Just something stupid that will hopefully make you smile. Maybe even laugh a little.
Title: Serenade
Author: Nicky
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Summer 2006, shortly after Sam is shot and the death of Justus.
Summary: Grief can make a man do some strange things.
Author Notes: This is my attempt at humor to lighten the depressing JaSam mood dominating the show these days.
Written June 2006.
Disclaimer: If these characters were mine, we'd be seeing this on the show. But since they're not, I'll just have to borrow them and let them have some fun in fanfic.
Serenade
by Nicky
He walks into the darkened warehouse, the overwhelming scent of blood accosting him as soon as he enters. He's afraid of what he's going to find. But deep down he knows what he's going to find - another innocent victim of his dangerous lifestyle.
He feels along the wall for the light switch, his eyes closing on their own when the room is finally illuminated as if trying to deny the truth for a few moments longer. When he finally faces it, it is not what he thinks.
"Sam," Jason gasps as he lifts his head from its resting spot on the desk. He looks around, confused, and realizes he fell asleep while working again. And like usual, the terrible dreams come. Before, they were the dreams of Sam getting shot in his arms. But now since Justus' death, they've changed. Instead of walking into that warehouse and finding the blood on the floor, he dreams of finding Sam's body beaten and broken, her dead eyes starting into his soul.
"Here, Man. Looks like you need this."
Jason opens his eyes again and finds a cup of coffee under his nose held by Stan.
"What are you doing here?" Jason asks, still stunned by that awful dream and his impromptu nap. He doesn't remember Stan arriving.
"You told me to come by," Stan reminds him. "Said you had some things to go over with me. But when I got here, you were asleep. I went to make some coffee because from the way you were talking, this is going to be a long night."
"Yeah," Jason sighs, wearily, rubbing his hand over his face to try to wipe the sleep from his eyes. "This thing with Justus . . . it was . . . unexpected, to say the least."
"You all right?"
"No," Jason admits. "None of this is all right. Me running the business is not right. Sam getting shot was not right. Justus being murdered. None of it is all right. But what can I do?"
Stan just shrugs, even though he knows Jason isn't really expecting an answer from him. But, the man is at the end of his rope. Stan can see that. He's seen it before with other people he's worked for. And in his experience when they get like this, mistakes are made and things become even worse. Jason's not only his boss, but he's also someone he admires. He considers the man a friend. Which is why he must do something to help.
"You know what? You need to get out of here," Stan insists. "Even if just for a few hours."
Jason starts to say no. That they have too much work to do. But there's always going to be work to do. And Stan is right. Jason is pretty useless in the state that he's in. He's grieving the loss of Justus and Sam and it's taking its toll on him. He would never admit this to anyone, especially his enemies, but he can't even think straight from missing Sam so much. Without Stan to help him, he doesn't know what these past months would have been like. So he owes it to the man to at least hear him out.
"What do you have in mind?" Jason asks curiously.
"Just leave that to me" Stan says, a sneaky grin on his face. He walks to the door and opens it, waiting for Jason to follow.
Jason is hesitant at first but finally decides to just go with the flow. Like Stan said, it's just going to be for a few hours. What can happen in that short amount of time?
--
"Dude, I don't think this is a good idea," Stan says, an uncharacteristic giggle punctuating his sentence. He struggles to stay on his feet as he follows Jason down the street.
"You think too much, Stanford," Jason says as serious as he can be at this time. But he breaks into his own nonsensical laughter at the sound of Stan's full name. He repeats it again just for his own amusement. "Standford. Stanford. Stanford."
"Stop it before I . . . "
"Before you what? Tell your mommy on me? I'm not afraid of you Stanford. But your mom . . . she's pretty scary."
"Tell me about it," Stan agrees, looking up when he realizes they've reached their destination. "There it is. What are you going to do now?"
"First I gotta try to make the world stop spinning," Jason groans, holding onto his head as if that'll stop the dizziness. "Dude, why did you let me have that last shot?"
"You probably shouldn't have had those last six shots. Wait a minute. Did you just call me 'dude'?" Again, laughter overtakes Stan and by the time he catches his breath, it's just in time to stop Jason from throwing a rock the size of his fist towards the window. "You can't do that. You'll break the window and scare her to death. You need a small pebble. Just something that'll get her attention."
"That won't be necessary," an annoyed female voice calls from above.
Jason stares at Stan's mouth in confusion, poking the man's lips with his finger when he notices them not moving.
"How did you talk without even opening your mouth?"
"That wasn't me," Stan tells him, just as confused.
It takes them a few moments, but they finally look up and see Sam standing at her window.
"Hi, guys," she waves, still annoyed at being disturbed, but also amused by the "show" the men are putting on for her.
"Hi, Sam," they say in unison, both of them waving back at her. The motion makes Jason lose his balance and fall into Stan. They both barely manage to stay upright.
But again, it amuses Sam. Because it makes her realize that they're both drunk. Really, really drunk. Three sheets to the wind drunk. And it's the funniest thing she's seen in a long, long time.
"You look really pretty tonight, Sam," Stan says, nudging Jason to try to get him to say something. But his comment only earns an angry glare from the man.
"Dude, that's my girlfriend. You're not supposed to say how hot she is," Jason argues, punching Stan lightly in the arm.
"You just called me dude again," Stan laughs. "And she is hot. She's really, really hot. I may be drunk, but I'm not blind."
