Roses Aren't The Only Things That Are Red.
Disclaimer: Yeah well...
:: I found that Natalie wasn't registered as one of the characters on FFnet, so I tagged this story Sam Braddock, because she is a Braddock and this piece does concern Sam as well. The idea came to me when I was brainstorming for a TommyKimberly fic, but I had an idea for this one-shot instead. I've been wandering away from my other fandoms for too long, so this will be the last fic for Flashpoint until I published at least one story for other fandom.
Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy.
Well, that wasn't so bad, was it, Natalie?
"Not at all." She answered herself, tired but satisfied. She shifted several times to make herself comfortable, but her brother's couch had seen better days –more like, years—and it didn't help soothing her aching back. Fortunately, Sam had a spare room- though unfortunately for him, he had to haul out his stationary bike to the living room—or else she would have ended up sleeping on this awful couch. Sam did care for her, being her older brother and tied to her by blood and all that jazz, but he wouldn't be hesitant to send her to sleep on the couch, just like he wouldn't blink twice when he's given the order to shoot down a bad guy.
There's another thing that she had to be grateful of. The guest room was located at the far end of the hallway, providing plenty of feet and thick walls between her room and his. That's good because, well, Sammy and Jules did just get back together. And recalling stories from her mom, her brother was supposed to be in love with this woman so very much so. It didn't take a genius to figure out what's going to happen when two lovers who had been separated too long reunited. The idea of Sam having an active sex life was just nasty.
It's bad enough that she caught them making use of the kitchen counter for something other than cutting vegetables once. Judging from Jules' reaction, she must have thought that she's Sam's girlfriend walking in on them. Girlfriend, as in… his girlfriend. Double euw.
Thankfully, no nightmares plaguing her sleep that night.
Natalie looked around, pink lips still curving up into a smile. Sam would appreciate this. He had to. The living room was now neat and orderly and smelled a bit like her perfume. Sam didn't really have that many things aside from several sports magazines. She did find a Playboy subscription when she was vacuuming, but she threw it away. She figured Jules wouldn't exactly be thrilled to see that. She happened to like Jules' cooking, and even though she rarely ever had dinner at home –it'd be beyond awkward— somehow she'd always find leftovers in the fridge. They're mostly organic food, which she loved and Sam hated, but still mouth-watering. Upset Jules would mean resorting back to pizza and all kind of junk food Sam brought home every night.
"What are you smiling at?" Sam's voice jolted her out of her daydreaming. Her brother was standing in front of his room, frowning at her like he had busted her conspiring against him. After the talk that night, she reckoned they had made progress; a considerable leap. He had begun to treat her like a decent person, a friend, instead of his apartment-crasher with no bright future on the horizon.
"Nothing. I did some cleaning, but I'd leave Jules to stock the fridge. She-"
"You didn't go inside my room, did you?" Sam asked again, looking semi-bewildered. It made her think of what she'd find if she did try to clean his room. What would it be, Sam? A shrine dedicated to Jules? A mirror above his bed? A stack of glow-in-the-dark condoms?
"No," she replied with a grin. "I did the laundry too. Should be ready in a bit."
Sam nodded, one hand on the door handle. "Jules and I are going out tonight, but there's leftover pasta from yesterday."
Nat's eyebrows shot up. She wasn't surprised that she wasn't invited, but more because… "You two are braving the wind and rain and actually going out?" Usually if they're not staying in, they'd spend the nights at Jules' place. It wasn't what she'd call traditional dating, but when you're seeing people you're not supposed to be with, the options were fairly limited. As limited as playing Monopoly with your significant other and his baby sister because it was raining cats and dogs outside.
"You know how to use the microwave, don't you?"
She had to roll her eyes at that. Good for Sam he didn't say anything about her vacuuming technique. He would have a mini heart-attack when he saw his clothes were all clean and ready. She'd leave the ironing to him though, or Jules. Even buttering up her brother had its boundary. "I have plans with my friends in a couple of hours."
"I was joking, Nat." Sam's face broke into a smirk before he closed the door behind him.
She chewed on her Granola bar some more, glaring at the closed door. They must be the second greatest invention in the world after the wonder of internet shopping. Oops, that reminded her that she had borrowed Sam's eBay account once again to get a pair of ghastly black pumps for her job interview. Maybe she should get glasses too. They wouldn't be fooled that she's a Harvard graduate, but she would look smart. Brain and beauty.
