The following morning, Sam woke to an empty house, her footsteps seeming to echo against the hardwood floors despite the fact that they hardly made a sound at all. She had already found the note, brief as it was, scrawled on a scrap of paper and left beside the coffee machine, and a bottle of ibuprofen, stating Chris had already left to get an early start at work, but that she was welcome swing by later, since Buck would probably insist on her joining them for lunch, anyway. A smile had twitched at her lips at that, knowing full well that if she did not make it to the field office by noon on the dot, Buck would be en route to the ranch to collect her himself. But of course almost as soon as the thought had occurred to her, it was tarnished by the thought of how, if she did choose to join them for lunch, she would likely be putting herself face to face with a man she had never thought to see again.
How long could she really hope to keep what had happened between them a secret, around men who were trained to read everything they could about a person without that individual ever having to say a word?
Leaning back against the countertop while she allowed the scent of brewing coffee to seep into her very pores, Sam allowed her head to drift back until she could feel it bumping against the cupboard behind her. Dimly, she recalled the numerous times she had witnessed, first-hand, how Buck's own indiscretions had often backfired when she was younger, and he would come to Chris as though he thought her taciturn older brother could right all of his wrongs better than he could, himself. She remembered watching as Chris simply fixed his best friend with a look that would have stalled a lesser man in their tracks, while she made a mental note to never allow her own transgressions to bite her as Buck had done with his.
As numerous people had likely already said, my, how the tables had turned.
Brought back to the present by the sound of the coffee maker's shrill beep, Sam settled to the task of pouring herself a cup of the steaming liquid, and lifting it to her lips despite knowing that it would likely burn her tongue. In truth, she relished that sensation, as it gave her a momentary distraction from her own predicament. Of course, it did not last long, her shoulders slumping a bit as she continued to sip at the coffee, and eyed the decor of her brother's kitchen, as always, leaning more towards the practical and efficient than anything else. For a moment, she was almost tempted to compare it to their mother's kitchen, littered with cook books, small figurines of chickens, and chipped paint on the cupboards signifying decades of habitual use. But knowing that thoughts of her childhood would only lead to thoughts of all of the things she regretted after becoming an adult, Sam resisted, her feet propelling her out of the kitchen, and towards the sofa instead so that she could reach for the remote that still rested upon the cushions, and flip on the television in hopes of finding a more successful method of distraction therein.
If nothing else, a few hours of losing herself in whatever crime drama happened to be airing would perhaps allow her to temporarily forget the prospect of what awaited her at the field office later that afternoon.
Not what, though. Who…
…
"You good, Ezra?"
"Perfectly fine, Mr. Dunne. Why do you ask?"
"Just seemed a little quiet is all," JD remarked, cocking his head to the side in response to Ezra's apparent distraction, and leaning on the edge of the older man's desk with arms crossed against his chest before going on, "You don't like a slow case, do you?"
"How very astute of you to notice."
"That's-that's a good thing, right? That I noticed?"
"I suppose that would depend on the temperament of the person you were observing," Ezra shrugged, forcing himself to look JD in the eye, despite how every self-serving instinct he possessed all but demanded he find some means of getting rid of his apparent companion, and persevering on his own as he always had, before. In truth, he was still relatively accustomed to the idea of going through life as a member of a team, sharing whatever they deemed fit, and facing it together, rather than as a single entity. Growing up, he had never known that kind of a bond, though with the life his mother led, the reality of that was not all that surprising. She had never been one to encourage forming connections, other than when it would facilitate personal gain.
Perhaps that was why he was suddenly so unsure in light of the potential for discovery regarding his involvement with a woman who just so happened to be his team leader's sister.
Thinking back to the night in question that had apparently started all of this, Ezra could not recall a single moment where the thought to ask for the woman's last name had ever occurred to him. Of course, in light of what they both knew they were going to end up doing, it didn't really seem like a necessary question at all. And although he wished he could have answered the question of whether he would have allowed things to proceed how they had, if he did know exactly who Sam may have been related to, Ezra found he could not, no matter how hard he tried…
In the matter of whether he could have turned away from a woman who so clearly wanted to take him to bed, knowing who she was without any doubt, Ezra simply did not know what answer to give.
