This takes place after the GMC hearing, where Sam becomes increasingly uneasy with one of her patients and the consequences of that. Enjoy! X

Unwanted Attentions – Part 1

Her reflection was cold and harsh where the artificial light cast its glare across her face, every flaw and imperfection magnified tenfold. Olive eyes scanned the damage the nightmare had done to her appearance, noting with a critical eye that her bottom lip was bleeding where her teeth had worried away the surface flesh. It had been worse than the others, though she was unable to recall what exactly had made it so terrifying compared with the rest. All she could dredge up from the hazy mess that was her dreams was the fear. It felt palpable to her even now, pressing against her chest and crushing the still frantically beating heart inside.

She glanced again at the exhausted, ashen face before her, the reddening patch of skin beneath each eye, and finally the hard pupils staring out at her, full of bitterness and regret. It had been a long time since she had looked in the mirror and actually felt pleased with what she had seen, but then again, what did she expect when she still hated herself completely? This was nothing but the reflection of a guilty woman, finally paying the price for her mistake.

Shuffling across to the shower, every muscle aching from having slept in awkward positions on both her bed and then, after some hours, the floor, she pulled off her strappy top and shorts and stepped inside. The steam enveloped her almost immediately, the initial drizzle of tepid water suddenly hammering her back in a soothing rhythm. Sam rolled her shoulders as her bones creaked beneath the comforting heat, feeling the heavy exhaustion diminish to a milder tiredness. Her eyes began to sting from the shampoo, and she blinked furiously before exiting the shower and grabbing a fresh towel from the rack.

The morning had begun, she thought to herself, and now all she had to look forward to was snatched glances at her husband before returning home to an empty flat. It was a lonely existence for someone so young, but she didn't linger on that particular notion, knowing she was already sinking to rock bottom without the aid of depressing thoughts dragging her down any further.

…

Her morning jog had done nothing to appease the crippling fear of last night's dream, but as unnerving as it had been, she was used to pushing such emotions to the back of her mind where she would confront them later. It was not the first quality life had forced her to perfect over the years – Dylan, the army and her general inability to deal with emotions had seen to that.

And on entering the ED for yet another unimaginably long shift, she quickly found there was little time to dwell on whatever her mind refused to let go. There had been a major traffic collision only fifteen minutes before she had arrived, and every doctor was needed as patient after patient entered resus. Tom had already been to the scene, reporting back that there were two other patients yet to arrive – one with a serious head wound and another with just minor cuts and bruises.

Knowing that burying herself in her work was a wise decision, Sam quickly resolved that she would deal with the more critical patient, but once both casualties were admitted, she found herself being ordered by a rather harassed Zoe to take the gentleman with the superficial wounds. It felt as though she had just been taken down a peg or two, but brushed off the burning sense of humiliation and gave a brusque nod towards Dr Hanna. Sam may not like the woman all that much, but she wasn't about to let it show. She was a professional first and foremost, and she was going to make damn sure her patient got the best possible care, if only to show Zoe that she wasn't the hothead she believed her to be.

In the end, however, a few stitches and a clean dressing were all that was needed – less engrossing than the work she should have been doing in resus. Her patient was more than grateful, though, and thanked her warmly after she had finished suturing the wound to his arm.

"You came away lightly, considering," Sam remarked, pulling off her latex gloves and tossing the soiled cotton wool in the bin.

"I don't usually believe in luck or fate, but I don't think I could have been any luckier today if I tried," he said with a relieved smile. "And I'm definitely putting us meeting down to fate," he added, blue eyes watching her expectantly to gauge her reaction.

For a moment, Sam was completely unaware that he was attempting to flirt with her, so long had it been that anyone had taken an interest in her. It wasn't as though men didn't look at her anymore, but she tended to still wear her wedding ring on the rare occasions that she went out, and it seemed to put most of them off. And if that didn't work, her general lack of patience soon put an end to any flirtations.

