"Sam opened his door and entered his home with the weight of the world on his shoulders. As per usual Katya was at the kitchen table reading her latest gossip fix. "How was work?" she asked coldly as he collapsed in the chair across from her. "Bad very bad" he mumbled. He knew she didn't really care, the only time she would do something remotely selfless was because during one of his explosions he demanded her to do that particular act. "I hurt someone today." He continued as he rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes "Maybe like I hurt you." The usually despondent Katya perked up. Slowly standing up he walked over to the window and watched the sun set on the horizon like butter on hot toast. After a moment Sam turned to his wife as she stared up at him in anticipation. "I don't know why Im always so angry. I know you're not her. I never meant to ask you to be her. I want to make this work" He said carefully. Katya let out a sigh "This is…tiring" the blonde woman said softly. Despite her discomfort Sam had to fight a smile, it was the most emotionally honest she had been with him in a while. "One more session." Sam said boldly. Katya gave him an exasperated look. "I know. I know she's not exactly the person who you want to talk to but she's the only person I know who can speak your language. I want you to be able to say your feelings. Just one last time and then never again." The blonde stared down in thought "Fine. One last time." Sam let out a sigh of relief "Thank you Katya". She said nothing as she turned the page to signal the conversation was over. Usually the action would dishearten him but he was content.
The next morning the officer walked the prison yard in a tight bundle of nerves. It seemed as though every morning he had awoken to the aftermath of a nuclear bomb and the only thing to do was rebuild what was once there. Sam lingered by the spanish women playing a heated game of dominos as he gathered the strength to talk to Red. He knew exactly where she would be especially on a warm sunny day. In the past year, with the absence of her kitchen the russian woman had taken up gardening with the same full bodied passion she put into any of her work. He loved the way she would glow down the hallways after a day in the garden with sweat and soot smudged upon her face. Slowly the officer approached the the women planting the newest additions for the outside garden as the summer season had set in. Red sat in the dirt as she toiled over her row of plants. "Nothing like being on your hands and knees eh?" Sam exclaimed only to quickly realize his innuendo "I mean…in the soil…its good to work in dirt." The red head let out a sigh as she continued her work. Realizing she wasn't going to turn around he continued "Listen about yesterday…I". "It's fine." She said quickly. "It got personal and I didn't want it to get awkward." He struggled to form his words. Finally she stopped her work and looked up at him "Well it wasn't awkward until you said it was." He let out a small sigh of relief when he noticed her usual teasing twinkle in her eye. "How is it going?" She asked as she patted the dirt around a newly planted shrub. "Bad very bad actually" He said remembering the way Katya looked at him the night before "I think the language barrier is still an issue." After slumping her shoulders a bit she slowly stood and leaned on the wired fence to look at him face to face. "Healy." she said in a hushed tone as the other women gardening glanced over to them "I can't be your marraige counselor." "Translator" he corrected "Just one hour after dinner." Red let out a huff "I have plans". With a small triumphant smile "I cleared your schedule" he retorted. "Well in that case…" she said with a defeated shrug. "Thanks Red". "You didn't give me a choice." She retorted. "Its still appreciated" he said softly. Red gave an exaggerated eye roll as he smiled knowing she was in. He turned and walked away with a heart full of hope for whats to come.
"The social worker sat at his desk as he looked across to his wife, Red stood in the corner making clear her distaste for the situation. It started out as always, he would offer some kindness and she would retort with more accusations. The accusations maybe true, he's not a psychologist, he's an aging man, his sense of comedy comes out awkward but the way she explains it made him feel so small. "I know I have not been perfect but we can work through this." he said cooly. "No." Katya retorted "It is to late. I deserve better man than you." Point for Katya. He leaned back knowing it was going nowhere, he was about to just call the session off when suddenly the siren began to speak. "Oh give me a fucking break." Red hissed "Deserved? You're a mail order bride!" Katya's face crunched in disgust "I am not a mail order bride!" Red growled only to decend into a long rant in russian, Sam placed his hand to his head tired of being the odd man out until he perked to hear her speak in english once more. "He takes care of your mother doesn't he?" The redhead continued pointing towards him "He's handsome! He's good! And he's fucking trying! Which is a lot more I can say for you!" The room fell quiet as the three glanced at eachother in awe. Red returned to her corner as she calmed from her surprising outburst. On the ride home both were silent until he heard the blonde mumble to herself "Not a mail order bride."
