Author's Notes: Uh... They made me do it? *g* Okay, I know, it continues... But don't blame me, really. They made me do it :-) So, Aldaj, Clarabelle and Kate, this new story was written 'cause y'all asked for it *bg* Thanks so much for the wonderful feedback. Anyway, I swear I'm gonna rename this the Becca series... sheesh, it's taking over my life *l* Please send me your thoughts on the story! :-) Thanks! ~Kaly

From where Sam sat behind her desk, she could see out into the main area of the VCTF. However, it was one particular desk that held her attention. John sat at his desk, and Sam noted with concern that he had hardly moved all morning.

It was early February, and they had been dating for just over a month. In that time, Sam had grown ever more sensitive to John's moods. When they had gone out the night before, he had seemed none the worse for wear. Because of this, Sam couldn't figure out what had caused such a sudden shift in his emotions.

Before she had time to change her mind, Sam stood and walked out of her office. Descending the short staircase, she crossed the large room to John's desk.

Sitting on the edge of his desk, she looked down at his face. "John?" He startled at her question, looking up at her, but said nothing. "You okay?" she asked in a concerned whisper.

Sighing, he responded, "Yeah, I'm fine, Sam. So, what's up?" He tried to match his forced flippant tone with a grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ah, nothing. You've just been . . ." she paused, hesitantly adding, "distracted today, that's all."

"Oh, sorry." Looking at John, Sam's concern grew at his unusual lack of a snappy, if often somewhat overused comeback. "I was just thinking," he added before Sam could speak.

Nodding, she replied, "Want to talk about it?"

"As my girlfriend or as a shrink?" he snapped. Seeing her startled glance, he relented, "Sorry, I didn't mean to take your head off."

Placing her hand on his arm, she replied, "That's okay." Pausing until he met her gaze, she continued, "Anyway, I was thinking more along the lines of as your friend."

He exhaled roughly, and then said, "Okay, but can we get out of here? There's some place I need to go."

Her curiosity peaked by his comment, Sam agreed. "Just let me get my coat," she added before walking up to her office. John stood waiting outside of her office when she pulled the door closed behind her. "Do you want me to drive?"

He shook his head, saying "Not today." For her part, Sam merely nodded her head in agreement and they walked out to the parking deck.

John held the door to the parking garage open as Sam walked through, shivering from the cold. She crossed her arms across her chest in an effort to warm up, and was relieved when they reached John's car. After unlocking the passenger door, John held it open for Sam to climb into the car. On occasion she still found herself surprised by his efforts to be gentlemanly.

Moments later they were pulling out of the garage and onto a busy Atlanta street. Neither spoke during the ride, however Sam risked a few glances in John's direction. The drive took them out of the more metropolitan section of Atlanta and into one of it's many suburbs.

John pulled the car into a parking spot in a tree-lined lot. Killing the engine, he turned to face Sam. "I've never brought anyone here with me," he said quietly. "I hope you don't mind coming."

Confusion flickered across Sam's face as she listened to John speak. Turing her head slowly, she looked across the area the car was parked next to. Realization dawned in her eyes as she took in the large cemetery. "Rebecca?" she asked softly.

John nodded his head, but didn't speak. Instead, he unlocked his door and got out of the car. Sam was still gazing across the pale brown grass, which the falling snow was just starting to cover, when John pulled her door open from the outside.

In the time since they had finally admitted their feelings for one another, Sam had encouraged John to be more open about Rebecca. She understood better than many how much it would help him to not bottle the emotions up inside. Slowly, he became more willing to speak of her. In the process, Sam was able to learn more about the young woman who had so captured his heart.

Sam stood, closing the car door behind her and realized that John was no longer standing there. She turned, in time to see him pull a single white rose out of the trunk of his car. Saying nothing, she waited for him to walk back over to her.

Sam saw the apprehension that flashed in John's blue eyes, and placed a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded, and took her hand in his own. The first part of the walk across the cemetery was spent in silence. John's mind was a whirl of emotion, as it always was when he came to visit Becca. Sam, on the other hand, was busy trying to decide what to think. She knew John had came a long way in allowing his heart to feel again. In her own way, her relationship with John was the same. It was the first time since Tom died that she let herself believe something more might come her way. Neither her relationships with Coop or the more recent district attorney had given her that feeling.

She was broken out of her thoughts when John spoke quietly. "I come here every year, today I mean. February 2."

"John?"