Still, no matter how he might wish to have unlimited time to turn the idea over and over in his mind, Ezra knew that he could hardly afford to at the present moment, particularly since he could sense how JD's eyes had narrowed in suspicion over his prolonged silence already, without ever having to look at his face.
"I can assure you, Mr. Dunne, I am fine. And it might be prudent for you to attempt to use this downtime to your advantage and finish up that paperwork that has to be at least three days late, by now."
"Yeah, reckon you're right," JD groaned, dragging a hand across his face, and straightening from the edge of Ezra's desk, casting a forlorn look at the paperwork he could already see on the surface of his own desk not far away, "Guess I don't really like slow cases, either."
"I gathered as much," Ezra remarked, managing a smile for the younger man, and then making a shooing gesture with both hands that had JD laughing, even in spite of his apparent distaste for the job ahead, "Go, before Mr. Larabee decides to blame your lack of progress on me."
After all, there would be enough displeasure from the team leader to come that had absolutely nothing to do with slacking off on the job…
…
"So-Sammie girl comin' to lunch?"
"What do you think, Buck?" Chris retorted, sparing only a moment to glance at the man slouched in the chair opposite his desk, one hand fiddling with the sunglasses hooked on the neckline of his shirt while the other dangled idly over the arm of the chair. For a moment, Chris was tempted to tell him, for the umpteenth time, to get back to his own desk, and try focusing on his own work, for once. But as soon as he considered opening his mouth to do exactly that, he resisted, instead turning his attention to the stack of papers still requiring his signature while Buck took the liberty of keeping the silence between them from becoming too lengthy.
"Seems like she could use a good meal. Girl's gettin' too skinny."
"Yeah."
"She tell you anything about what she was doin' while she was away?"
"Nothin' we didn't already know."
"Think she'd talk to ole Buck about it?"
In lieu of a reply, Chris settled for a simple raised brow for Buck's benefit, despite knowing the gesture was likely to be a futile one at its inception. Part of him wanted to remind Buck that Sam marched to the beat of her own drummer. She always had, and she probably always would. But a still larger part of him was every bit as invested in the reason behind her sudden reappearance after months of radio silence as Buck appeared to be, himself.
The difference, he supposed, was that Buck lacked much in the way of a filter between his curiosity and the subject who had inspired it, and Chris?
He had failed to get to the bottom of Sam's whims every single time he had tried.
It wasn't that she had never been willing to tell him what was on her mind. In fact, when she was still just a girl, he had more often than not been the person she came to first with something that troubled her, or something she simply wanted to get off of her chest. But, over time, those moments had trickled off until they were few and far between, and then ceased altogether. He knew why. In fact, he could pinpoint the very moment when Sam had started to see his reactions to her thoughts as potentially combustible, rather than quietly accepting as they had been, before. In the blink of an eye, she had left their house one day as the same quirky, slightly rash young woman he had always endeavored to protect, and come back a shell of who she used to be.
She had disappeared with Sarah for the remainder of that evening, and even now, Chris had never been able to get from his sister exactly what had happened to leave her so changed.
The following day he and Buck had left for a conference with one of the other teams in L.A, and everything had changed before he could even think to stop it.
Determined to avoid spending too long dwelling on that particular event, however, Chris risked another glance at Buck as the other man shifted with the subsequent squeak of protest the chair gave betraying the movement, and prompting a sheepish grin to his lips in response. Buck knew better than most that pushing his friend when he did not want to be pushed was a sure fire recipe for disaster. But even then, Chris could appreciate the unspoken offer inherent in the other man's presence in his office, whether invited or not, and so he ignored the desire to shoo his old friend away, instead meeting his concerned expression head-on as he placed his pen upon the surface of his desk, and leaned back in his own chair before he spoke.
"What is it, Buck?"
"I just wanna make sure she's okay," Buck began, lifting the hand that was not clutching his sunglasses to run his fingers through the hair on the top of his head, and shifting once again in the chair before going on, "She's good at keepin' everyone at arm's length, you know. Kinda like someone else I know."
