Disclaimer: Profiler isn't mine, surely not this season. It is the property of it's producers (although I'm not sure who that is right now) Stephen Kronish, I think. I'm making no profit from the telling of this story outside of the enjoyment of writing it and hopefully your enjoyment in reading it :-)

Author's Notes: Alrighty y'all, this little piece takes up where the first left off. Thanks to those of you who wrote asking me to continue the story *bg* the feedback was most appreciated! This one is a bit heavier than the first, but maybe not how you would think. Please send me your thoughts on the story! :-) Thanks! ~Kaly

After she went home that New Year's Eve, Sam hardly slept. No matter what she tried, she couldn't get the memory of John's kiss out of her mind. Most of all, she wished she knew what had caused the scared look that crossed his face when he fled her office. Pulling the covers up tighter under her chin, she strenghtened her resolve to get to the bottom of that particular mystery.

***

The next day, John lay on his well worn couch surfing through the various football bowl games. Ever since leaving Sam's office the night before, he had done all he could to not think about the mistake he had made. Kissing Sam had been one of the greatest feelings -- however, at the same time one of the most terrifying.

He loved her, John forced himself to admit, he had fought it for some time. The problem lay in the fact that once, years before, he had sworn to never give that kind of power over his heart to another. The risk was too great, his one and only serious relationship had taught him that.

Instead, he tried to focus on football like he had all morning. Stopping on one game, he laid the remote down and was soon fast asleep.

***

Walking up to John's apartment, Sam fought down a surge of nervouness. Clutching John's forgotten camera in her hand, she knocked on the door.

Moments later a very bleary eyed John pulled the door open. A flash of emotion filled his eyes for an instant, before he blinked it away. "Sam?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

Smiling, she nodded. "Sharp as always, Grant. Can I come in?"

Moving back quickly, he held the door open for her. "Sorry," he muttered through a yawn. After he closed the door, he said "Have a seat. Want anything to drink?"

Sitting, she replied, "No thanks," and watched as he disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a cup of coffee. John sat down on the couch, and after a few moments of silence Sam asked, "So, make any New Year's resolutions?" John merely shook his head no, and the silence proceeded to hang heavily in the room. Trying again, Sam motioned toward the television. "Who's playing?"

John laughed into his coffee cup. "What's this? Sam Waters is asking about football?"

"Well, I get ribbed enough by you and Bailey about not knowing anything about football that I figured it couldn't hurt to ask," she responded with a grin. "So? Who's playing?"

With a skeptical glance at Sam, John looked over at the television. "Still the Citrus Bowl, actually." At her continuing lost look, he finished by saying "Arkansas versus Michigan."

"Ah," Sam commented.

John shook his head, "That means nothing to you, does it?" When Sam shook her head no but stayed silent, he laughed again. "Well, it's the best game on right now."

"Who's winning?" Sam asked.

Shrugging, John replied, "I haven't a clue, I've slept through most of it so far." He paused for a minute before continuing. "Sam, you didn't drive over here just to talk about football."

Sam searched his features for any sign of what he was feeling. She had been glad to hear him laugh, and was relieved that her diversionary tactic had worked for a little while. "No," she finallly conceeded, "I didn't come over to talk about football." Her voice was just above a whisper as she spoke. "I wanted to talk to you about last night."

Slowly, the color seemed to drain out of John's face. "Look, Sam. I'm sorry. I shouldn't . . ."

Before he could apologize yet again, she interrupted him. "John, stop saying you're sorry. I'm not."

"You're not?" Shock laced his words. She shook her head slowly, and a moment later he resumed speaking. "Sam, I . . . It's just, I can't."

Confused hurt flickered in Sam's eyes. "You mean you're not interested?" She had stood as she spoke, suddenly feeling embarassed.

She had turned toward the door, but stopped when she felt John's hand on her arm. "Sam, no. It's not like that. Never like that. Don't go, please."

Turning, she hesitantly met his gaze. "Then what is it, John? If you felt what I did last night, why did you run away?"

Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he ran his hands over his face. "For a long time, I've fought what I felt for you, but not why you might think." He dropped down onto the couch, and Sam sat beside him, surprised as his sudden shift in emotion.

"John?" she asked softly, "Please talk to me."

Having been hiding his face behind his hands, he let them drop onto his lap. Looking at Sam, he could see compassion swrilling in her blue eyes. "Her name was Rebecca," he whispered barely loud enough to be heard.

