title: Dealing

fandom: Without A Trace

pairing: Jack/Martin

rating: NC17

series: none

sequel to: none

spoilers: heavy for Copycat, light for the rest of the series

author: nancy

email: the_tenth_muse1@yahoo.com

feedback: yes, please!

archive: sure! just let me know!

summary: Jack's having trouble dealing wit Graham Spaulding's violation and Martin offers his help, as well as a lot more.

warnings: some bad language, angst, and graphic m/m sex

disclaimers: not mine, never will be, not making any money from this.

notes: this is only my 2nd WAT fic, so hopefully it's not too out there, character-wise. *grin* I just totally felt that Martin was seriously hurting for Jack in Copycat and HAD to write this in response. actually, I've been seeing more Jack/Martin than Danny/Martin, despite the plethora of fics I've seen with the two younger agents together, so I'll probably wind up being a Jack/Martin fan. fairly new to the fandom though, so we'll see. *grin*

thanks to Rueful for plugging my info holes and cheering me on. :o)



Dealing
By Nancy

A week later and Martin still didn't like the way Jack was looking. It wasn't Graham Spaulding's death that kept the edge of pain in Jack's dark eyes, Martin knew. It had to do with his mother and that last woman from the case 12 years ago. Martin knew how sensitive Jack was to failure, especially when it cost a life, no matter how hard Jack tried, and losing to that bastard by only an hour had hurt Jack badly.

The office was empty now, no urgent cases being worked on, but Jack's office was lit, showing him still hard at work on something. Martin tapped hesitantly on the door and Jack looked up, waving him inside. "Burning the midnight oil?"

"More like the eight o'clock oil," Jack correctly, smiling briefly. "What are you still doing here?"

Martin echoed the smile and replied, "Just wanted to see if you'd like to grab a bite."

Thinking about it for a moment, Jack nodded. "Sure. Let me close up shop here and tell Marie I'll be late."

"All right. I'll be by the elevators," Martin agreed, leaving the office.

He hit the call button and waited, knowing how long it took for the elevator to get there after hours. It chimed just as Jack walked towards him and he stepped inside, leaning against the side to hold it.

They decided on a quiet Italian place halfway between office and Jack's home. It was a nice place where Martin had eaten a few times before. Good food and ample portions, though by the time it arrived, Jack seemed to have lost his appetite. Sighing to himself, Martin asked, "What's wrong?"

Startled, Jack looked over at him with, "Nothing."

"Then why aren't you eating?" Martin questioned.

Jack put the fork down and answered, "Haven't been hungry lately."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah, you've lost some weight."

That seemed to surprise Jack and he didn't reply. Martin half-smiled and said, "We've all noticed, Jack, it's not just me. You've been quiet, too. And I know you're not one to use the department shrink, but I hope that after all this time you know you can talk to me, no matter about what."

Jack sighed and picked up his napkin, playing with it between his fingers. "I'm dealing, Martin."

"No, you're not," Martin countered softly. "You're trying to bury it again and it's not working. Jack…you don't have to do this alone. Hearing that shit from Spaulding disturbed me and it wasn't my mother he was talking about. It's okay to admit you need to talk about something."

Destitute eyes met his and Martin's breath caught at the pain in them. Without thinking, he reached across the table and grabbed Jack's hand. Surprise lit across Jack's face, but Martin couldn't worry about how much he'd revealed in that one action.

"I…Martin, I can't…not here," Jack finally said, looking away.

Releasing a shaky breath, incredibly relieved that Jack hadn't rejected him outright, Martin squeezed Jack's hand before letting go. "Come home with me."

The gaze Jack pinned on him was sharp and shrewd. Martin kept his expression open and didn't both to hide the hope that Jack would accept his invitation. They'd just moved beyond pretense and now the ball was in Jack's court.

After a too-long moment, Jack nodded slowly and agreed, "Yeah. Okay." Martin signaled for the waiter who, after being assured that everything was fine with their meal, but something had come up, got the check for them. Outside the restaurant, Martin turned to Jack and said, "If I don't see you, it's okay. I'll um, I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Which gave Jack the out he might very well need, since the cold New York night air had cleared both their heads. Jack didn't give him any idea one way or the other, just nodded shortly and headed for his car.

* * * *

Martin was on tenterhooks until a sharp rap at his door signaled Jack's arrival. He strode to the door, then paused to take a deep breath, and opened it. Stepping back, Martin let him inside and then closed the door. Heading into the main room, he asked, "You want some coffee?"

"Sure, thanks," Jack agreed, looking around the apartment. "Nice place."

"Thanks," Martin replied, moving to the kitchen. He already had the coffeemaker brewing, suspecting that if Jack did show up, they'd be needing some.

To his surprise, Jack followed him into the kitchen with, "I guess I'm not dealing real well, am I?"

Turning, Martin looked at him and replied, "No, Jack, you're not. I mean, don't get me wrong, all things considered, you're doing okay, but you're on the edge. If we had another big case right now, I don't even want to think about what it would do to you if we didn't get the person back. Especially if it was a woman."

