This is my first story that I've ever had the courage to publish on here. Stranded is told from both characters point of views and I really hope you enjoy it as much I am enjoying writing it!

Lots of thanks to QueenofYourWorld for taking the time to read each chapter and give me great feedback - couldn't have done this without you!

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Stranded - Part 1

(Sam POV)

The rain taps out a steady beat against the windowpane, as I flick through my magazine. Curled against me is Toby, his eyes unblinking as he watches the figures move around the TV screen. It's past his bedtime, but I'm trying to be 'cool' and let him stay up late, just this once. He's bugged me all day and all evening, until finally, I gave in. I have no idea why he wanted to watch it, but it's kept him quiet for the past half hour and that's a blessing.

Outside, a car door slams shut and my head shoots up. Who the hell is driving through the village at this time and think to stop? Nothing is open. The village's one pub would have shut its doors five minutes ago, although it was probably empty by nine. I lean back and pull the curtain aside. The rain blurs my vision, but I can make out a car, with its bonnet open, and two men huddled over it. Across the street, I can see lights flick on and then off as the elderly neighbours inspect the noise and consider their options: police or sleep. Toby starts to fidget and I realise that the show has now switched to an ad break.

"C'mon mate," I say, putting my magazine to one side and wrapping an arm around him. "I think it's time you went to bed."

He shakes his head stubbornly. "No. I'm wide-awake. Honest."

I chuckle and reach for the remote. He protests, but then is silent as he watches me press record via Sky plus. I grin down at him and raise my eyebrows. He carries on with his protest again, as I follow him up the stairs, into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and finally to bed. I pull the covers up around his ears and kiss his forehead.

I switch the light off and stand at the end of the bed, as Toby starts to doze. The curtain is slightly open, so he can still see by the light of the lamppost. My curiosity gets the better of me and I peer out. The car is still there, its inner and outer lights gleaming. One man is still outside, the other inside. I can't hear the engine and I presume that they can't either. I chew my bottom lip. I glance back at Toby and see that he is sound asleep already. I creep past him and down the stairs as quietly as I can.

I tug on my boots and set about searching for my jacket and keys. I peer out of the window and still seeing their predicament, I finally make my mind up. Opening the front door, I secure the latch and then cross the street.

(Randy's POV)

I try the engine again. Nothing. This is fucking stupid. I hear, or rather feel, Jeff's frustration as he slams his hand down on the metal work. And then I hear a voice.

"Hello?"

"Hey?"

"Do you need a hand?"

"A what?"

"Do you need any help?"

"Thanks, but we're okay."

Okay?! Jesus Jeff, we need all the fucking help we need. Why the hell did we decide to drive ourselves to Manchester, wherever the hell that is? And why the hell did we decide to go the back way, instead of sticking to the freeway or motorway or whatever it's called over here? I try to see what this ever so helpful person looks like. But I can't see anything out of the side windows and the bonnet blocks the windscreen. Whoever it is, is telling Jeff about a bed and breakfast. He doesn't seem that interested. But I am. I get out of the car.

Jeff is huddled over the engine, doing god knows what. Next to him is a girl. She's wearing jeans and a black duffle coat with the hood up. Her face is pale in comparison and is framed by both the hood and dark hair. She's biting her lip and looking awkward.

"Hi," I offer.

"Hi."

I turn to Jeff. "How's it doing?"

"It's a fucking piece of junk. Where the hell did you find this? In some fucking dumpster?" Jeff says bitterly. I shrug and turn back to the girl.

"I heard you mention somewhere to stay?"

"Yeah. It's just down the road, Mrs. Elkin, she's really lovely. I'm sure she has a spare room or two."

"Right. Thanks. Look, my cell is useless here, something about not being able to receive European signal or something…" I fumble in my pocket and show her.

"No problem," she smiles. "Use mine."

She gestures for me to follow and I do. Jeff rolls his eyes at me and slams the bonnet down. I follow her inside her a house with a red front door. She kicks her shoes off and they hit the wall with a thud. She freezes for a second and glances up the stairs. Who does she think is going to hear or care? She shrugs off her coat and leads me to the kitchen.

"Phone's there." she pointed to a small brown table along the wall.

"Thanks." I pick up the receiver, dial and listen to the tone. "Hi Vince… It's Orton… Me and Jeff, we're, well we're stuck in the back end of nowhere… Yeah… Well I know that… Look, I dunno… We'll find… Tomorrow, yes… Okay… Okay! I'll phone tomorrow." Vince was not pleasant to say the least about their current situation. I replace the receiver and smile at the girl.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"Manchester, apparently."

"Why are you driving at this time?"

"Because we need to get there for tomorrow morning."

"Oh. What do you do?" I could the curiously on her face.

I feel myself redden slightly. I have never ever been embarrassed by my career choice before, but in front of her, I do. She's watching me carefully, as if maybe she's seen me somewhere before. Her eyes pierce through me and I feel slightly intimidated.

'We're in… we do entertainment shows.' he smiled awkwardly.

(Sam POV)

For the first time, I look at him properly and internally debate exactly what he means by entertainment shows. I take in his height, his width, yet muscular build, the jeans that cling in all the right places, the tight grey t-shirt and the leather jacket. I try not to smirk, but he notices.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing." I arrange my face quickly into a neutral expression.

"So this Mrs Elkin…?" he trailed off.

"Yeah, take a left out of here to the end of the street, then right and it's literally next to the pub. The pub's called The Bluebottle and her place is the red door next to it. Seriously, she'll be awake and if she isn't, her daughter will be and she'll sort you both out."

"Thanks." He starts to go to the door.

"If you need the phone again," I say.

"Sure." He opens the door and then turns around to face me.

"I never got your name."

"It's Sam."

He holds out a hand and I take it. He squeezes it, almost tenderly. "Hi Sam…" he breathes. "My name's Randy."