"Careful, Buck."
"What? It's the truth! She's just like you, Chris, and I think ya know it."
Frowning at the comparison, and yet not having the necessary wherewithal to deny it with sufficient proof, Chris simply dragged a hand across increasingly exhausted features, his free hand curling reflexively into a fist, and uncurling in almost the same motion in a half-hearted attempt at releasing some of the tension he had been holding onto for only God knew how long. He had never wanted Sam to share his outlook on life. Never wanted her to trend towards cynicism, and keep herself guarded more often than not. But of course, after a certain point, he had been forced to come to terms with the fact that he had very little control over his sister's life, and what it might become.
He loved her without question, but he didn't have a clue how to approach her, sometimes, and he was well-aware that such a thing probably stemmed from his own inability to comprehend his own feelings on a day to day basis.
"Not so sure that's a good thing," Chris finally managed, leaning forward to place both elbows upon the desk, and folding his fingers together to give himself something to focus on apart from the earnest concern in Buck's steady gaze as he replied.
"From where I'm sittin', I think it is. She's a good kid."
"She's hardly a kid anymore, Buck."
"Yeah, but from how you were actin' at the bar last night, seems you're still the same protective big brother she's always had."
Chris had half-opened his mouth to reply. To deny Buck's claim, because Sam was a grown damn woman now, and certainly more than capable of protecting herself. But before he had the chance, a knock sounded on his office door, effectively diverting his own attention, and causing Buck to crane around in his own chair to look at the source of the interruption for himself.
"Am I interrupting a moment? I seem to be interrupting a moment," Sam's voice called, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she stepped into the office, and moved to perch on the arm of Buck's chair, "I can always come back-"
"Nah, your big brother and I were just talkin' about you."
"Oh really?" Sam replied, lifting a brow and turning her attention to Chris while Buck simultaneously wound an arm around her waist, and tugged her closer in the same motion, "Tell me you weren't rehashing the glory days again."
"Hadn't even gotten there yet, Sammie. But don't think I forgot about the bucket of worms you dumped in my shoes."
"Oh my God, that was one time!"
"Once was enough, trust me."
"Really? Because I was thinking about reliving it. For old time's sake," Sam teased, twisting away from Buck's hold and escaping her perch on the arm of his chair, in favor of moving towards the wall to take up a position equidistant from both her brother, and his oldest friend. Eyeing Chris' expression from her current position, Sam noted the slight shake of the head he gave in response to her antics, and completely failed to suppress her own smile in response. Even if only for a moment, she could forget about the reason behind her visit. The risk inherent in spending too much time at the office, when she had not been blind to the presence of the man-Ezra-in the bullpen with some of the other men she recalled meeting the evening before. For just a little while, she was the same little girl she had always been, wedging herself between Chris and Buck despite the difference in age, and in spite of the fact that maybe they hadn't always wanted her around.
It was a relief to let her guard down, even if it was only a little bit, and she was hard-pressed to maintain her previously stoic expression as she simply took in her brother's predictable exasperation as though it were a familiar embrace.
"You got a minute? Some of us actually like to meet deadlines on case reports," Chris inquired, casting a significant look at Buck that had Sam failing to entirely withhold a snort of amusement as she replied.
"Sure thing. Find me when you're ready to leave?"
"Yeah."
Turning back towards the door to Chris' office, Sam spent only a fraction of a moment lingering in the frame, her gaze sweeping over the room as a whole and noting a few different things, all at once. For one, JD was clearly seated at his own desk, bent over a stack of papers with a furrow in his brow. Josiah, and the man she thought she recalled being introduced as Vin were not far away, eyeing a whiteboard with various details scrawled on its surface that Sam did not even bother attempting to read, with another, darker skinned man standing between them. And finally, the very man she was not entirely sure she wanted to confront was lounging at what was so obviously his own desk, apart from the others, and rather obviously watching her, as though trying to discern what she was preparing to do.
It seemed that was all the push she needed to decide she would be better served by biting the metaphorical bullet, and trying to impress upon him the importance of keeping silent about what they had done before Chris and Buck left his office, and anyone else moved from their current post and became capable of noticing their conversation at all.