The next few days Sam had a spring in his step as he walked to the tune "he's good, he's handsome, he's trying". It was the sad truth that what Red had said during her outburst was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in years. Whenever he would see the redhead about the penitentiary he would start beaming and offer a big hello. True to her fashion she would give a curt nod with a bemused smirk. At one point he heard one of his stone faced coworkers, Wanda Bell whisper "What the hell is he so happy about? He works in a prison." Sadly his days of bliss couldn't shine as brightly when news spread like wildfire that Red's prized child Nicky was ordered to be sent to maximum security after being caught with possession of heroine. He knew that would be crushing for the maternal figure that not only was her child being taken away but that there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Understanding how she grieved he left her alone to process with her girls but when the worst was over he would find her as always in the garden.
Two days later, he again patrolled the prison yard to see the the russian woman struggling with a large wheel barrow. Unable to ignore her he jogged over "let me get it!" he called out. She turned to him somewhat surprised when he grabbed a hold of the handles before she could bother to argue. "Oh you don't have to do that" she said softly. "You didn't have to say all those nice things to Katya." he recalled as a large smile crept across his face. "Your russian must be terrible" she retorted. "You called me a good man" he said as he carefully pushed the wheelbarrow into its place and set it down. "I only said what I believed" she said with a shrug. His heart fluttered. He was about to tease her when he noticed her sullen expression. "Are you alright?" he asked examining her carefully "You're eyes are glassy." She looked at him with the same vulnerability as she did the night she wept against his chest in the kitchen. "I feel as though I had lost a child" she responded her voice cracking on the final word. Carefully he placed a hand on her shoulder, surprised she glanced to his touch. "I'm sorry Galina" he murmured whole heartedly. Even after all those years her name danced so sweetly on his tongue. "I thought…I could save her" she breathed. He felt the urge to pull her close and protect her from the darkness that always waits around the corner to attack. "When someone jumps into shark infested waters….you can't go after them." he said as he watched her blink away the tears threatening to fall. Unsure of his own emotions his eyes slowly cast down, he turned and walked away. Though he didn't look back it felt as though those glittering sapphires were watching him the same way they did when she returned from the hospital.
Ever since the outburst in his office his need to fix a sham of a marriage dissipated entirely and his love for Red had only intensified. She only had two more years left in her sentence. Only two more years until legally if they were together it would be nobodies business but theirs. He would let his mind drift when he thought of ways to show her he cared when she was no longer trapped in the confines of Litchfield.
If it was up to him he would woo her in every ghastly, sappy, hallmark way possible. He would write poems about her beauty and shower her with tokens of his love. He would take her home to care for her and lead her to where a giant bubble bath for two awaited, with a pair of crystal glasses of champagne a wait to be tasted. He would treat her with a picnic beneath the stars and tell her stories while cuddling near a warm fire. He would buy her an elegant dress and take her dancing where they would get lost in sultry movement of the music until the wee hours of the morning. He would fill a room with roses just to see her smile. When he would see her in the hallways so broken up over Nicky, he longed for that room of roses. But he knew Red and Red was not a woman who had patience for grand gestures. She was practical woman.
One afternoon while mingling about the supermarket during lunch break Sam found himself standing in the floral department. He smiled at the thought of the former chef having a feild day exploring the variety of arrangements. Glancing over to the roses he pondered if he could sneak into the dormitory and fill her bed with roses. But he knew that would annoy her more than woo. She never liked to be handed something it felt suspicious to the former mafia member, she felt safer earning her luxuries. Suddenly a thought popped into his head. He won't give her a room of roses he'll give her a garden of roses. A garden of roses that she can grow.
