Diane returned to Cheers in a bit of a huff, and still a little flustered. Carla and her "date" had dropped her off before going back to fetch Cliff, and between his antics and prolonged exposure to the disturbing rut on wheels that consumed the back seat of the Studebaker, she'd hit the wall. As she descended the steps though, she felt her tension release, as it usually did these days, and she smiled seeing Sam waiting where she left him. He had almost finished cleaning the now empty bar, and was ready to lock up for the night. Surprised by the sound of the door, he looked up and returned her smile. "Well, hello there, Cinderella! How was the ball?"
"Let's just say it was an affair to remember, and leave it at that."
"Oh, was it now? And would Prince Charming agree?" Sam teased, knowing Cliff never stood a chance with this princess.
"Well, it turns out he was a wolf in prince's raiment, so I released him into the wilds of Route 114. I was less than charmed."
Sam doubled over with loud laughter at the thought. What the hell did Cliffie try to pull? Not that he blamed him in the least. Diane on an average day was too much temptation for mere mortals, let alone a poor sap like Cliff. In that dress, forget about it. Still, he gave him credit for having the nerve to try. He understood the impulse all too well.
Diane smiled. She loved his laugh. It was loud and exuberant and from someplace deep within him, and truly was the music of her soul. It gave her goosebumps just thinking of it, and when she was in the same room, it warmed her from head to toe. She especially loved it when she was the one who made him laugh.
Wiping tears of hilarity from the corners of his eyes, Sam leaned against the bar and caught his breath.
"Walk with me," Sam said, turning toward the back room. "I've gotta cover the pool table, but I need details. Lots and lots of details... You mind locking the door while you're over there?"
Diane locked up and then turned to follow him down the dim hallway, enjoying the low rustle of her dress as it swayed with every step. Despite the debacle of the car ride home, she felt wonderful. And beautiful. And right about now, she didn't want the evening to end.
"Well, he was quite sweet at the ball, actually- the perfect gentleman, and obviously quite nervous, but proud. He couldn't stop thanking me, for any and everything, and we danced almost every dance. "
She gave a half-turn to illustrate, and her skirt swung gracefully, revealing a bit more of her slender legs.
"That lucky son of bitch," Sam thought with a pang of regret. Why had he never taken her out dancing? Leave it to Cliff to beat his time.
"And then we got back in the car and were on our way home, when the car 'ran out of gas'," she continued, making quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis.
Sam laughed again.
"The ol' empty tank bit, eh? That smoothie…"
"You haven't heard the half of it!"
"Oh man, this I gotta hear!"
Diane giggled in anticipation of his reaction to the next bit.
"Well, I don't know what possessed him, but after a moment, he began tracing little circles on my arm and singing 'Misty'!"
Sam just about fell to the floor in hysterics, but landed on the leather couch. He held his stomach as his laughter soared to new heights.
Diane was suddenly struck by the blank unholy absurdity of the situation, and dissolved into laughter herself.
"I don't believe it!" he cried.
"Oh, it's true!" She sat down next to him to illustrate, touching his upper arm just as Cliff did.
Startled by the sudden contact, Sam's laughter trailed off. He turned toward her, eyeing her bare shoulder.
"You mean like this?" he asked, running the backs of his fingers over her upper arm.
She felt an electric current run through her, and every nerve in her body snapped to attention at his touch. Her cheeks flushed and she cast her eyes downward, hiding a small smile. Her heart was pounding and her stomach was filled with thousands of little butterflies. Some things never changed.
"Yes… that's it."
He brushed a stray hair back behind her left ear, watching her face carefully for any sign of permission or denial. Her back arched just a little in response and he caught the faintest scent of her perfume. He inhaled deeply, his eyes roving down over her décolletage, now slightly more visible while sitting, as the stiff boning of the taffeta-lined bodice stood a scant millimeter away from her flesh. It was more than enough to set his imagination and pulse racing. She was exquisite.
Her eyes shut slowly and she inclined her ear ever so slightly toward his touch, relishing the feel of his fingers on her bare flesh. She was quietly being swept away, and had no desire to fight it. She had craved this for far too long.
He let his hand slide down over her shoulder, and ran his fingertips across her soft shoulder blades, sending a frisson of pleasure down her spine.
"I can't blame him for trying."
Diane turned and looked at him flirtatiously from under a veil of long lashes.
"Why Sam Malone, what are you saying?"
Between her eyes and the question, Sam was leveled, and couldn't conjure a response.
"I'm saying… hell, I don't know what I'm saying, Diane…"
Needing a bit more from him, she stood and smiled nonchalantly. "Well, that's alright. It's been a big evening. It was fun though, I have to admit it. " Like a little girl, she twirled a bit in her skirt, just to watch it billow and move around her. "I haven't danced in ages." Her necklace caught the light and matched the sparkle in her eyes.
Sam was spellbound. He couldn't look away from her, but suddenly had a thought.
"Wait… wait right there," he told her.
He ran out into the bar and urgently stuffed all the quarters he had into the jukebox then punched E7 repeatedly.
The faint tinkle of the opening notes of "Misty" filled the air as Sam reappeared in the back room. Diane grinned at his choice of music. Just like that, the song took on a whole new meaning. He dimmed the lights and approached her, looking her up and down appreciatively. Damn, she was perfect. Were those violins he was hearing?
"C'mere…" he grinned, extending a hand to her.
"Oh, Sam…" she laughed, taking his hand and letting him pull her near.
Johnny Mathis' voice wafted across the bar, "... I get misty, just holding your hand..."
"Remember all those dance classes you made me go to? It's about time we put them to use."
Sam twirled her around the room a few times, thoroughly enjoying her smile and the feel of her in his arms again. This was where she belonged. He pulled her close, holding her tight against him.
"You look beautiful, Diane. I mean, you're always beautiful, but this… wow. It just about killed me to see you walk out of here on Cliff's arm. I never thought I'd be jealous of Cliff, but..."
His voice was low and soft. Diane let his words wash over her, melting at his sincerity. She turned her head and shifted her heavy-lidded gaze to meet his.
"Sam… you don't have to be jealous of anyone, and certainly not Clifford."
His heart pounded in his chest like a kick drum. He wanted to laugh at the sensations this woman could elicit from him with mere words. She was unbelievable.
"Diane… I…" he began, unable to put together a coherent thought.
"Maybe we should stop talking…" she smiled knowingly.
She leaned toward him and placed a warm, lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth and backed away, her eyes smoldering with an unspoken invitation.