Oh well...I'm back. Sort of. As always, I apologize for not having enough time to write&read more often. But I didn't wanna cheat you all for this one. Meanwhile I'm figuring out how to write the next chapters in "Had our paths crossed before" and "A married couple", I'll give you this twist of what happened between "Rescue me" and "Birth, Love, Death and Rice".
It' also a several chaptered story. But I have already written a couple of chapters for this one. So expect to publish new chapters daily (until I run out of them).
I hope you can all forgive me for being such a sucker and try to enjoy this.

Sidenote: IT'S TED DANSONS' BIRTHDAY TODAY! LET'S ALL WISH HIM A HAPPY BIRTHDAY (in our minds...or)

Only a few hours ago, he thought he would end up spending the rest of his days behind bars in some Italian jail just outside Florence. But that was when a local land owner decided to bail him out. Or as Sam found out; purchase him. His English was close to non-existing and therefore Sam tried to use some self-invented sign language while speaking. That seemed to make him more understandable and the land owner attempted the same feat as Sam. That way Sam came a bit closer to why the land owner had decided to purchase him. Apparently his ox had passed away or something. He wasn't completely sure. Strangely enough, Sam reminded him of it. The whole situation was awkward and weird and Sam tried to communicate his way to freedom. The land owner seemed to get it, since he released Sam in the middle of the city Genova, that luckily was provided with an airport.
A part of him felt most like taking the next flight back to Boston and another part of him felt like staying and get his frustrations out before he returned home. Still, he had the urge to be in a bar. Not to drink necessarily. He knew that wouldn't do any good in the long run anyway. But perhaps she would come back to him again if he did start drinking? No. He didn't want to think about her. The thought of her only brought forth all the anger and bitterness. All he wanted was to be among people, who would understand him. People who dealt with problems of their own.
He found himself walking on a sidewalk close to the coast. There were plenty of pubs ahead of him, he could pay a visit. He walked by the first ones, because they didn't seem to have that warm bar atmosphere, he so desired. He neared some of the more noisy pubs that were more appealing to younger generations than his. Nevertheless he gave them a glance as he passed. There were people same age as him- if not older- located in all the bars. So it wasn't like he wouldn't fit in all those places in terms of age. But personally, he would feel uncomfortable to be found in such places. He stumbled upon one pub which apparently offered women dancing on tables.
Sam found himself gazing at one of the table dancers. He could have sworn it was Diane wriggling her butt on one of the middle tables if it hadn't been for his knowledge that Diane would never agree to do such thing. Still, he found himself laughing at the thought of Diane dancing on tables at the north-eastern coast of Italy. Or just…in general. That was possibly why he chose to visit that bar instead of any of the others. He took a seat a few feet away from her table and enjoyed the view of the woman from behind. He didn't know exactly why he found it amusing after all he had just been through.
There was just something hilarious about it. He would never have found it funny if it wasn't because he knew it wasn't her, but just some random drunken woman who happened to look like her from behind. He hadn't even got the chance to see her face.

Was it illegal to have a laugh about something impossible? Probably not. The word he was looking for was 'pathetic'. While he was wasting his time there, watching table dancers and drunken people, she was probably enjoying her honeymoon and newfound marriage with Frasier. The rage inside welled up once again, and he wondered if it was such a good idea to stay in Italy after all, while she was still there… somewhere. He sighed, rose from the chair and was on his way out when he heard a familiar voice from behind.

"More vodka and I'll do a lap dance!"

He turned around in surprise to see Diane looking down at all the horny, entertained Italian men.
He was completely paralyzed and could only watch as men whistled, clapped and offered her their drinks. It wasn't until she prepared to come down from the table he was there to her rescue.

He had seen it coming. She would fall if he didn't hurry. So he did and came just in time to catch a drunken, nearly passed out Diane.

"Diane? Diane, look at me!" he yelled, as he pulled at her.

She mumbled some indistinct words, as he succeeded in getting her to the nearest comfortable chair.

"Someone! Bring her some water!" Sam yelled out in the room as he desperately tried to make eye contact with her.

Some of the men looked confused, not understanding a word of what Sam was saying and others just laughed, finding the situation funny. One of the younger men had understood what Sam had requested, and handed him a glass of water.

"Thank you," Sam nodded grateful.

He tried to pour it in her, but most of it ended up on her tight, red-flowered dress. Sam was so occupied with making some sort of contact with her that he didn't notice the young man still stood beside him, watching silently. Sam felt one's stare upon them and turned and tilted his head to find the guy standing beside.

"You know a place nearby where you can stay overnight?" Sam asked.

"There's an inn about 250 meters north from here," the man said.

Sam had no idea how many feet that was, but he trusted that it was relatively close.
He took Diane up in his arms and prepared to leave for the hotel.

"Do you know if she brought any luggage?"

"I believe the brown suitcase over there is hers," the man said and pointed at it "do you need help carrying it?" he asked.

"You're willing to do that?"

"Of course. Then I can show you the inn."

Sam nodded and the young man exited. Sam followed close behind with Diane half asleep in his arms.