Later that day, he finally caught her walking down the hallway. "Hey!" he called out with a big smile. She turned and nodded to him but continued walking. Sensing his presence after a moment she turned back around "Do you need something?" she asked politely. His nerves began to double up when he caught up to her and caught a good whiff of the soap she used that morning. "I uh…well I'm sorry to bother you but I thought this might brighten up your day" he chirped as he presented a bag of flower seeds. She slowed down to a halt as she took the bag and put on her glasses to examine them. "Roses?" she asked as she glanced over to him. Feeling her scrutiny he scrambled for his words. "Well..I…ugh…is that what it is? I don't really have a green thumb it…uh" he stammered. "It says rose seeds right there" she said as she pointed to the black letters on the packet. "Well I uh…I was in a rush after lunch" he justified. Heat burned at the back of his neck as she watched him closely. After what felt like an eternity her face brightened with a gentle smile, "They will be a beautiful addition to the garden. Thank you." The officer relaxed as he gazed upon her "Your welcome" he said softly. He continued to smile as she walked away carrying her room of roses in a tiny little packet.
Ever since his floral token of love Red began to warm up to him. They shared small moments that spoke volumes from her side of the fence. Whenever he would speak instead of a sassy remark she would respond with an earnest question or even a sweet compliment. At one point they were talking in the hallway about the weather when she noticed one of his buttons came undone, without a moments hesitation she reached over and refastened his shirt causing his heart to race as her fingers brushed against his skin. He stammered and turned into butter when she gave a dangerously suggestive smile watching him fluster.
But it all came to a climax when he offered her tea somewhat as a joke ever since the newest and perkiest councilor kept offering to the drink to the russian woman in hopes to steal her away. They sat side by side on his tiny couch as they stared forward. They were in the middle of a tender conversation about happiness when Red admitted she wanted more. "….No." She groaned "I need something more in my life. No matter how much gardening and weeding I do my mind drifts." Sam nodded afraid to say to much, afraid her walls will come crashing back up. "I have a need, a drive…" she turns to him "a hunger". She let out a breath as he lost his. He feels his face get hot as she bores into his soul. "A hunger?" He squeaked. "Yes" she breathed "I need the heat you know. The flush in my face that only comes from real…" "Passion!" He interrupts, there she was his fantasy come true. Hours of make believe sitting before him. The officer sets down his glass and turned to face her fully, "oh yeah, I understand" he said with what little breathe he had. Heated fantasies flashed before him as he watched her eyebrows raise and her pupils dilate. He was about to take her glass when she started to speak again. "Give me something to be consumed with Healy" she pleaded. He took the liberty to scan her full body as she continued "Gift me with lesions, burns and an aching back. But it's work real work!" The officer thought for a moment as he slowly realized he had been tricked "Are you talking about the kitchen?" he asked slowly. She leaned back a little still watching. He hoped she was about to respond with shock and admit a weird kink but he knew it wasn't the case. "Its a proven fact Alzhiemers comes faster in retirement. I can't be like Jenny running around with an underwear on my head. I need stimulation!" She exclaimed the sultry tone all but gone. Sam turned back to staring forward as he felt his heart sink to his stomach "Mendoza's doing fine in the kitchen we don't have a reason to replace her." He mumbled "You'll have to find your stimu….your purpose somewhere else." He scratched his head awkwardly feeling her watch him, he always wanted her so close but in that moment he just needed her out of that office. "Maybe with this new regime things will change." She continued to plead "Please comrade to comrade." He barely looked at her until she placed her hand on his arm almost the same way he had touched her arm in the garden. A flash of anger burst through him, in most cases he would lose his top but even scorned by the siren he always controlled himself the best he could for her. They debated for another minute or so. It hurt to say no to her when he knew how much the kitchen meant. But it hurt a little more when she whispered "Don't you respect me?" Her expression of longing became so evident as a false mask for him to do her bidding. "Jesus Red" he said coldly "I thought you were better than that." She looked down for a minute as her shame became evident. She stood, placed her glass down and slipped out quietly. He didn't watch her leave but a single tear trickled down when he caught a whiff of the soap she used that morning.
