It had been a few weeks since 'the cupboard' happened and though Connie was still refusing to acknowledge her fiercely reignited passion for Sam, to his absolute delight, they kept sharing little 'moments'.
She'd go to pick up something at the same time as him and their hands would accidentally brush or She'd be studying some patient notes at reception, and Sam would deliberately 'find' a reason to walk past her. Then he'd casually trace his hand lightly along her back as he went past. He took great pleasure in the reaction he got from this. It wasn't a big enough reaction for anyone else to notice, but Sam felt Connie shudder at the sudden unexpected contact and he knew that although she had her back to him, she was in no doubt about who had touched her. There were plenty of occasions when Sam caught Connie watching him or vice-versa. A couple of times the two of them inadvertently made eye contact – and on those occasions, he managed to get a smile out of her.
One day, quite out of the blue, Connie put herself on cubicles along with Sam – much too his surprise. It was uncharacteristic of Connie. As a highly skilled consultant and the clinical lead, she liked to do the 'big' jobs in resus.
"So...er, what do I owe this pleasure?" Sam commented.
"As clinical lead, I feel duty-bound to set an example by showing the department that I'm not above treating minors." Connie replied dryly. "Especially the ones in the department who repeatedly complain about such things!" She added eyeing him pointedly. "I don't suppose you know who that would be, Mr Strachan?! Come on – we've got a patient."
"Yes ma'am!" Sam saluted at her.
She shook her head at him – covering him with imaginary frost as she did so. "Don't call me ma'am. It makes me sound like the queen!"
They reached the patient and she checked the notes. "Hello Mrs Benn-"
"Mrs Bennett" the elderly patient interrupted in a sickly-sweet voice.
"Mm-hm, yes – Mrs Bennett. I'm Mrs Beauchamp – this is Mr Strachan. We shall be looking after you today. So what seems to be the-"
It's my ankle, you see." Mrs Bennett interrupted again. "It's terribly painful."
"Right, I see. I'm just going to examine it and then-"
The old lady interrupted a third time. "He's very quiet, isn't he?"
"What-who?"
The patient glanced up at Sam, then back at Connie and leaned towards her. "Your partner."
"Oh." Connie glanced up at his bemused face. "Yes, well, Mr Strachan only speaks when he's spoken too.."
"Ah – a silent prince!" Mrs Bennett remarked. "It's the silent ones you have to watch out for."
"mm-hm." Connie answered vaguely – much to Sam's amusement, as she began to remove the patient's sock.
"Oh, they are awful things, aren't they?"
Connie looked up at the patient and narrowed her eyes slightly. "What are?"
"Socks." the old lady clasped her hands together. "I know they keep your feet warm, but they're awful in the bedroom!"
Connie glanced up at Sam's smirking face. "Are they?"
"I remember the late Mr Bennett had a dreadful habit!" Mrs Bennett carried on. "Every time – the socks came off last! It was terrible!"
"That is terrible" Connie answered stonily.
Mrs Bennett suddenly looked up at Connie. "Have you ever had that problem with a man?"
"No." She answered abruptly, glaring at Sam as he stifled a snigger.
"And coats..." The relentless patient continued.
"What?"
"They're not very productive in the bedroom either."
Sam couldn't help himself this time. "Do you often wear a coat to bed?" He snorted.
Connie smirked at him, but the old woman just ignored his comment. "Coats and socks – they just get in the way."
"Right – your ankle is certainly swollen, Mrs Bennett, so I'll-" Connie began.
"Does he take his socks off last?" Mrs Bennett gestured at Sam – who was trying desperately not to laugh.
"Why don't you ask him?" Connie remarked dryly. "I'm sure he'll answer if you speak to him."
The old woman turned to Sam. "Do you..." she said. "...take your socks off last when you have sex?"
Sam went bright red. "No."
"Good boy! I like you!"
Connie smirked at Sam's look of disgust. "Right, Mrs Bennett, I'm going to send you for an x-ray. I'll be back when we have the results."
"You could've answered that question yourself!" Sam chuckled to Connie, back at the reception desk. "You know perfectly well I don't take my socks of last!"
"Yes, indeed." She responded. "But the temptation of seeing you get all embarrassed by an old lady was just too much to ignore!"
"You're a cruel woman, Mrs Beauchamp!" Sam chuckled again.
Sam was rather disappointed when Connie later refused his offer to accompany her when she went to explain Mrs Bennett's results – stating that she wasn't sure that she could trust him to 'stay in control' of his emotions around that particular patient.
"So, how did it go?" He commented when she got back afterwards.
"It's a good thing you weren't there, Mr Strachan!" She remarked. "I had chapter and verse of Mr and Mrs Bennett first time - all the grisly details!"
"Urgh!" Sam turned a bit green.
"Aren't you lucky I stopped you coming with me!" Connie chuckled.
Sam glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, before moving closer to her. "I love that you care!" He whispered in her ear.
"And who says it's you I care about, Mr Strachan?" Connie retorted with a smirk. She walked off into her office.
Connie heard the door close and spun around to see Sam closing the blinds. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"What do you think I am doing?" Sam responded – echoing his words from in the cupboard and leaving Connie in no doubt of his intentions.
"Seriously, Sam?" She retorted, "In my office?"
"mm-hm, why not?"
"Well, I don't know - because someone might walk in!" She exclaimed.
"Could that be why I locked the door?" He quipped, grinning wickedly. "Anyway, that didn't seem to bother you in the store room."
"You could say I had other things on my mind in the store room!" Connie commented. "Don't you think our colleagues might be a teeny bit suspicious that we're both in my office with the door locked and the blinds closed?" She pointed out.
Sam sandwiched her between him and her desk. "Well, Mrs Beauchamp, this is your office, so you can do whatever the hell you want!" He chuckled, peppering her neck with light kisses.
"I'm not sure that having sex on the desk is what Hanssen had in mind, Sam."
"Who said anything about the desk?" Sam mused – aware that his next comment was going to annoy her. "The sofa is my personal preference, darling!"
"Don't ever call me darling again!" Connie hissed at him.
"Shut up!" He chuckled pulling her lips against his...
There was suddenly a knock on the door. They broke apart on the sofa.
"Don't." Sam mouthed at Connie, fumbling with his shirt buttons.
She smirked at him. "It's probably our daughter!" She got up and moved to the door as Charlie called through it.
"Connie, Grace is here."
Connie opened the door. "Hello sweetie, how was school?"
"Great thanks, Mummy. Do you know where Daddy is? - only no one seems to know!"
In the corner of her eye, Connie saw Sam hurriedly finish doing his buttons back up. "Yes. He's in here, sweetie."
Grace burst through the door and threw herself at Sam. "Hi Daddy!" She giggled.
Connie chuckled and turned back to Charlie.
"Why are the blinds closed?" He asked suspiciously.
"Sam had a migraine." Connie answered without hesitation. "He said he feels better now – but he's been lying down in a dark room."
"I'm sorry to hear that Sam. I'm glad you're feeling better." Charlie commented – poking his head around the door.
They watched him leave. Sam chuckled as Connie sat down on the sofa.
"Nice save!" He whispered in her ear.