It was for this reason that she gave a rather startled laugh and rubbed the back of her neck, feeling extremely awkward in the rather compact cubicle.

"Well, I'm of the opinion that decisions have more to do with these situations than stars aligning and God's will," she replied, trying not to focus on her own particular decision which had destroyed her marriage, and her life.

"I would have agreed with you before today, but some things just can't be explained with logic and facts. Sometimes there really is no other reason than it was just meant to be."

Sam nodded slowly, deciding it was time for her to discharge him and find another patient – preferably female.

"I'm Henry, by the way. And you?" he asked, sounding rather innocent as he watched her shift uncomfortably by the curtain.

Even though she knew it would be better to stop this now and simply ignore his question, those wide, blue eyes and ingenuous expression made her put her unease down to paranoia and lack of sleep.

"Sam. Dr Sam Nicholls."

He gave an eager nod and stretched over to shake her hand which she hesitantly accepted, now sure that it was time to end this conversation.

"Well, I think we're all done here. If you could just go to the reception desk to collect your hospital discharge letter and then you can leave."

Henry's smile faded as he realised this was goodbye, and he quickly jumped off the bed and grabbed her wrist. "When do you finish your shift?"

It was her army training which made her arm snap back, her reflexes heightened by a constant readiness for any kind of attack. Except he wasn't attacking her, and she had just sent him reeling back against the bed.

The sudden crash as he collapsed against the medical trolley resonated through the ED, drawing attention to the fact that either a patient or a member of staff was in trouble. Lenny had just exited the staffroom and he quickly rushed to pull back the curtain, surprised to find Dr Nicholls attempting to lift her patient off the floor.

"Trouble?" he asked as he helped pull the man to his feet, watching as her muscles tensed considerably under his stare.

"I was just about to discharge him…" she replied, trailing off mid-sentence as the patient lifted his head to look at her. They shared a second where they simply stared at one another, and the usually cocky, young doctor suddenly felt as though he was intruding on a private moment between them. Then Sam looked away, realising someone else was in the cubicle, and began sorting the scattered utensils into their rightful places.

Lenny had absolutely no idea what had occurred before he arrived, though he was now certain she wasn't telling him everything, but decided that any danger had been prevented and left.

Alone with Henry once more, Sam felt the need to apologise for her rash conduct, but her continued mistrust of his too eager advances made saying sorry incredibly difficult.

"Don't worry, I know it was an accident," he said quietly, shuffling across to stand behind her. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck as he leaned in closer, and every part of her brain was screaming at her to hit him. But she had only recently avoided one suspension for malpractice, and she wasn't about to put herself in the firing line again.

Ignoring the hairs on her arms standing up on end, Sam turned to face him with a steely expression and put her hands on both his shoulders, pushing him gently backwards until she had him seated on the bed. "I'll let you sit here until you recover from your fall, and then you can fill in the necessary forms at reception."

Her voice was calm and controlled, just as she knew it would be, but his unfaltering gaze fixated on her mouth sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't anything she could put her finger on, but the longer she was in his presence, the more he got under her skin.

With that parting comment bestowed, Sam made to leave for the final time, knowing some fresh air would soothe her racing heart, but was stopped by his strong hand grabbing her wrist again. His jagged nails dug into her skin as he pulled her closer, his voice dripping with barely concealed venom.

"You pushed me, Samantha. I've just saved you from an investigation – the least you can do is say thank you," he hissed in her ear, and for the first time since she had been on tour, she felt truly at risk.

"Thank you," she said quietly, hoping he would hear some kind of sincerity in the words, even if she didn't mean them.

He drew back his hand, releasing her from his tight grip, and she quickly let out the breath she had been holding. The man was evidently unstable, or at least aggressive, and Sam made a mental note as she retreated from the cubicle to inform security to keep an eye out once he had left the building.

