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People said meeting your soulmate meant an instant rush of emotions, a feedback loop that intensified everything until you lived on the high of the euphoria it produced. People didn't know what they were talking about. But then, with less than five percent of the population ever meeting their soulmate, it wasn't surprising that the stories and the reality had little in common.
"I'm not sure I'm up to being a mentor this year, Ron," Bailey said to his friend Ron Carlson, who also happened to be in charge of the Academy classes.
"Do me this favor, then," said Ron, "because I think this one needs you. She's got a real gift, a diamond in the raw; just needs a bit of polish."
"And I'm the polishing wheel?" Bailey raised his eyebrows.
"You're the best profiler I know of, and this one needs training by the best."
Bailey sighed. "All right, what's her name?"
"Samantha Anderson."
"When do you want me to meet her?" asked Bailey.
"She should be here for my next class in a couple minutes," Ron said.
Which was how Bailey found himself shaking the hand of a young blonde. Her blue eyes radiated intelligence, and he started to see what Ron might have been saying. "It's nice to meet you, Samantha," he said.
"Call me Sam," she replied.
"I hear you have the makings of an excellent profiler," said Bailey. "I'm looking forward to checking the truthfulness of that rumor." He dropped his hand and let her take her seat to start class.
The meeting had been innocuous, ordinary. No sparks or electric shocks, no burst of color in one's vision. There was no indication of anything unusual, and Bailey was blissfully ignorant of the import of that meeting—for a few weeks.
"These are copies of the case notes," Bailey said, handing Sam a folder. He pushed his office door further open to get past her chair and settled back into his desk. "See if you see anything interesting."
He smiled at her instant concentration as he opened his own copy and began to read and think. Some minutes later, a frisson of excitement ran through him and he nearly startled. He hadn't seen anything…
"Aha!" Sam declared, a note of triumph in her voice. "Got the son-of-a-bitch; he…"
Her words washed over Bailey in a haze as he realized—it wasn't his excitement he felt.
Oh. Oh.
He concentrated on breathing slowly and steadily, on numbing his feelings. He was proud of himself when, once Sam's torrent of words had flowed to a stop, he was able to calmly congratulate her on the insight, and make sure it was recorded properly to be sent on to the detectives working the case.
He then bid her goodbye for the day, making an excuse about an errand he'd forgotten. For Janet. His wife. He could be many things, but an adulterer wasn't one of them.
He let the numbness continue to surround him until he reached the local library, where he headed straight for the section on soulmates and began to browse. Soulmates for Dummies, Soulmate Theory, Real Soulmates… He finally settled on a slim book titled So You Just Met Your Soulmate. The title fit, at least, and the simple Q&A format was inviting.
A few minutes later, he found what he was hoping for, and his finger trailed over the lines as he absorbed each word:
Is it possible to keep your soulmate from knowing you're their soulmate too?
Before you've met your soulmate, the bond hasn't activated, so there's no chance of your soulmate knowing who you are. Once you've met and the bond has activated, it becomes much more difficult.
The main way for a someone to recognize they have met their soulmate is for them to feel their soulmate's emotions. This means that to have any hope of preventing your soulmate from recognizing the connection between you, they must not feel your emotions.
It's impossible for someone to never feel any emotions, but several studies with established soulmate pairs found that it was possible to block the emotional broadcasting and prevent one's soulmate from feeling one's emotions. All studies showed this to be a one-way action, as blocking emotions shared with one's soulmate didn't affect the ability to receive emotions from the soulmate.
He studied the description of the technique used for blocking, burning it into his memory. Then he followed the directions, visualizing the wall around his heart without any chinks. When he was sure he had established it properly, he exhaled in a sigh of relief, opening eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed. And then he let himself feel.
