Infinity

TITLE: Infinity (13/?)

AUTHOR: Master F&M

FANDOM: Law and Order: SVU

RATING: Everything from PG to R—just like life.

SUMMARY: A Fin fic— to give him a life that the show refuses to give him

DISCLAIMER: L&O: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf, NBC, and whomever

                          else puts the show out for our enjoyment. I just get to play with them.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

FEEDBACK: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

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CHAPTER 13

            Munch and Fin sat at their desks in the station house after their shift had ended. Neither
one was in any particular hurry to get home. Munch’s date with Tori wasn’t until later in the
evening. He hated being home alone before meeting her. It usually gave him plenty of time to
obsess over his past mistakes and failures with women, as well as ample opportunity to magnify
each of his current flaws. It was a ttesttestament to Tori that he kept any of their dates at all.

            Fin, too, disliked being home alone. Every since Sam had suddenly left three days ago, he
was finding it difficult to keep himself entertained. Not only had he gotten used to having her
around, he was now realizing that he had also come to depend on her company. With her gone,
he was finding himself having to deal with his old demons again. It also seemed that the longer
she was away, the more he was forced to examine his feelings for her. Needless to say, he was
very much looking forward er rer return.

            “You heard from Sam today?” he asked Munch, who sat stringing paperclips together just
for the hell of it.

            “Oddly, no. She’s called me every day with updates on Frank’s condition, but so far today
I haven’t heard a thing.”

            Munch’s brother had recently been warned by his doctor that he may be facing kidney
failure. Neither John nor Sam had had any idea that he was even sick since he had come out of
his liver scare several months ago. As a consummate workaholic who more often than not drank
his meals instead of eating them, Frank Munch was wound tighter than, as John put it, the springs
in a virgin’s mattress.

            John wasn’t at all surprised that his brother hadn’t told him sooner about his problem, but
he certainly hadn’t expected to be kept totally in the dark about it. Though he understood
Frank’s need for privacy and his unconscious determination to keep his more serious emotions in
check (they were, after all, raised in the same house with the same critical and humorless mother),
John never quite understood the choices Frank made or his reactions to the events in his life.

            There was a time when John truly envied his brother, the least not being when Cecilia had
accepted his proposal. When Sam was born, a beautiful, healthy baby, John had begun to think
that someone had finally managed to elude the Munch family curse. But then Frank had begun to
slip, and John began to see cracks in the happy picture.

            It had not escaped his attention that although both Munch brothers had chosen work
dealing primarily with corpses, it was John’s job to figure out why they had ended up that way
and try to seek justice for them, while Frank was content to simply bury them. His career choice
was apropos for his life; whenever something unpleasant came along or happened, Frank buried it
under a pile of work or a bottle of scotch.

            Seemingly similar, too, was their misfortune with women. But while John went from wife
to wife, looking for something he couldn’t name and ensuring he wouldn’t find it by marrying the
wrong women, Frank had mostly ended his relationship with women after his wife’s death, though
John suspected that even that relationship was over some time before then.

            What was an enigma to John was why Frank’s life had suddenly fallen apart. He had a
new, successful business, and a nice home complete with a wife and child. But instead of being
happy, Frank began to close himself off from them and devoted himself solely to his work. By the
time of Cecilia’s death, he was rarely spending nights at home with his wife anymore and had very
little, if anything at all, to do with his daughter. John had chalked it up to Frank’s fear of losing
what was important to him. After their father committed suicide, Frank had found it was much
easier for him to give up voluntarily what he cherished than to have to relinquish it later on.

            What John was sure about was how Frank managed to close off his emotions from
everyone. Years of living with their mother had taught them that. He, at least, had learned to
channel his through humor. Frank hadn’t been able to do the same thing. Inevitable, though, it
took its toll so that in the end years of his life, Frank was a sad, lonely and oftentimes bitter man.

            “Do you think there’s a problem?” Fin asked, concerned. “Don’t you think you should
call her?”

            “Not really. She’ll call if she needs me. Besides, if you’re so worried, why don’t you call
her yourself?”

            Fin looked down at the nerf ball he was playing with. “I don’t want to intrude.”

            Munch blew out an exasperated breath and peered at him over the rim of his glasses. “Do
you really think she would mind getting a call from you?”

            Fin gave him a half-hearted shrug. “You tell me. She’s your niece.”

            “And your . . . what exactly?”

            Fin looked at him through narrowed eyes, trying to read him. How would Munch feel if
his partner started seeing his niece? He gave up and leaned back in his seat. “We’re friends.
Not like you and Tori, “ Fin quickly changed the subject. “You got another hot date with her
tonight?”

            “Yes, we’re getting together, but whether or not it gets hot still remains to be seen.” He
waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

            “Dirty old man. You best be on your way then. Don’t want to disappoint the lady.”

            Munch got up to collect his things from his locker. “You coming?”

        0;�   Fin couldn’t resist. “I’ll give you a call later and ask you the same thing.”

.............................................................

