Here's a little Liv/Sam oneshot because I think Sam Weiss is an underutilized character.
This story takes place around the time episode 2.20, 'Northwest Passage' begins.
Am I a Liv/Sam shipper? Definitely not. But Sam Weiss knows when Olivia needs comforting.
Unbetaed. You know I don't own Fringe. Please review if you like it.
Sam Weiss watched as Olivia Dunham shot up her tenth FBI paper target a good distance away. He noted that her aim was spot on and her hands steady. He felt a certain sense of pride in being partly responsible for that.
Leaning against the shooting range wall Sam hesitated for a moment, wondering if he really ought to go to her. He had felt her mental angst for days now, and it made his human bones vibrate with pain for her. That, of course, was not the reason for his hesitancy. He would do anything to help this particular woman, who had touched his heart like no other human ever had. He hesitancy lay in knowing what lay ahead for her. She was not his and never would be. He accepted that like he accepted all the other negatives in his lonely earthly life. Sam wondered if there would truly be any repercussions if he got involved with her. There had always been threats and warnings since his arrival in this universe not to get involved with the earthlings. He was surprised he hadn't heard any stories about any of his kind breaking those rules and the aftermath. Maybe no one ever disobeyed.
C'mon, he said to himself. You believe really believe that?
Setting her Glock down, Olivia took a pause in her shooting practice. She depressed the button and target number 10 made its slow way back to her for her viewing pleasure. Sam Weiss made his decision. Taking a deep breath her approached her hoping not to scare her.
"Well done, Agent Dunham. Looks like you've got your groove back." Sam said with a genuine smile, trying hard not to let the sadness he felt radiating off her reach his eyes.
Olivia Dunham quickly turned to look at him. The surprise registering on her face for only a moment replaced again by an empty, sleepless stare.
"Sam. Hi. You checking up on me?" Olivia asked trying to sound like she had it together. She glanced down at her watch. "At 11:05PM?"
Sam Weiss couldn't help gazing into her eyes and saw the depths of her suffering in the green orbs. Despite the fact that Walter Bishop had swiped Peter from the other universe and covered it up for 24 years, Sam still felt Peter Bishop was a Grade A fool. He absolutely hated what Peter's course of action was doing to the woman standing before him. She deserved so much better. Sam was eternally grateful that Olivia would never know that as the two of them stood in the FBI shooting range, Peter was arranging a rendezvous with a young waitress in a small town in Washington state.
Sam took a deep breath and let it go, clearing his mind.
"Just checking on my star student." He gave her another honest smile. "Fancy another game of Clue?"
Slowly the corners of Olivia's mouth turned up a little and she snickered. The sound was music to Sam's ears. He figured it was the first laugh she'd had in awhile.
'That the best line you got, Sam Weiss?" she asked tiredly, tucking her Glock back into her shoulder holster and walking toward him.
"Nah, I got better. But I wouldn't use them on you, 're too special." Sam winced at the last part, hoping she thought he was still joking with her. To his relief she just gave him a smirk, and they both headed toward the door.
The ride in the SUV back to her place was quiet except for the radio softly playing 'If You Only Knew' by Shinedown. The irony was not lost on Sam and he sighed trying hard to think of something to say that would turn her mouth up again.
"Do all the Boston Fibbies get such a nice ride, Dunham? Or did you just catch the right bad guy?"
Olivia looked over at her unlikely passenger and smirked.
"Hardly. This is my third one. Third time's the charm I guess." She tried not to let her mind wonder to the events that totalled her previous two work issue SUV's. She was relieved when Sam did not ask more questions. He always seemed to know when to stay quiet.
Olivia stared at Sam Weiss out of the corner of her eye. What was she doing here, she wondered, driving Sam back to her place late at night? But she knew the answer. She just wanted to talk with someone who knew her, and other than Broyles, Astrid, and Walter. Conversation with them was just all around depressing. Hell, her whole life was. And the one person she really wanted to talk with and apologize to had left her. Maybe forever. Maybe a beer or two and a board game with her former 'therapist' were what she needed tonight. Maybe afterwards she could actually sleep for a change.
Olivia found a parking place right in front of her building. She killed the engine and she and Sam exited and started for the stairs. Watching Sam walk in front of her toward the front door Olivia reflected on the last time Sam was at her place and his strange demeanor. And how she practically shoved him out her door when she made the discovery of the Jacksonville pre-school list being significant in the case they were investigating at the time. When she had needed to see Peter. Her mind stopped at the mention of his name and she swallowed hard. No. Give it a rest, she thought to herself.
They took the stairs to her floor and Sam watched her hands as she unlocked her apartment door.