The next day he was sure to avoid the prison yard and when he noticed her giving him a small wave from the leisure room he just kept walking. He was angry but more hurt than anything. He really thought there was a chance to love her the way he always felt she deserved.
After a long day of avoiding Red he was packing up when he looked up to see her standing in his doorway. He walked passed her to pick up his portfolio on the couch and walked to his desk without a word. "So you're ignoring me now? My son used to do that when he was five." she taunted. "You played me Red" he retorted. "I had to get my kitchen what other choice did I have?" She pleaded. "You could have asked nicely." He huffed. To his surprise a bemused smirk appeared on her painted lips. "Awww and that would have worked?" She chuckled. "Possibly" he responded "We're people". Suddenly her demeanor simmered to a cold stare. "No one here is people" she hissed as she slowly walked up to him. "You think this is a normal relationship? Human to human? You forget when you leave here tonight you lock me up behind you." He hated when she reminded him of their reality. He hated leaving her in Litchfield let alone at all. "Hey I don't make the rules" he responded. Tears twinkled in her eyes cooling and fueling the fire dancing in her soul. "You take a woman's power, her work, her family, her currency you leave her with one coin" She holds up a finger as she leans in closer "The one she was born with. Sure its tawdry and demeaning but she will spend it." she paused to take a breath as she brushes away a strand of hair on his forehead and places her hand on his cheek "but you're right your feelings count too." He watched her as she left just as quietly as before. His eyes fell onto the picture of his wife perched on his desk as he pondered what these two women had gone through but he never thought to ask. After some thought he got her a lower ranking job in the kitchen and as if the heavens were looking upon the russian muse Mednoza quit as head chef leaving her back on the throne. Over time they eased back into their happy way of coexisting. Sometimes she would stop by and they would have a laugh over the new religion forming around her silent friend Norma or drama around the bored kitchen staff who were left to opening bags of new prison regulated of slop. He watched her fall apart at the nightmare of the new food leaving her to announce every five minutes she had no part of it. But soon she woke up and "found her purpose", she began to use the garden to brighten up the slop. He remembers her practically skipping down the hallway to announce to him she had just concocted the worlds best Ratatuille out of merely nothing. She opened up a lottery where each week a certain chosen group of women were treated to a feast by Red. He loved to watch her thrive. As much as it hurt him to be used emotionally by her he realized that she was in a dark place. She had lost almost everything she had built in twenty years and the fact that never had she pulled the wool over his eyes before. He knew he was puddy in her hands and he would do anything just to see her smile.
After many months of heartache for Red and her girls a happy occasion occurred when Lorna Morrello the hopeless romantic was getting married. The both of them had been asked to be a witnesses at the modest nuptuals. He will never forget standing in the room with the prisons chaplain, a handful of guards and the groom to be. The room fell quite as the bride entered, adorned with a veil made out of toilet paper and the sweetest smile. The russian chef escorted the bride to her future husband. As the two exchanged their vows everyone wept openly in the joyous vision to see the girl who fought so hard for love to finally get her happy beginning. When all was said and done the chaplain exclaimed "Usually I would have the couple light the unity candle but due to federal penitentiary open flame laws and since our bride is wearing paper I can't allow that." The room laughed and she continued "So I will urge you to look into eachothers eyes…" Sam glanced up to see a crying Red, slowly she looked up and their eyes locked "…and to light the fire within." The soviet siren gazed at him and he swore for a moment they both shuttered. As if by command the fire that had danced behind her eyes for so many years leapt into his being and his world was engulfed in flames of yellow, white and of course red. "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." the chaplain exclaimed. Sam knew he should be a applauding the happy couple but he couldn't move a muscle. The flickering embers of her soul had rendered him motionless. Finally she tore her stare away from him towards Lorna and said "What a beautiful couple! Beautiful!" as she clapped loudly. The room erupted in celebration as Sam regained his consciousness. After the ceremony they left the room to give the couple some time alone. She talked about her pessimistic views about love as she played with the paper flowers wrapped around her wrist. He didn't buy it for a second, not after their moment of fire they just experienced. They had reached his office when he had stopped to gaze at her. She blushed. "So you don't think there is… someone out there….meant to be there for there for you?" His words slugged out like mud in his uneloquent manner when under her spell. She looks away deep in thought. "Of course I do." she said dreamily "Everybody has a soulmate. But usually they are across the bars, the wall or the world." she looks up at him "thats just the way the world works." She was his russian rose who had weathered an ice storm in her lifetime. "You're not going to be in prison forever." he breathed "You got a future to think about." The sapphires melted into a deep ocean blue. "Our ships passed to late in the night to change course, Sam." she whispered. His face fell. She took his hand and placed her flowers into his as she looked into his eyes before walking away. He couldn't believe whats done is done. Not after all they had been through.