Of all times, of all people… Why now? Why her? They had only begun to work together, and Ron was absolutely right; she was going to be better than Bailey, even. Who else could he trust to guide her, to mentor her properly? And if Janet ever found out that he knew who his soulmate was…
He slid the book back on the shelf and strode out of the library. Back in his car, he clutched the steering wheel tightly and bowed his head till it touched the wheel. The revelation explained so much about his relationship with Sam Anderson so far—why they had immediately clicked, why he always felt better in her presence, why he'd been so contented lately. He swore mentally. He would have to be always on guard now, never letting the block fade. Working with her from here on out was going to be heaven and hell…
"Tom, I wanted you to meet Bailey Malone, my mentor at Quantico. Bailey, this is Tom Waters. I've been seeing him."
Bailey stood and held out a hand, which was met with a firm grip. The other man had a steady gaze as he assessed Bailey, and clearly adored Sam, if the way he looked at her was any indication. Bailey wanted to find something about him to dislike, but even if he could find a minor fault, Sam wouldn't take kindly to him interfering, he knew. He clamped down on the block even harder. "It's nice to meet you," he lied.
"Do you, Samantha Anderson, take Thomas Waters to be your lawfully wedded husband…"
Bailey tuned out the words of the officiant, checking that the block was still intact. It must be, because he was being washed with waves of joy that only slightly assuaged the internal agony. He pasted a happy smile on, bright enough to fool Janet and the girls.
The greatest test of his self-control was during his one dance with Sam. "I'm happy for you," he said, and it wasn't entirely a lie. He simply didn't mention the pain that outweighed that little bit of vicarious happiness.
Sam was too much in her own world of bliss to notice anything off about his delivery. She beamed at him as they gently twirled around the dance floor. "Thanks, Bail."
"Janet—" he began.
"Don't 'Janet' me. You're never here. You like to give me a hard time for looking elsewhere for just a little bit, but you've been elsewhere for years now!"
Bailey froze inwardly. Could she possibly know…?
Janet continued, "All you do is work! You spend so much time there, it's like your second wife. If you'd found your soulmate, I'd understand, but there's no excuse for this. If work is more important to you than me and the girls, there's no point in us staying together." Her tirade subsided, and she sounded weary as she said, "I'll have my lawyer draw up the papers."
A pang ran through Bailey at the thought of losing the girls, but a part of him was also relieved that he wouldn't lose Sam as well. Janet was closer to the truth than she knew—seeing Sam each day at work made the world that bit brighter. How could he not want to work?
Bailey thanked whatever bit of fortune still remained for him that he had gotten the phone call about Tom first, and not Sam. "I'll tell her," he told the cop on the other end of the line, who thanked him. For sparing them, he figured.
He chickened out when he actually called her, though. How could he deliver the words that would break his own heart as well as hers? He settled for telling her something had happened and she needed to leave the class she was teaching at the Academy and return home. He felt, rather than heard, her suspicion and worry, which only grew as she drove home.
Bailey made his own way home, grateful that he didn't live far away, and that no one else lived with him anymore. How could he ever explain how he knew the moment when Sam came home, the moment her worry turned into panic, the moment she realized her husband was dead? He sobbed her heartbreak into his pillow in an otherwise-empty bed, and wondered how he would be able to support her emotionally without collapsing himself.
"I can't do it anymore," Sam told him, her face wooden. Someone looking at her might have thought she was calm, coping even.
Bailey fought to master the incoming waves of grief and fear while keeping the block up—and responding in like fashion. "I understand." Words truer than she could ever know. Only he didn't have the luxury of quitting, not if he wanted the secret to remain intact. And it truly did help a little to know that the feelings weren't originally his. "Where will you go?"
"Angel's offered to let me stay at her farm. Don't tell anyone where I am?"
"I promise," he said. He opened his arms, and she stepped into them, a goodbye hug that brought tears to his eyes as he felt Sam's sadness at leaving him.
He returned to the profiling offices the next day, the rooms seemingly duller and emptier than they had been before, and buried himself in cases for three years. Until the day he was called to consult on a case he couldn't crack, and his heart leapt with joy at an excuse to see her again.
Bailey followed Sam, Grace, John, and Nathan off the helicopter and into the elevator. George rose to meet them when they stepped off, handing Bailey a folder. "The case made the news for the entire state," George said.