            Sam stepped off the elevator and momentarily lost her bearings. It took her a few seconds
to remember if Munch’s apartment was to the left or to the right. Deciding on the right, she
slowly and carefully made her way down the hall. Now she regretted those three drinks she’d had
earlier. At the time it had seemed like a good idea. If she was going to have her legs kicked out
from under her, it could at least be with the edges dulled.

            As soon as she’d gotten back to New York, she ditched her car at her apartment and took
a cab to the nearest barstool. She desperately needed to talk to Munch, but was afraid to hear
what she really didn’t want to know. Faced with the dilemma, she’d taken her father’s route
straight to the bottle. Her father.

            Sam turned the corner in the hallway and looked down Munch’s end of it. She spotted
him outside his door with a woman she’d never seen before. Attractive, nicely dressed, and pretty
friendly, too, from the look of things. This must be the girlfriend. Sam retreated back around the
corner as the couple shared a kiss. Of all the times to run into the mysterious Tori. Sam would
have loved to have been here under different circumstances. She would have really enjoyed
making a nuisance of herself. As it stood, though, she was eager for her uncle to say his
goodnights so that she could talk to him.

            Sam peeked around the corner and was surprised to see that only was Tori still there, but
she was caught up in a rather passionate embrace. She watched, numb, as John took Tori’s hand,
kissed it, then led her into his apartment, locking the door behind them. She started to walk
toward his door then stopped. She couldn’t believe it. Now she would have to wait until
morning. Feeling unreasonably abandoned, she turned and walked back to the elevator. Maybe
she could find a cab to take her to another barstool.

.....................................................

            Fin got to his apartment later than he had intended. Instead of picking up his takeout as
usual, he had eaten his dinner at the restaurant. On the way home he’d gotten stuck in traffic, and
now he was tired and just wanted to collapse in front of the TV. He stopped in the hallway when
he noticed a figure sitting outside his door, but came forward quickly when he recognized it as
Sam.

            “Hey, Munch!” He surprised himself with how thrilled he was to see her. “When did you
get back in town? And what the heck are you doing here?” His happiness vanished, however,
when he noticed the tears on her face.

            “Sam?”

            She looked up at him apprehensively. She knew she was drunk. She also knew how Fin
felt about people who got drunk. She spread her hands out in explanation. “I didn’t know where
else to go.” Fresh tears began to run down her cheeks.

            “Sam, what is it? Is your dad okay?” Fin leaned down to help her up. He immediately
noticed the smell of alcohol on her and how unsteady she was on her feet.

            “You’ve been drinking.” It wasn’t an accusation, merely a statement of fact. He
unlocked his door and helped her inside. Settling her on the sofa, he sat down beside her.

            “Okay, tell me. What’s wrong?”

            Sam looked at him, unsure where to begin. Fin could tell she was having trouble focusing.

            “It’s your dad, right?”

            She nodded. “He said I might as well leave. That he was going to be okay, and that even
if he wasn’t, he didn’t think I’d be able to help him anyway.”

            “Wait. What do you mean? He didn’t want you there?”

            “No.” She squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to erase the memory. “I wanted to help
him.” She began crying again softly. “I wanted to do something that would make him want me.”
Fin saw the pain in her eyes and felt his own chest constrict. He understood trying to win a
father’s approval.

          &;
 “Sam, how could you have helped? Weren’t his doctors already doing everything they
could for him?”

            She took a deep breath. “I thought maybe I could be tested, you know? In case he
needed a kidney? I thought maybe he could use one of mine.”

            “Were you?”

           Sam stared into space, reliving the moment. “He said not to bother since I probably
wasn’t his kid anyway.”

            Fin sat, stunned by the statement. “He said you weren’t his daughter?”

            “He doesn’t seem to think I am. I guess that would explain a lot.”

            Fin didn’t know what to say. He reached forward and began wiping the tears from her
eyes. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m sorry he would say something like that to hurt you. Maybe it was
just because you two haven’t been all that close.”

            “You don’t understand,” she shook her head. “If I’m not his, then I’m not really a
Munch.”

            Fin could practically feel the pain this thought caused her. Now he did understand: As
much as she might be upset over the loss of a father she didn’t really know, she was truly
mourning the possible loss of the uncle she adored. Fin took her in his arms and held her tightly
as she began to cry once more. He rocked her gently and tried to soothe her while fighting back
his own tears.

            “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay.”

            He held her, stroking and caressing her until she’d fallen asleep. Then, afraid he’d awaken
her if he got up, he too fell asleep on the sofa with her still in his arms.

            At some point during the night, Fin stirred under the feel of Sam’s fingers on his lips.
Fully awake, he remained still, enjoying the warmth of her breath on his neck and the sensation of
her body next to his. When she brushed her lips over his, he parted them as a jolt of electricity
coursed through him. Taking his face gently in her hands, she pressed her lips firmly against his
and sent him reeling from the pleasure of it. Unable to control himself any longer, he gathered her
to him and kissed her back until there was no air left in his lungs to sustain him. Only then did he
reluctantly release her. She snuggled back into her position next to him and was soon asleep
again. After a while Fin followed suit. Come morning, neither one of them would acknowledge
the kiss.