Later that night, after hours of paperwork Sam leaned back in his office chair and glanced at his watch. The face read five till midnight. The officer let out a loud sigh before removing his glasses to rub his eyes. He knew he needed to get to bed but ever since Katya moved out coming home wasn't to relaxing. Sure the tension no longer hung to the air like a dense fog but now the air morphed into a crisp, clear loneliness. Glancing over to the paper flowers sitting on the side of his desk for the hundredth time he brushed a couple of the pedals with his finger tips. Reluctantly he packed up his belongings, threw on a coat and shut off the light. Sam listened to the echoes of his footsteps as he walked down the deserted hallway when suddenly he stopped, something made his ears perk. It sounded somewhat like a symphony until it dyed out and he heard voices. Slowly and quietly the officer changed hallways following the sound. When reaching the end of the hallway the social worker almost let out a laugh to realize the sound came from the leisure room, someone must of left the television on. As he approached the room he looked through the windows to see he was not alone. Galina Reznikov sat at the table nearest the television with an opened bottle of whiskey and a box of chocolate wafers. She had her elbows on the table with her chin resting in her hands, she looked up at the screen with a small smile blessing her face like a child watching cartoons on a saturday morning.
Quietly Sam sauntered up to the door way and watched her. " Caught out of bounds past lights out, with contraband and under the influence. Thats enough shots to get you in solitary Red." The officer teased softly. The red head jumped then looked over to her unexpected visitor. She watched him for a moment as her smile reappeared. "The Shu for me and a pile of paperwork for you? I guess we both need a drink then." The siren replied as she slid the bottle into his eye line "Care to join?" The officer shuffled over to her before taking a seat. The two smiled at each other before he took a swig, comfortable with the silence they watched the screen. "I wouldn't peg you as a Trekkie" Sam murmured. "A what?" Red replied with a chuckle. "Star Trek. The program we are watching." He gestured towards the screen. "Mmmm yes my boys would watch it after school. They loved it before they grew into young men and were to cool for such a thing. I didn't mind since it helped with their english. I think we all learned how to command directions to the Gamma Quadrant before we could properly ask directions to the bus stop. " They both shared a small chuckle. "How is it back in the kitchen?" Sam asked as he helped himself to a wafer. Her smile disappeared as she looked over to him. "Im sorry I tried to take advantage of you for the kitchen." She gently patted his arm as they stared into one an others eyes "You really are a good man and you would never take advantage of me like that, so Im sorry." The officer stared at her for a moment before placing his hand over hers "I understand. Really." Silence eased around them like a warm blanket as they examined each others faces illuminated only by the flickering pictures on the screen. Slowly their faces eased closer millimeter by millimeter. He stared at her thin lips and was lost in the hints of whiskey and chocolate infused with her breathe. "Red" he asked as they struggled with the last thread of restraint. "Mmm" she responded softly. "What the hell is a Gamma Quadrant?" She took in a deep breathe as her chest grazed against his. "I have no clue." And there it was. Their lips pressed against one another. Neither of them moved unsure of what to do but soon she placed a hand on his chest and his fingertips began to trace her jawline. In a slow steady pace their mouths began a dance of seduction, longing and exploration. As his hand traveled up to her wild locks and as she slowly surrendered into his embrace they reignited the fire within.