Sam Axe sighed and groaned a little, scratched the permanent five o'clock salt-and-pepper shadow on his face. He put down his binoculars and rubbed his eyebrows, sore from the lookout duty.
Sam and Fionna Glenanne sat in a well known lovers point, eying the docks below. Most people would think an area as such would be the worst for any criminal activity, but for the clever and brave of heart, it is perfect. There won't be any surprises when the police drop by, and they are already anticipating what they are looking for. Just picking off a few clay pigeons of in-car lovers and filling quotas. Michael was away with his mother on a much-deserved cruise and while Sam and Fiona did not appreciate the busywork, it paid well.
"Well Sam, I didn't imagine in your old age that simple surveillance would be so exhausting." Fiona added with her typical sarcastic emphasis.
"Very funny, Fi, for someone pushing their own expiration date. After all, we men only get more dashing with age... like a fine wine," Sam shot back with a wink.
"... or a two buck chuck turned into turpentine...." Fiona muttered under her breath.
Sam puckered the corner of his lip to a small smirk and raised an eyebrow, "I heard that." Sam looked over at the bottle in between them, "Well, speaking of chuck, as long as we're on the never-ending stakeout..."
A few hours passed, Sam and Fiona were now a few sheets to the wind, a little tipsy, a little goofy. Not exactly protocol for their assignment, but being old pros they knew better than to get entirely drunk. At least Fiona's trademark Irish brass had mellowed.
"There you are Fi, laughing a little. I never knew you had it in you." Sam remarked, with a small hiccup and devilish grin.
Fiona indelicately grasped the head of the bottle and poured herself another shot, with a grip that made Sam feel a brief immature flush. She began to pour Sam another, "Well Sam, there is a lot you don't know about me..."
A clink of their glasses and another shot was downed.
"Enough to know you should enjoy yourself more." Sam shot back, lightheartedly, but Fiona's temper, and her nostrils suddenly flared.
"What would you know about that, Sam. How dare you judge me, of all people. I have a lot to be serious about, unlike you, you...." Fiona gritted her teeth and Sam waited for what he knew he was coming, "You...lazy ass widower fucking banjaxed lush."
"Hey!" Sam exclaimed, "That's MISTER lazy ass widower fucking bah-whatever lush, to YOU." Fiona couldn't help in her lubricated state but start a giggle-snort, and Sam briefly felt his heart pause, but pushed on.
"...And you know things aren't that simple."
Something flickered a few meters away, in the shadows it looked as if their targets were about to begin their drug exchange.
"They never are." Fiona took an aggressive swig, "Or are they? You know what Sam, maybe that's the same for me."
More movement, Sam aggressively grabbed the binoculars, his arm getting tangled in the strap, and peered outward, then returned his gaze to Fiona intently.
"Oh really. Fi, if you try to repeat this, I have complete fucking plausible deniability, and if you bugged me, there will be revenge like you have never seen, but you have everything going for you and the only thing that's dragging you down is that hot ass temper of yours and your proclivity for banging your head against a wall. Perhaps that's your fetish?"
Fiona's nostrils flared hotly again and her eyes widened. She leaned forward from her position against the door of the bench-seated Cadillac, she crossed her arms but then began to point.
"Oh-oh-oh, here we go. You of all people are going to get analytical on me, where'd you pick up that vocabulary sailor, the self-help section of Borders? And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, Dr. Freud?" She moved in closer, almost daring him.
Sam began to get more intense, and the crunching of gravel in the distance did not phase him as it usually should. He took a big breath and said what he hadn't been able too all these years, but a dab of liquid courage goes a long way.
"Don't play stupid, Fi. I love Michael as much as you, in a completely heterosexual way, and you two are a great team, but God dammit something about it, him, you, fate, whatever, isn't going to let it happen and you have to let it go. You've made your whole life revolve around him, everything. I'm not going to bullshit you and say he doesn't care for you, but you can't live your life waiting for Mikey to shit or get off the pot, it's just not going to happen."
Fiona moved in closer. Feeling a mixture of rage, surprise, and inquisitiveness at Sam's begrudgingly accurate insight.
"Well what the FUCK, would you have me do Sam? Live a loveless life of margaritas and cheap Hawaiian shirts like you? At least I still have a heart."
More crunching.
"God DAMNIT Fi." Sam hit the bottom of his palm against the leather steering wheel, "I want you to appreciate what you have, the people who are here, do care about you, and only want the best for you. You have Mikey, but you have me too. And you can have anything in this world if you go for it. I want you to have forward momentum in your capable life, I want you have a smile on your face and I want you..."
Fiona started to listen, but didn't have a chance for his words to hit her, as their targets slowly approached the car, checking for activity. She quickly pulled Sam forward by his collar and with hesitation brushed her lips against his, but when her pupils dilated, seeing the flashlights, she remembered her role and pressed them intently against Sam's lips and grizzled face.
Sam was caught off guard. He wasn't a teenager though, and wasn't unfamiliar with having to play out a lover's scenario, even with someone he had a strained relationship with. What did caught him, just a little off guard, was the urgency and natural way he pulled her usually-to-petite-for-him body towards him, his hands along her back, sliding her towards him and dipping her down. He pulled her very close to him, kissing her intently and opened his mouth slightly, in a natural unintended move, wanting to caress her smart ass lips with his tongue and kiss her deeper, but he pulled back and returned kissing her in a safer but as intense manner.
A flicker of a flashlight hit them, and Sam looked behind him to give their targets the perfect deer-in-the-headlights wide-eyed stare, with light lipstick smeared on his face. Fiona, the ever brilliant actress, giving an embarrassed giggle and flush. The stereotypical goons patrolling the area laughed heartily and continued on their way, satisfied that the two steaming up the car were no threat and continued back down the trail to resume business.
Except, as the moon reflected along the bay, Fiona and Sam did not immediately stop for fear of losing their ruse, or stop when the "coast was clear." Sam pulled her ever closer and Fiona found herself instinctively running her hands along the back of his head encouraging him as they unexpectedly, finally, opened their lips further for a needier kiss and let their tongues mingle. Their breath became a little more strained, but as the oxygen hit his brain, Sam felt his life flash before his eyes and reality set back in, gently but urgently moving Fiona back into place, he leaned over and put his elbow on the door and began to rub his temple to ease his running mind.