Author's Notes: At the LiveJournal Community we had a challenge to write a story of love gone wrong. I did one Skewed Story, one Believer, and one Saber, this is the Saber love gone wrong tale.
Sam was furious as she listened to Bailey. He'd opened her mail at work and was criticizing her for having ordered a vibrator. Since she had started dating him after Coop died, Bailey had gone from fun and passionate to brusque. While she understood he saw her as Francis' future step mother, she was a woman and she had needs. It was bad enough that Bailey had demanded she wear longer skirt and wear her hair in a conservative updo, but opening a package addressed to her was just too much.
It was, Sam knew, the alcohol that was affecting him. Anymore it seemed like everytime she walked into his office he had a glass of scotch and at home he seemed to never stop drinking. Several times she had tried confronting him, she loved him and didn't want him to do this to their relationship or to his strained relationship with his daughter. In the last three months she'd gone from bedmate to little more than glorified nanny and Sam was fed up.
"You had no right-"
"I have every right! Damn it Sam I thought you were above such things," Bailey told her in a paternal tone.
Above such things? That's right good old Sam. So understanding and always does the right thing. Good mother Sam, mother to Chloe and future stepmother to Francis. Be an example, be good, be everything right and wholesome. Just don't be a woman. Don't have needs. Good mommy Sam shouldn't want to have a sex life or want to cum! Sam seethed in silent rage.
"Bailey we need to talk about your drinking," Sam said softly.
"I don't have a problem Sam. And if I do I wouldn't if you would just-" he trailed off. Throwing the small box into his wastebasket, Bailey declared, "Once we catch Jack tonight at the prison, things will be fine. You don't need to indulge in this sort of perversion Sam."
Furious at his dismissal, she snapped, "If you didn't drink so damn much, you would be able to get it up and satisfy me!"
Sam ran from Bailey's office to the ladies room and cried. God only knew she'd tried to understand. But lying next to him night after night, aching to be touched and him literally passing out hurt. Competing with the job, competing with his family, hell even competing with another woman would be one thing, but competing with a bottle of scotch was impossible. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was looking far older than her 35 years and it was depressing.
That evening at the prison, Sam was dressing in an orange jumpsuit for the plan to capture Jack. While she dressed Bailey alternately comforted her and sniped at her. The odor of alcohol was distinct on his breath. At any other job, Bailey would have been fired many times over. As it was if he didn't get his drinking in hand soon, he would be risking his position at the VCTF. George had been forced to help cover up several mistakes Bailey had made and John and Grace had voiced worries about Bailey to her.
"Bailey when this is over, we need to talk about us," Sam told him.
"Damn it Sam. Don't blame me for your problems!" Bailey yelled and grabbed her arm and shook her slightly.
"I have to get into position," Sam told him and walked away.
As Sam waited to spring the trap on Jack, she was torn between anger and concern for Bailey. Although she loved him, his drinking had changed him and she couldn't go on like this. Wanting to have the man she cared about make love to her and be there for her, shouldn't be a problem. Bailey was spiraling out of control and he didn't want to change. Unless he wanted to change there was no hope.
When the plan unfolded, Sharon got loose and Sam shot her in front of Jack. Bailey gruffly told her it wasn't her fault and went off to oversee the operation to capture Jack. The facility was in lockdown and everyone had to be screened before they could leave. Samantha couldn't decide how she felt about shooting Sharon. Part of her felt badly and part of her was pleased.
Standing in front of Sharon's cell, Sam considered what happened. When Bailey came up behind her and touched her shoulder she allowed him to lead her outside. Sam was a little surprised, it was the most affectionate that Bailey had been in ages. Trying to open up a conversation she talked to him about the shooting.
"When I pulled the trigger, it was like I wasn't there," Sam confided.
Behind her, Bailey whispered against the back of her neck, "Jill is meaningless."
His hands were on either side of her shoulders as he murmured in her ear, "Look out there Sam. That's where he is."
Something gave Sam pause, Bailey was acting differently. His next words sent a shiver up her spine.
"Jack is the priority. Focus on Jack," the man behind her instructed.
Bailey never let go of their arguments so easily and Sam could feel he was slightly aroused as he pressed against her. This wasn't Bailey. He might look like Bailey Malone, but this wasn't Bailey Malone.
In her ear he murmured seductively, "It's all about him and you."
Sam turned around slowly and kissed the man behind her. There was no alcohol on his breath only the faint taste of mint and tobacco. Jack! Her mind screamed. She was kissing Jack! Jack was evil incarnate and a damn fine kisser. You love Bailey. Bailey wants a mother for Francis and leaves you untouched night after night. This is so wrong. This is, oh God, so damn good, she thought as their lips touched.
"Let's get out of here," Sam suggested.
"Saman- uh Sam I don't think-"
"Let's get some breakfast," she interrupted and drug him to her SUV in the parking lot.
This is insane! This is wrong. You love Bailey. You love an alcoholic. Jack kills people. He kills for me, he kills for love. Bailey loves scotch, not Sam. Jack is obsessed, it's not love. Isn't it? The line between love and hate was a hair width apart. When Bailey opened her mail and criticized her earlier today, the rage Sam felt was close to hate. Hadn't every person Jack killed been to bring them closer together? Night after night of Bailey passing out, Sam had come to hate him as much as she loved him Did the erotic promise of Jack's mouth mean she could love him? Tonight she had killed Sharon in nearly cold blood and Sam hadn't disliked the feeling.
Pulling into the parking lot of a diner far away from the prison, Sam looked over at her passenger and ordered, "Take the mask off and get rid of the lifts in your shoes, Jack."
Shocked, Jack spluttered, "Sam what are you saying?"
"Samantha," she corrected. Smiling she added, "I think it's time we have our first date."
Still in shock, Jack peeled off the mask as she ordered. Samantha was pleased with the face underneath and when Jack slipped the lifts out of his shoes and put them back on she got out of the SUV. Almost shyly, Jack stopped Samantha and kissed her before they went on their first date. Bailey had his bottle and Samantha would have Jack...