

"And being left behind won't hurt her?" Grace asked, her arms crossed, but her voice softening when she saw the hurt flare in John's eyes.

"She's strong, Grace, stronger than I am. In the end she'll be fine without me. This way, she just gets hurt less in the process."

"John . . ." she said, pausing. "She's my friend, I have to tell her."

"I do plan on coming back, Grace," he said, hoping he was speaking the truth. "And I'm not disappearing completely. It will be like when she was in Nebraska."

Grace nodded. "With only a few more lies."

John stood up and kissed her on the cheek, doing his best to ignore the pain her comment caused. "I'll be sure to tell you goodbye before I go."

With that, he turned and left her office. For a moment, she just watched him walk away. When he was out of earshot, she mumbled, "I'm not so sure either of you will be completely fine without the other anymore."