…

Surprisingly, the rest of Sam's shift went smoothly, despite the fifteen minutes she had needed to calm herself down after the incident with Henry. She had changed into a long sleeved t-shirt after realising the bright red, crescent marks on her wrist might look suspicious, but the ED was too busy for anyone to notice.

And now with only ten minutes to go until she was officially off duty, Sam found herself drifting towards the noisy staffroom, intending to grab her coat and bag from her locker and make the long walk to her flat. She was still obsessing over how gullible she had been, convincing herself that it was exhaustion which had made her feel so paranoid around him, when she should have trusted her instincts. Then again, she knew her judgement had been somewhat compromised in recent weeks – emotions had clouded her ability to make decisions on more than one occasion, much to the concern and annoyance of her colleagues.

"Coming for a drink, Sam?"

She turned to see Tom watching her from his seat, looking far friendlier than the previous man who had asked to take her out that evening. However, she knew a hot bath and an early night was what she required, and so politely declined his offer. Tom nodded, having expected her to say no, and made for the door just as Dylan entered, barging past the younger doctor with an exasperated grunt.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going," Sam remarked, pulling on her trench coat and wincing slightly as she twisted her wrist.

Dylan's head snapped up at the comment, taking in her strained expression and wondering whether to ask or not. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head immediately before turning her face from his analytical gaze, knowing all too well how easy he could read her even with her many masks.

"Fine, be that way. I was only trying to help."

"Shut up, Dylan," she retorted, the weight of sleep hanging heavy on her shoulders as she slumped against her locker, too tired to even stand up straight anymore.

The usually oblivious doctor rubbed at his rough, unshaven chin, unsure how his wife would respond to any kind of help from him at the present moment. It was only when she finally rolled her aching neck and pulled her bag over her shoulder that he decided to leave her be. Their marriage had always been a constant battle between them after confusion and crossed wires ended in argument and torment for them both. He didn't want to misread signals again and end up being on the end of her spiteful comments, even if he would never admit such remarks hurt him at all.

But watching as she walked painfully slowly from the room without a goodbye or even a backward glance felt like a slap to the face, and he was almost tempted to go after her. His stubbornness and, if he was honest, fear of rejection were his only excuses for staying in the staffroom, and he waited until the clock finally reached 11 before making his own way home, not wanting to meet her on his way out of the building. He had had quite enough of Sam's brutal coldness to last him a lifetime.

…

The night had brought with it a chill nip to the air, bitingly cold and almost painful as it froze the bare skin of Sam's neck. She exhaled, transfixed on the cloud of breath which unfurled from her open mouth and disappeared beneath the harsh orange lamp in front of her.

Dylan's gesture of kindness and her subsequent rebuff continued to haunt her, and she already deeply regretted speaking to him so harshly, especially when it was one of the few occasions when he had actually shown her any kind of concern. She knew he wasn't good with words or feelings – after all, it was one of the few things which still linked them together – but sometimes she just wished he had said exactly what he wanted to say, or let actions speak for themselves. Perhaps their marriage wouldn't be in tatters now if they had simply allowed their emotions to decide for them. God knows how many times she had just wanted to grab him and kiss him hard, instead of standing mute while he sulked in a corner or stormed from one room to another.

Relief washed over her as she saw her flat only two doors down, and she quickly pulled her keys from her coat pocket and trudged up the concrete steps. Her mind was already growing numb and she felt her eyelids begin to close as the door swung open and she was met with her shadowy hallway. It wasn't home, but then, the army had meant her only real home was in the midst of a warzone – it was going to take her a while to adjust to living in an actual building again.

Switching on the lights, Sam blinked hard against the sudden brightness and stepped inside, pulling off her coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. An icy draft reminded her the outside world had yet to be closed off completely, but just as she placed her hand on the handle, a sudden movement shifted from the gloom of the street. She didn't have time to slam the door before the figure barged inside, a gleaming blade poised in his trembling hand.