…..
Never once looking away from Sam as she moved across the room towards where he sat, Ezra regarded her with a skeptically raised brow, and thanked an entity he still wasn't entirely sure he believed in that the rest of his teammates were, at least for the moment, otherwise occupied. He could not honestly tell if her expression was indicative of only a simple chat, or if she was preparing to tell him Chris knew what they had done, and the consequences of that knowledge was a mere hairsbreadth away. And so, he simply regarded her for a moment as she came to a stop beside his desk, her fingertips tapping idly on its surface for a moment before she spoke.
"Hey."
"What an effusive greeting. I'm impressed."
"You should be," Sam quipped, whatever uncertainty she may have felt in the face of her decision to approach Ezra before he could do the same to her fading away as she took in his slight smile over having so easily gotten a rise out of her, and folded her arms across her chest in response, "This isn't-this is not funny, Ezra."
"Oh, on that I agree, Miss Larabee. It is most definitely not funny," Ezra agreed, ignoring the way in which the fire that flashed in Sam's eyes for only a moment was almost begging him to torment her further, his expression turning serious as he shifted for just a moment before going on, "You might have mentioned your family tree."
"Wasn't aware that was the sort of thing you went in for as pillow talk."
"Well apparently, I might surprise you on that score."
"Apparently."
"Does our esteemed mutual acquaintance know-"
"He doesn't know a thing," Sam cut in, aware of the doubt that still seemed to linger in Ezra's expression, and exhaling in exasperation while simultaneously lifting a hand to drag through her hair, "He doesn't. And he won't. At least not from me."
"Am I to assume my livelihood will depend on this secrecy?"
"You could say that."
"Then I suppose I should be thanking you for the information," Ezra surmised, the scoff Sam gave in response to the gratitude indicating exactly how superficial she believed it to be. Unable to explain why the thought troubled him, Ezra settled instead for shifting just a bit until he could observe not only Sam's expression, but the movements of Vin, Josiah, Nathan and JD as they remained on the opposite side of the bullpen, his eyes tracking her own movements as she turned back towards her brother's office as though expecting an appearance at any moment. He understood the apprehension, of course, as he was feeling some of the same, himself. But in spite of that, Ezra seemed utterly incapable of resisting the urge to lean forward just a bit until he was very much in Sam's personal space, the wide-eyed look that flashed across her features in response worth every possible consequence that could have come his way, should Chris choose that very moment to make an appearance as well.
"I don't suppose I could convince you to partake in a rematch-"
Ezra had expected her to recoil. To slap him. Something to tell him that his apparent reliance upon humor was in no way, shape or form appreciated, or appropriate given their current location. But in spite of all of those expectations, the gambler found himself frozen in place as Sam leaned forward until she could reach across him for where his cellphone lingered on top of his desk, a strand of her hair brushing against his forehead while he tried as best he could to ignore the slight hint of cherry blossom in her perfume.
"I think I could be persuaded."
Before he could even attempt to manage a suitable response, Ezra found himself powerless to do anything other than watch as Sam dropped his phone into his lap, and turned to walk back towards the office just as Chris and Buck were appearing to stand from their seats and head towards the bullpen themselves, his eyes drifting down to the still illuminated screen in time to note that a phone number was blinking on the surface, waiting for him to press 'accept.'
In the space where one would ordinarily type out a name of the new contact, Sam had simply left what appeared to be an emoticon.
It was winking.
…
Hellooooo dearies! And welcome to another new chapter in Sam's tale! I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous over how this one played out, specifically as it pertains to how I wrote Chris' dialogue and inner thoughts (or lack thereof? haha!) and Ezra's as well. Those two are the most challenging, at least to me, when it comes to trying to "get in their head" and write out their scenes. So hopefully I haven't messed up and botched anyone too badly!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far! Special thanks go to ChiTown4ever (once again, and infinitely!) for such lovely words of encouragement the last time around (seriously, I think I read your review an embarrassing number of times…)! I truly do appreciate the support, and I hope everyone enjoys this latest installment as well!
Until next time, my darlings…
MOMM