"The public loves anything to do with soulmates. A serial killer targeting soulmates is the plot for at least two movies that I know of," Grace said with a shrug.
"It's a lot of BS, is what it is," John said. "How many people do you know that are soulmates? I've never met mine."
"Are you saying you don't think they exist?" Nathan asked. "'Cause my parents would beg to differ."
John grimaced, probably as much of an apology as he was going to give. "Obviously they exist, but they're a way bigger deal than they ought to be. I mean, Grace, are you and Morgan—?"
"No," said Grace flatly.
John looked at George. "You—"
George shook his head before John said another word, and John's eyes landed on Nathan.
"Don't look at me, man, I've never met mine either," said Nathan.
John suddenly seemed to realize the only people left were Sam and Bailey, and coughed a little self-consciously.
"Tom and I weren't," Sam said in a quiet voice.
Bailey knew he would have to say something or look suspicious. He drew on every bit of calm to state, "Nor Janet and I."
"I rest my case," John said. "If Hollywood didn't focus so much on soulmates, maybe we wouldn't get serial killers going after them."
"They'd just select their victims differently," Bailey said with a sigh, flipping through the folder. "Like the case we just got from LA. Briefing in ten minutes."
"Hey," Sam greeted as she pushed open the door into Bailey's room. Her voice was a little hesitant, as if she wasn't sure if she should be there or not.
Bailey couldn't help the smile that split his face. "Getting somewhere with the case?"
She nodded without speaking, pulling up a chair to sit by his bed. Once seated, she stared at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers.
Bailey let her fidget for a few seconds before he reached out to touch her arm.
She nearly jumped.
"Sam, what is it?"
She chewed on her lip a little. "When I first woke up after Jack kidnapped me, I felt a wave of terror that wasn't mine. I only knew it wasn't mine because it cut off abruptly. I… didn't let myself think about it, because I was trying to survive." She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
Bailey could hardly breathe. It hadn't occurred to him that the block might not survive him getting injured or nearly dying. He was used to setting it up as soon as he woke, and had done so once he was conscious, but clearly that hadn't been enough.
Sam continued, eyes still not meeting his. "And then when you came out of surgery and woke as you passed me in the hall, I felt worry and concern. It cut out pretty quick, and hasn't been back, but it was enough that…" She suddenly looked at him directly. "I have to know—are you my soulmate? Or did I just imagine it, or confuse your feelings with someone else's?"
In for a penny, in for a pound, Bailey thought, and smiled, dropping the block. He let all the love and adoration he had for her stream out of his heart.
Sam's eyes filled with tears, and she captured one of his hands in hers. "You've known all this time?"
"Since a few weeks after we first met," he admitted. "I was with Janet, and by the time that ended you had Tom."
Sam nodded, her watery gaze never leaving his.
"I couldn't be that kind of man," said Bailey. "I wasn't going to cheat on Janet, or leave her for you, and… Tom made you happy. I only wanted you to be happy. Even if it meant you being with someone else. Like Coop," he added, watching her face carefully.
Sam's eyes fell. "I don't know how to tell him," she said. "I had to ask you, and until I did, I couldn't even bring it up."
"It's pretty simple," Bailey said, smiling a little. "Tell him you found your soulmate. I think he's the kind of guy who will understand that."
"I think he wished I was his," Sam said. "We didn't really talk about it, but if he'd felt my emotions he would have said something. I never felt his. Not like this." She snapped her eyes to his, almost fearful. "Have you been feeling everything I feel all this time?"
"Yes," Bailey said. "Joy, grief, and everything in between. I wished I could block it out, to spare you the invasion of privacy, but scientists haven't figured out a way to do that yet; you can only control what you send. And I couldn't tell you to block it without telling you the truth about us, and I didn't want to deal with that or make you decide anything."
"Why didn't you say something before now, like at the beginning of the VCTF?" Sam asked.