Hearing the concern in her voice, he looked at her and squeezed her hand. "I'll be okay, Sam. I promise."

Sam nodded in silent acceptance, and waited for John to continue speaking when he was ready. However, John didn't speak again until they had reached the simple marker. Taking his hand from Sam's, he placed the fragile rose down in front of the charcoal granite marker. Standing a step away, Sam fought the tear that threatened to trickle down her cheek as she watched John run his hand absently across the engraved letters. "Hey, Becca," he whispered so softly it might have simply been a whistle in the wind.

John, his head down and his hand still on the stone spoke in a hushed whisper. "I loved her. In a way, I still do." Sam, having been moved to silence, said nothing. A moment later, John lifted his head and went on. "Every year since she died, I would spend this day depressed, and then I would come here. It was like I could talk to her, and it would actually make me feel better."

He stood, turning toward Sam before adding, "This was the first year anyone noticed something was wrong. When you came over to my desk earlier, I knew that I wanted you beside me today. I wish the two of you could have met," he said with a sad smile.

Sam smiled, taking John's hand, "So do I."

Reaching down into his coat pocket, John pulled out a small gold band. "I was supposed to put this on her finger, but I never had the chance," he said, letting Sam see the fragile ring. Kneeling, he dug his hands down in the snow, and then a little ways down into the earth in front of the marker. Gently, he placed the ring into the ground and covered it up. "I want her to have it, I've held onto it long enough."

He coughed, trying to cover the emotion that sought to creep into his voice. Sam placed her hand on his shoulder in support, and a moment later he covered it with one of his own. "It's time to let go," he added tenderly.

"Letting go doesn't mean saying good bye forever, John," Sam affirmed softly.

John stood, sniffing quickly. "I know. It's just hard, even after all this time."

"I know. I understand." John turned his gaze away from Sam, focusing somewhere on the horizon as Sam spoke. "And," she added, "it's okay to show some of the emotion you're feeling."

Taking Sam's hand, he led them over to a wrought iron bench. After they had sat down, John said, "I can't show what I'm feeling Sam, I can't."

"It's not weak to let someone know you're in pain, John," she said, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead.

John sighed, running a hand over his eyes, "It's not that, Sam. If I let go of what little hold I have, I don't know if I'll be able to get it back." After a moment, he continued. "Just after Becca died, I kept such a tight hold on what I let myself feel. Becca's father was distraught, he had just lost his wife the year before. I needed to be strong, for him."

Sam looked at him compassionately, asking silently, "But who was strong for you?"

A few moments later, John continued. "When she died, I was sitting there beside her. I don't remember climbing up in the bed, but they had to pull me out of it when they came to get her. I had just sat there holding her, rocking her in my arms, tears streaming down my face."

Sam startled, of all the things he had cautiously mentioned about Rebecca, he had never spoken about her death itself. She knew from experience that there was nothing she could say to make it any easier, so she sat silently hoping to give him strength with her presence.

"A nurse led me from the room so they could take the body. It was like something in me snapped, I stopped crying. Hell, I did my best to stop feeling at all."

He sniffed, a chill suddenly causing him to shiver. "She would have loved this, you know." With his hand he motioned to the area all around them.

"What part?" Sam asked, noting John's sudden shift in topic.

A sad smile lit his face. "The snow. Atlanta isn't exactly known for it's snow, and we were both originally from up north. Becca used to complain about how it hardly ever snowed here. In fact, the Christmas we were engaged was a white one. The look on her face that morning was priceless."

"Like a little kid?"

v John laughed, a bit of emotion filtering in. "Yeah, just like a kid. We went outside and tried to make a snowman. Too bad we couldn't stop throwing the snow to manage it."

Sam smiled at John's happier memory. "Sounds familiar," she said.

John's smiled faded a bit when he added, "That was her last Christmas. By then she was pretty sick, but she was determined we were going to have a normal holiday." He paused, lost in thought. "I think I would have paid to have fake snow dumped outside our apartment if it would have made her smile like she did that morning."

Against his will, John felt a tear trickle down his cheek. It was quickly followed by another, and hastily he reached up with a gloved hand to wipe the moisture away. "Let go, John. I'll be here to catch you if you fall," Sam whispered.

A shudder racked his frame, and he turned to pull Sam into a fierce embrace. A sob filled with years of pent up emotion tore from his throat, and for the first time in years, he let go.

fin

well??? i'm waiting with baited breath to hear what ya think! :-) ~ kaly