Olivia flicked on the lights and the place looked as Sam had rememberd it. He knew her sister and niece were away and they would have the place to themselves. He took a seat on the sofa and watched as Olivia walked into the kitchen. She returned quickly with a bottle of Jack Daniels and two glasses, and poured them both a few fingers worth.
"What do you want to play?" Olivia asked Sam lifting her glass to her mouth.
"Do you have 'Sorry'? He asked already knowing the answer.
"I do," Olivia answered. She took a few steps to the a large wooden cabinet and quickly finding it, set it on the coffee table between them.
"What color do you want, Olivia?" Sam asked her, already knowing the answer.
"I'll be anything but yellow. Yellow always reminds me of yucky medicine." As soon as the words left her mouth the image of Jacksonville shot into her head. She took a large swallow of her drink and successfully shooed the image away.
"OK then. Why don't you be green for 'go'?"
Olivia nodded her head. "Sounds good. What color will you be?"
Sam locked eyes with her. "I'll be red."
Olivia nodded once. "Let's play. You first." She handed Sam the die.
"OK. You're playing with the pro here. Good luck, Dunham." He wnked at her as he lifted his drink again.
Well into the second game and second drink, Sam was beating her ass, again.
"Sorry, Olivia," Sam whined sending her player back to the start.
"How many times have you played this, Sam? Is this part of everyone's therapy session at some point with you?" Olivia rubbed her arms feeling a bit chilly. It was after 1AM and in typical Boston fashion the temperature had dropped significantly from earlier. She looked around the living room to see if she had left a sweater somewhere.
Her eyes caught a grey object on one of the chairs and she clumsily grabbed at it thinking it was hers. What caught in her hand was not what she expected, and it wasn't hers. She stared at the MIT logo on the grey long-sleeved t-shirt and all the images came flooding back. Her lips quivered and she could not tamp the sobs in her throat.
Sam sat on the floor watching as Olivia Dunham fell apart. His heart ached for her. He had to do something. Screw the rules.
"Hey. Come here, Olivia," he called softly.
Sobbing loudly now Olivia walked over to where Sam was sitting and sat next to him, wiping her eyes as she did. She couldn't even talk. Didn't know what to say to him. But somehow she figured he already knew. He always seemed to know about her. She didn't try to hold back the tears. She felt like she was drowning in them. There was some small comfort in the fact that Sam was there. Maybe he could help her. A part of her felt that Peter would return but another part of her felt hopeless. They had all left her. John. Charlie. Peter. All the important men in her life had left.
Sam enveloped her in his arms. He inhaled her scent and swore he would memorize it for forever.
"Hey. Get it all out. You're gonna be fine. In time. You will. I promise you, Olivia. Really."
Sam had no idea how long they sat like that on the floor. At some point the sobbing turned into just sniffing. He ever so delicately kissed the top of her head, knowing his time there with her woudl be ending soon.
He helped her to get up and lie down on the sofa. Then he put his warm hands on her head as he knelt on her carpet.
Olivia closed her eyes as she lay there, trusting this strange man who had helped her after the accident. Suddenly she felt a great sense of warmth radiating from her head downward, like a waterfall. Like warm arms wrapping themselves around her everywhere. Arms of healing.
Sam lost himself in her. He had crossed the line and was in Olivia Dunham's head, heart, and eveywhere else. He knew this was the closest he could ever get to this woman and accepted it.
He knew she would sleep well for the rest of the night. Probably the first decent sleep she'd have in months. Sam wished he could do more for her, but it was not time for that yet. He would go to her, to them, when it was time for interevention.
With a heavy sigh, Sam removed his hands from Olivia's forehead. He got off the floor and leaned over her.
"Sleep well sweet Olivia." he said in her ear.
Sam Weiss stood up, gave Olivia Dunham one more look and then walked out of her apartment and into the dark night.
Olivia was awakened by the incessant ringing of her portable phone. She opened her eyes to see she had fallen asleep on her couch. Again. She got up and followed the sound and picked up the phone.
"Dunham," she said, stretching.
"You OK?" her boss Phillip Broyles asked from the other end. "It's 10AM. I figured you needed the rest, so this is the first I called."
"Uh, thank you sir. I'll be there as soon as I can," she told him a litle embarassed.
"I know you will. Bye."
"Bye." As Olivia hung up and looked around the room she realized how calm she felt. As though she'd had a long rest. She realized then she couldn't remember anything that happened after going to the shooting gallery the night before-the third time she had been there this week. All she knew was that she felt pretty good for a change. Hopeful. Stronger. Shaking her head she started up the stairs to get ready for work.