Jack ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I know. I just…I don't know how to get past it, Martin. I talked to Marie about it, a little. But she doesn't understand, not really. Not about what we go through."

"I do," Martin said softly.

Which got him another shrewd look and, "This isn't going to turn into one of those, `my wife doesn't understand me,' Martin. I'm not looking for…shit. I don't know what I'm looking for. I don't know why the hell I'm here, not really."

"I think you know it's more than friendship for me, Jack. Has been for a while now," Martin stated, still quiet. "But if that's it, then I'm good. This is about you, not me, and what you need. If you just want someone to vent a spleen on, that's fine. If you need more, that's fine."

"I don't want to cheat on my wife."

Again, rang unspoken through the room. Martin would have laughed at the irony, if the situation wasn't so charged. For the second time, Jack might have an affair with a subordinate. It wasn't exactly common knowledge about him and Sam, but the rumors were stronger than usual about them, which led Martin to thinking that they were true. That and how they acted together sometimes.

Thinking maybe the situation should be lightened, just a little, Martin offered a smile and asked, "Should I warn Danny that he might be next?"

Jack froze, then laughed. It was a short, hard sound, but the older man was more relaxed after. Shaking his head, Jack replied, "No, no he and Viv are both safe, but I'm sure they'd thank you for the look-out."

Smiling, Martin turned back to the counter and opened a cabinet door to get some coffee mugs down. He filled them both, then offered one to Jack, who took it and headed back into the living room. He sat on the sofa and Martin took the chair opposite, not wanting to crowd him.

"It was the second time," Jack said, apropos of nothing.

Martin frowned. "Second time for what."

"That my mother tried to kill herself."

Ouch. Well, Martin had brought Jack there to talk. Leaning forward a little, he guessed, "You didn't tell anyone."

Staring into his coffee, Jack shook his head. "Not a soul. I wanted to, but she promised it wouldn't happen again."

From the relative ease with which Jack spoke, Martin thought that this was what he'd talked to Marie about. He wanted to sit beside Jack and just hold him, but the other man was giving off very firm, `don't touch me,' vibes, so he stayed put. "I'm sorry. You must have felt betrayed when she did it again."

Startled, Jack looked up at him, realization crossing his face as he agreed, "I did. I was always ashamed, ashamed that I hadn't told anyone, that maybe if I had, she'd, she'd still be alive. But she promised, Martin, promised that she wouldn't do it again! How could she?"

Tensing, as if thinking he'd gone to far by verbalizing that, Jack turned his gaze back into his coffee, knuckles white as they held the mug. And this was something that Martin couldn't resist; Jack huddled over the coffee with hurt and pain practically oozing out of his pores. He set down his own mug and crossed to the sofa, sitting beside Jack. He had to pry the fingers from the porcelain, but set the mug down safely.

Keeping the hand in his, Martin whispered, "It's okay, Jack. It's all right to feel like that."

Jack shook his head and replied, "It's not just that."

"Then what?"

"Spaulding."

There was such hatred in Jack's voice that it gave Martin pause that maybe he couldn't handle this. He took a breath and plowed on, "What about him?"

"I let him see me, see my weakness and use it against me," Jack hissed furiously.

Martin's grip tightened when Jack tried to pull away and he replied, "You didn't let him do anything, Jack. He was a twisted psycho who invaded your life and privacy. And being torn up over your mother's suicide isn't a weakness. You're a good man, Jack Malone."

The harsh laugh that escaped this time, was anything but relaxing as Jack countered, "Am I? Here I am, sitting with you, wanting you so bad, that I'm going to cheat on Marie again. I should be at home with her and the girls."

"Does she make you happy?" Martin asked softly. "You and Marie already split up once and I'm betting a lot of it had nothing to do with Sam."

Point scored, from the way Jack stiffened and pinned him with another glare.

Martin continued on, relentless. "You and Marie are different people from when you got married. Cheating isn't right, no, but are the two of you really back on track? Can you honestly tell me that you want to spend the rest of your life with her? Because if you do, I'll back off and tonight never happened. The only thing you have to do here, Jack, is be honest. With yourself and with me."

Jack was silent for a long time, but he wasn't pulling away anymore. His eyes were locked onto their joined hands, which drew Martin's gaze there as well. His own pale hands against Jack's hairier, darker ones. He knew that a lot was going on in Jack's mind, but he had to say his peace in case things were over before they began.

"I don't know if I love you, Jack. I know I care a lot for you and it just about kills me to see you in this kind of pain. You could leave Marie, we could try things out and they could go completely wrong. You could stay with Marie without us doing anything. You can do anything you want, Jack, you've got all the choices and power here, because I'm giving them to you. I want you and I want to try this for real, but not if it's going to cost you your self-respect, or the respect that I hope you have for me."

At that, Jack met his eyes and half-smiled. "No chance of that happening, Martin, honest. But other than that, I don't know. I really don't. I don't know what I want, or what to do."

"Then at least let me give you what you need," Martin whispered before pressing his lips to Jack's. Jack groaned and instantly kissed him back, his hand tightening on Martin's. Their mouths opened, tongues mingling, and Martin found himself pushed down as Jack moved between his legs.