Nat glanced at the clock and stood up; time to get the second batch of her laundry. From behind closed door, she could hear Sam's shower running. He was being weirdly comfortable, knowing that she washed his undies. Jules had also left several shirts and socks. She had suspected with relief that Jules was probably hand-washing her underwear. It'd be awkward to find out that Jules was a fan of thongs or bikini panties, that Sam was crazy for them.
For someone who had never operated a washing machine before, she surely had done a great job, Natalie mused as she walked into the laundry room. Five of the ten washing machines were used, but the room itself was empty. The instruction taped to the wall was pretty clear, though she could have done without the middle-age dude with greasy red hair and creepy smile trying to hit on her.
"Nope, nope, nope," she observed the washing machines one by one. "Not mine…nope…" She frowned. Well, this was strange. She could have sworn that her machine was the second one from the left- number four. But judging from the red and magenta shirts tumbling inside, it couldn't be hers. She had done the dark colored clothes this morning. She did hear that there were a bunch of irresponsible nasty people who loved to mess up with other people's laundry. That's just low.
But wait, she recognized that color. It was red, and it was like the color of her-
Holy shit.
Shit.
She was doomed, so very much doomed.
Sam would kick her ass to the street, leaving her penniless and bra-less.
It was her bra. A brand new red bra that she had bought using Sam's because Victoria's Secret was having a clearance sale.
There's no way in hell she'd ever tell him that.
Not that he couldn't check it himself.
But still.
Her body grew cold, teeth digging into her lips to prevent herself from screaming in frustration. She didn't think she had been this nervous when she attended her first professional job interview the other day. Sam would kill her, and Jules would probably help him because her shirts were corrupted as well. Nobody would ever recover her body because both Sam and Jules were trained police officers.
"Perfect, Natalie, perfect. You can't even do this right. What the hell can you do?"
The machine slowed to a stop and the only sounds around her were the buzzing of the other washing machines and her speeding heartbeats.
Everybody made mistakes. Even Sam couldn't be perfect all the time.
It's just clothes, but the bra… The bright red bra. Her mind kept returning to her damn bra. It must have slipped between Sam's boxers and shirts somewhere. It wasn't supposed to be there!
Pink, light pink,
pink, dark pink,
pinkish white, more pink…
Nat looked at the huge pink blotch that highlighted a certain unmentionable part of his boxer in horror. Sam would so not be happy when he saw this particular boxer. Did Jules like pink? The huge amount of pink welcoming her eyes started to make her eyes hurt and she usually adored the color. She could pay him back or buy him new shirts, but the fact that she wasn't independently wealthy at the moment surely made that a tough job.
She sighed. Burning the bra and cleaning up the evidence didn't sound like a bad idea.
Natalie gathered her bag and slipped into her shoes, swiftly wrapping a yellow scarf around her neck. She needed to get away before he found out. She wasn't choosing the easy way out, but she had a date with Darren in half an hour and recreating the World War II with Sam would ruin the plans she'd made since last month.
Okay, so she was choosing the easy way out. Anybody who had a brother like Sam would do the exact same thing. The last thing she needed now was to hear how much of a disappointment she was, and it's just about clothes.
Not just clothes, Nat, pink clothes.
"Sam." She knocked on his half-closed door, trying not to bite her perfectly French- manicured nails. She would apologize later on, maybe… tomorrow? No, Tuesday. Sam needed time to cool off, and she needed time to construct her speech. Make it Wednesday then, or how about Friday? A full week sounded good, eh?
The door opened and the next second, they were staring at each other. She couldn't peel her eyes off of him.
Sam was wearing a pink dress-shirt. A pink dress-shirt. The color was very light, almost white, but it was pink… wasn't it? Or was it just her eyes playing tricks on her after seeing so many pinks? But no, she was positive. Must be Jules' doing. She had realized a short time ago that her brother was sorely whipped by his girlfriend. Was Sam really wearing a pink shirt?
"Done with the laundry?"
"I'm heading out now," she ignored his question and gave him an awkward hug. If only the situation had been different, the stunned expression on his face would have made her laugh. If only. "I'm really sorry, Sammy." She pushed a card into his hand and before he had the chance to react, she fled the crime scene.
Sam looked down. A familiar bright orange card was glaring back at him.
A slightly crumpled Get-out-of-jail-free Monopoly card.
"What was that about?" Jules queried.
"You tell me. Maybe she maxed out my credit cards," his eyes flickered to the clothes basket his sister had deposited on the kitchen counter and he took long strides to the table. "Or broke the washing machine downstairs and told my landlord that I'd pay for-"
He stopped.
What the…
"Sam?"
"Let's just say that Natalie won't be bothering us for a good. long. while."
Whataya think? :)