"Yeah, you're right. Sam, Baby. You really are hot," Jason sighs wistfully, remembering all the times he used to just look at her. He loved looking at her. He realizes now that he never told her enough how beautiful he thought she was.
"What do you two drunken fools want?" she finally asks, growing weary of this disturbance. "You're going to wake everyone up. I'm not the only one living here at Kelly's, you know."
"I miss you, Sam," Jason whines, the pout almost doing her in. "I don't know how to live without you. I can't live if living is without you. I can't live, I can't give anymore."
Sam's mouth drops open, recognizing the lyrics. And even Stan, as drunk as he is, turns to give Jason an incredulous look.
"I can't li-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ve if living is without you," Jason begins to sing. Very loudly. And very off key.
"Oh, Dear God. Please stop him," Sam says, shaking her head in shock at what she's hearing. But Jason just continues on.
"I can't live . . . "
The horrible sound is finally muffled when Stan covers Jason's mouth with his hand. They both look up when they hear Sam's window slam shut.
"Look at what you did," Jason accuses him. "Why did you stop me? I almost had her back."
"Whatever. You're lucky if she doesn't call the cops on us. Now let's get out of here." Stan tries to pull him away from there, but Jason doesn't move.
"I came here to get her back. I'm not leaving until I do."
"That's what I was afraid of," Sam sighs, giving them both a weary look. She's standing at the door to Kelly's holding it open for the two of them. "Get in here before someone really does call the cops on you."
The men stumble inside and she locks the door again. She turns to look at the two idiots, but can't help but be touched by their actions. Seems that Stan is a better friend to Jason than either of them ever gave him credit for. Sure, it's not usually considered wise to let your friends get drunk and then go serenade a woman who'd just as soon shoot him as kiss him. But the fact that Stan got Jason to loosen up enough to get drunk in the first place and the way he made a fool of himself right along with Jason says a lot about the man.
And Jason. She doesn't even know what to think about him right now. The liquor in his system helped loosen his tongue and let his true feelings show. But what about when he sobers up? Will he just push her away again? Can she risk having her heart broken again? All she knows is that she won't be getting any answers tonight. Not with them in this condition.
"What am I going to do with the two of you?" she sighs, herding them upstairs towards her room.
"I don't know about Stanford here, but I can think of lots of stuff for us to do without him around," Jason says in what Sam assumes to be a seductive voice. But it ends up more a jumbled, slurred mess. He's even drooling a little bit. Surely he can't seriously be trying to get her into bed. She can only laugh at him.
"Calm down, Romeo. Sober up first, then we'll talk," she demands. "You two need to sleep this off. We'll sort everything out tomorrow . . . if you even remember any of this tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Jason pouts again. This time he even stamps his foot like a petulant child. "I don't want to wait until tomorrow. I'm tired of sleeping alone, Sam."
"I wouldn't worry about that," she says, a sly smile coming to her face. "I can guarantee you won't be sleeping alone tonight."
Both Stan and Jason get huge smiles on their faces. Neither of them are sure which one she's talking to, but each man imagines she's making those sweet promises only to him. Little do they know what she actually has in store for them.
--
Jason rolls over and groans, the ache in his head reminding him of his binge the night before. But the warm spot next to him in the bed almost takes the pain away. He looks around the room, Sam's room, and remembers how he ended up here. He got drunk. Then he made a fool of himself. But it landed him right where he wanted to be . . . in Sam's bed. She promised him he wouldn't be sleeping alone. Although he doesn't remember last night, he's glad to see she kept her promise.
"Sam," he calls out into the empty room, wondering where she could be. He looks around and finds a note on the side table, along with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. He shakes a couple into his hand and takes them with the entire glass of water before reading the note.
'Last night was . . . totally unexpected. You really surprised me, Jason. And like I promised, we need to talk. I'll be home, in our bed, waiting for you. We can talk then.
Unless of course, you have a better offer . . . '
"Better offer?" Jason mumbles to himself, confused at her note. He has to wonder why she'd go to the penthouse before he woke up when they could have just talked here.
His answer comes through the door not two seconds later.
"Dude, you snore," Stan says pointedly, drying his face with a hand towel he recognizes as belonging to Sam. "And you hog the covers. I don't know how Sam put up with you all this time."
"Excuse me?" Jason asks, still trying to catch up. He looks at the note, then at the bed, then at Stan before his eyes pop wide open with sudden realization. "You mean we . . . "
"Your girl has a wicked sense of humor," Stan laughs, shaking his head.
"This isn't funny," Jason shrieks.
"Now, it is. But five minutes ago when I first woke up and found you wrapped around me . . . no, not so much."
"I did not . . . "
"Dude, you did. We had full spoonage going on," Stan nods. "You know, I never pegged you for a cuddler."
Jason shakes his head, his face flaming red with embarrassment.
"You mention a word of this to anyone," Jason says, leaving the threat open.
"They won't hear it from me," Stan swears. "But, if you're going to be looking for these extra perks in the future, then I'm going to be needing a raise."
Jason just groans and flops back onto the bed, covering his head with the pillow. He waits until he hears Stan leave, the other man still obviously tickled at the turn of events, before he finally gets up. He could kill Sam for this. But then he remembers what her note said. That's she'll be home waiting for him. In their bed.
He smiles. He knows this is only the beginning of what he'll have to do to win her back. But it's a start. And she seems willing to give them another try. That's all he can ask for.
That and the assurance that he'll never have to spend another night with Stan.
The end.