The kiss ended when Jack shifted to suck lightly on his throat, biting gently and murmuring, "You sure about this?"

"God yes," Martin answered, baring his throat further.

Jack groaned and sucked harder, teeth scraping across Martin's throat. Hands fumbled at Martin's pants and then pushed into Martin's boxers, gripping and twisting his cock tight enough to provoke a gasp.

"God, you're gorgeous," Jack breathed.

"Bedroom?" Martin suggested, flushing even hotter at the compliment.

"Yeah."

It was a fast trip, clothing dropping to the floor on the way. By the time they reached his bed, both men were naked and Martin was held tight in Jack's arms. He returned the passionate kiss, desperately rubbing against the strong body, his hard cock pushing against Jack's and then moving between Jack's thighs, which clamped together to give him friction. Moaning, Martin barely noticed when Jack maneuvered them onto the bed, feeling the mattress under him with the vaguely surprised thought, *Oh good, support.*

Jack tried his best to devour Martin whole, sucking and kissing every bit of skin he could find and driving Martin out of his mind in the process. He'd thought Jack would be like this as a lover, intense and focused, but hadn't allowed himself more than daydreams, especially not after Jack and Marie had gotten back together.

Then Jack started sucking his cock and thought shattered. Callused fingers played with Martin's balls and he arched into the caress, begging silently for more. Jack's mouth was hot and sucked him with enough expertise that Martin knew it wasn't unfamiliar to the other man, even if he hadn't done it for a while. He groaned in disappointment, panting, when Jack pulled off.

"Lube, Martin? You got any?" Jack demanded, dark eyes darker than usual with lust.

Struggling to think, Martin pushed onto his elbows and answered, "Bathroom. Under the sink."

Jack chuckled, his grin wry as he said, "You really weren't planning this tonight, were you?"

Grinning back at him, Martin shook his head. "Condoms are with it."

It only took a few minutes for Jack to return to the bedroom and, by then, Martin was spread out on his stomach on the bed, a pillow under his hips.

"Holy shit."

Peering back over his shoulder, Martin smirked and asked, "See something you like?"

"Fuck yes," Jack answered, climbing onto the bed.

He straddled Martin, setting the supplies on the bed and beginning a rough massage of Martin's shoulders that promptly reduced him to quivering goo. Jack kissed his back and licked down the spine before nipping at his cleft. Wet fingers pushed inside Martin and he sighed into the invasion, relaxing to let Jack explore him further.

"God, Martin, you feel so good, can't wait to get inside you," Jack muttered.

Shuddering, Martin spread his legs further and replied, "No one's stopping you."

A warm laugh, by far the best one of the night, rumbled from Jack and he said, "I am. Hold your horses."

It seemed way too long before Jack was satisfied with the amount of stretching and put on a condom. Then his slick cock pushed into Martin without pause and they both groaned. For a few minutes, Jack rested inside him, buried deep with his full weight pinning Martin into the bed.

Unable to take it anymore, Martin ordered, "Move, Jack!"

Another warm chuckle and Jack obeyed, his cock pulling out just enough to push back in with some force. Martin's hands clutched at the bedspread and he shoved back, impaling himself and eliciting a gasp from Jack. Smirking, Martin squeezed his ass and provoked another, then a growl warned him just before Jack started fucking him in earnest.

Strong, powerful thrusts edged Jack's cock as far into Martin as it would go, nicking his prostate as often as the other man could manage it. It wasn't long before Martin was begging for more, "Please, please Jack, oh God, harder, please!" legs as far apart as they would go. The friction on his cock grew the harder Jack slammed into him, pushing him closer to orgasm, and Martin had the vague thought that sitting down would be painful the next day.

Then Jack somehow managed to hit his prostate on every in-stroke and sent him howling over the edge, coming hard. Jack shouted in response to the tightening of his ass around his cock and humped into Martin, coming just as hard and then collapsing on his back. They lay there, both panting and recovering, until Jack kissed the back of his sweat-damp neck and slowly pulled out.

Martin winced at both the empty feeling and the pain as his ass spasmed closed. Jack returned to bed a second later, having presumably gotten rid of the condom, though Martin hadn't moved to watch.

Kissing his shoulder, Jack asked softly, "You okay?"

Shuddering as he turned to look at Jack, blissfully boneless, Martin nodded. "Uh huh."

A smile split Jack's face and he echoed, "Uh huh, huh? Verbal much?"

"Nuh uh," Martin confirmed happily.

Jack tugged the blankets down and Martin grimaced as his ass twinged when he climbed underneath and curled against Jack. Strong arms wrapped around him and he sighed deeply, kissing Jack's chest, eyes closing.

"I think I can deal now, Martin," Jack murmured, kissing the top of his head.

Martin looked up at him and asked, just as soft, "For real?"

Nodding slowly, Jack answered, "Yeah. For real. So long as you're here for me."

Arms tightening around Jack, throwing a leg around him for good measure, Martin replied, "Try and get rid of me."

And it wasn't like them being together didn't bring up a whole set of new problems, but like Jack said, they would deal.



END