"What happened?" Sam asked, her tone matching John's.

When he finally replied, his answer wasn't what she had expected at all. "We met in college. It was funny, when I met her it was like I had always known her." He smiled sadly at the memory as he spoke, "We had just graduated when I asked her to marry me." Sam guessed her surprise must have shown when he laughed shortly. "Yeah, me. John Grant, bachelor extraordinare, proposed."

Guessing that she had turned him down, Sam asked gently "And what did she say?"

"Yes. She said yes," he answered, blinking away the moisture that had gathered in his eyes. "I had been so scared, but the way she smiled when I put the ring on her finger melted the fears." He paused, laughing softly. "It was such a pitiful excuse for a ring, but she was so proud of it."

He stopped speaking, a far away look on his face. After a little while, Sam asked, "John?"

"Where was I?" he asked, his voice rough with unshed tears. "Oh yeah. Well, we got this little apartment in town. I headed for the police academy and she started to work at a law firm. Everything was great. Until," his voice cracked and Sam wondered if he would be able to continue. "Until she got sick."

Sam blinked in surprise. Any number of possibilities had come to mind, but this was the last thing she expected.

Swallowing hard, talking to himself as much as Sam, John plunged ahead. "We, ah, had been engaged three months when she started feeling bad. She tried to hide it, but I knew. When she went to the doctor to get the test results, I think I took it worse than she did."

"John, you don't have to . . ."

"It was lukemia," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "They tried everything they could." His eyes bright, but not a single tear having fallen, he finished speaking. "The day she died was the day we were supposed to get married."

v Tears slid down Sam's cheeks, and she blinked to clear her vision. "John, I'm sorry." She knew the words sounded hollow, but she found herself at a loss. Even after so many years, she knew how little anything helped where Tom's loss was concerned.

Meeting her eyes, John barely nodded. "Sam, it's just, after Becca . . . After Becca I swore I would never risk that again. Last night was the first time since then that my heart wanted to risk it."

"John . . ."

"No, let me finish. Please, Sam." His eyes pleaded with hers, and she simply nodded her head. "I've been interested in you for almost as long as we've known each other. And I convinced myself that a little flirting was harmless, and that since you weren't interested in me that you were safe. Last night changed all that. I'm sorry if I upset you, running away like that."

Sam placed her hand on his cheek, saying "Don't be sorry. I'm glad that you trusted me enough to tell me about her. I'm sorry if you felt rushed, or pressured."

"Never pressured," he shook his head. "Just scared. Probably more scared than I can remember being in a long time. You probably know better than I would, after what happened to Tom." His voice never rose above a whisper, and he tentativly met her gaze.

A soft, sad smile crossed her face. "We all have our own pain. Apparently we just understand each other's better than I thought. I am sorry about Rebecca."

"Thank you," he replied honestly. "It's been so long since I've talked about it. Usually I do my best not to think about it at all."

Her eyes never leaving his, she said, "Don't deny yourself the happy memories, John. It's obvious what she meant to you. Let your heart revel in all you had together. Live your life with her always in your heart, and she'll never be far away."

"Is that what you did?"

"Eventually," she responded honestly.

Taking her hand, he started to speak, but paused. "Sam," pausing again, it was a few seconds before he continued. "There's something I haven't said to anyone in a long time. Something I've not felt in a long time." Risking a look into her expressive eyes, he went on, "I think I love you. That's why I ran last night."

Tears again filled her eyes, "I think I love you, too."

Leaning his face, his lips grazed hers hesitantly. Pulling back, Sam asked, "Are you sure?"

Smiling, he replied, "There haven't been many times in my life that I've felt like I had a real home. Sam, I think I've finally found home again. You feel like home." Any reply Sam might have attempted to voice was lost as his lips met hers again. The innocence was forgotten as they each sought to be lost in the other.

After breaking away from the kiss, Sam laid her head on John's shoulder. "I think I lied earlier," John said suddenly.

"Really?" Sam asked, curious as to what he was referring.

Nodding, he replied, "Yeah, I think I will have a resolution this year."

A relieved smile brightened her eyes, "And?"

"To remember my past, but to not let it rule my future."

Sam's smile widened, "Sounds like one we could both use." A moment later, she commented, "I think your game ended. Wonder who won?"

John laughed, "I think I did."

Shaking her head, Sam turned to look into John's eyes, smiling. "I think we both did."

fin