Miss you Grumpy
Ok, so this is my first casualty fan fiction. I have recently developed a little crush on the lovely Sam Nicholls and love her relationship with Dylan, so I thought I'd give Casualty fiction a try. Hope you all like Oh yeah P.S It don't belong to me, just rented from my imagination!
Sam walked slower than usual to work this morning. Lost in her own thoughts she hadn't realised that she was running late. Maybe coming to Holby hadn't been such a good idea. Seeing Dylan again had been hard, him rejecting her had been harder.
She knew she had hurt him, but he had hurt her too. Seeing your husband rather climb inside a bottle rather than spend time in your company would drive the most forgiving wife to do something stupid, something reckless.
And Dean had been stupid and reckless. Maybe that's what drew her to him in the first place. Dylan had always been so straight laced. Sam couldn't think of a time when he'd been reckless. Well other than marrying her maybe. Had marrying Dylan been a mistake? He'd told her often enough it was. Every time they argued and he drank, he said the vilest things. Granted she was no saint but she had never told him that she wished they'd never married. Even at the lowest moments when she truly thought she hated him, she had never such hurtful things.
No she went out and did something stupid and reckless which hurt him even more. Pulling herself from her thoughts she quickened her pace. Now she was really late!
"Thank you for joining us Doctor Nicholls," Mr Jordan reprimanded.
"Sorry Mr Jordan," she quickly responded making her way to the staff room.
Opening the door she felt like her heart had stopped for a brief second. Standing before her naked from the waist up was her husband. Now granted Dylan would never have the body of Jenson Button but Sam wouldn't have swapped it for the world. His broad shoulders, strong arms and soft skin, Sam had missed them more than she thought. This was pure torture!
He turned around at the sound of her entrance, but she still stood there dumbstruck, eyes and mouth wide open, still perving away.
Embarrassed he quickly grabbed his shirt and put it on. "Relax," Sam said trying to sound casual " It ain't like I haven't seen it all before," A cheeky smile crept upon her lips as she thought about Dylan naked.
"Well yes," Dylan stammered "The less said the better," He sounded nervous as he tried to quickly move past her. She caught his hand making him turn back to face her.
"Dylan," she said softly "We can't carry on like this," Her voice was barely above a whisper. She sounded tired, defeated even.
"Like what?" he asked. He knew what she meant but it was easier to act oblivious.
"Awkward," she answered seriously "Or in your case just plain fidgety,"
He starred down at his feet, not answering. Sam sighed he'd always been so vocal after a bender or when he'd had a bottle. But now he looked like a small child waiting to be yelled at.
Sam was sick of the yelling. Opening her bag she pulled out a small stack of letters and handed them to him. "I've debated whether to give you these," she began, "I wrote them in Afghanistan, I was going to send them to you but I never plucked up the courage. Please read them,"
Dylan eyed the small stack curiously, "Ok," he agreed "I'll read them,"
Sam gave him a quick half smile and headed towards her locker. "Thank you,"
Dylan waited until she had headed out to cubical before sitting down on the sofa and began to read the first letter.
Dear Grumpy…..