Bailey gave her a rueful smile. "Habit, I suppose. And fear. I could live knowing you were there and I might see you again, but if you'd rejected me…"
Her face softened and she squeezed his hand. "I'd be rejecting myself," she said. "You've always been the closest friend I've had besides Angel, and I can't imagine trying to live a life without you in it."
Bailey wrapped his hand around hers and brought it to his lips. At this point he didn't need to look at Sam to know exactly how she felt. Love was beaming back at him, along with a little bit of being overwhelmed.
"This explains a lot about how I've felt about you…" she said, trailing off. "It's easier to be with you than with anyone else."
Bailey could have stared into Sam's eyes for hours, but her pager suddenly went off.
She fumbled with it, then read it. "'Call VCTF'. I'd better do that. Be right back." She returned in a couple minutes. "Break in the case, I've got to go."
"You want me to leave you feeling everything right now or wait until you've caught him? I can set the block back up if you don't want the distraction," Bailey offered. A part of him worried that Sam would take the easy way out and avoid dealing with THEM, but he could feel her warring emotions.
"You'd better set it back up for now," she said reluctantly. "When we catch this guy, though…"
"Just let me know." He smiled at her warmly, sending one last burst of love and happiness before putting the block into place.
Sam stood, bending over to kiss his cheek. "Get better, OK?"
"Will do. Stay safe."
The memory of her smile at him before she turned to leave sustained him through the rest of his hospital stay.
"Not yet," Sam whispered in Bailey's ear when he kissed her temple after his "homecoming" speech to the VCTF.
He nodded slightly, but John was there before they could talk further. By the time he and John had finished restoring their relationship, he'd lost sight of Sam. He concentrated on the emotions—regret, mild affection, a little pity—and made his guess. Poor Coop, he thought.
A half hour later, the door to his office opened, and Sam walked in, a hesitant smile on her face.
Apprehension and love mixed with fear washed over Bailey. He dropped the block and let the reassurance/love he felt flow back to her. He mentally thanked the janitors for leaving the blinds the way they were—closed—as he stood and crossed the room to her.
There were no words as their lips slowly closed the distance between each other. The resulting feedback loop when they met nearly made him stagger. So that was what the soulmate stories were all about! He finally broke the kiss, gasping for air, and leaned his forehead against hers, draping his arms loosely around her.
Sam did the same to him, and they stood in that position for what seemed like an hour but was probably less than a minute. Contentment and joy rippled through him, and he couldn't tell where his emotions ended and Sam's began, until he sensed a note of anxiety creeping in.
"What is it, Sam?" He pulled back to study her face.
"What about Jack?" she whispered. "He isn't going to back off just because I have a soulmate. If he goes after you…" she trailed off, and a spike of fear shot through her and into Bailey.
Bailey took a deep breath, planning his words carefully. "He might."
Sam met his gaze, and the sense of worry coming from her only intensified.
Bailey continued, "But you and me—we're stronger together than we are alone. And if you hold me at arm's length because you think Jack will spare me that way… Sam, you'd be hurting yourself more than anyone. Because there's no way I'm going to hide how I feel from you anymore."
Sam's eyes filled with tears, and Bailey was swamped with love/fear. He lifted his hands to cradle her face, using his thumbs to wipe the corners of her eyes. "I love you, Sam," he said simply.
She threw her arms around him in response, and he clasped her to him tightly, rubbing her back as she cried. He met her waves of fear with love and reassurance again, and ran his fingers along her scalp and through her hair until she calmed down.
Bailey didn't hear her reciprocate the declaration of love then, but he didn't need to; he'd gotten a good dose of her feelings over the past few days. During the day, she compartmentalized, focused on the case and the tasks ahead of her, but at night, before she went to sleep, her love for him had swirled throughout his soul. There was no doubt about how she felt.
At last Sam's contentment at being held started to be replaced with slight restlessness, and she stepped back.
Bailey dropped his arms from around her, but cupped her cheek with one hand. "What do you say?" he asked, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "Together?"
Sam nodded once, a brief tilt of the head.
Certainty flowed through Bailey's heart, even before he heard her reply.
"Together."