She had only lasted a couple of months in Ireland. It was her home, it was the place she had grown up in and shared memories with her mother, father and sister. But it didn't feel like hers anymore. She felt like an outsider; the place had moved on but she was stuck in the past, clinging on to visions that had once brought her happiness. And she missed the job, she really missed the job. It hadn't dawned on her until that second month away from it all, just how much forensic pathology was her calling; forensic pathology was her home.
Sam moved back to London almost immediately; she had tried to reconcile a relationship with her son but it was no use, the boy, or rather man now, didn't want anything to do with her. And she couldn't blame him, she had abandoned him after all.
She considered crawling back to the Lyell and asking for her old job back but she had read the papers and the articles and she had seen how well Leo was doing at running the place; how many positive changes he had made and she didn't want to disturb that. And perhaps it was time for her to look into something that was less demanding but still gave her the satisfaction.
She taught for a while; another place that had felt like home to her. She enjoyed looking at the faces as everything she had spoken about sunk into their minds, their hands as they scribbled down key words. She'd give anything to swap seats; as much as she loved the ability to teach, nothing came close to that feeling of when you learn something new and you just get it. She missed it, but it did provide her with the opportunity to pass on her knowledge to other people and she would be forever grateful for that.
Then the job opportunity popped up, it was a rundown lab that was in desperate need of saving. They needed someone to head it, someone with experience; they had approached her first and she had nearly turned it down, enjoying the teaching too much. But then she missed it, the smell of formalin, the squeak of the rubber gloves, the feeling of the scalpel between her fingers.
It was a lot of work, a lot of responsibility on her shoulders but she had managed to do it; it was never quite as busy as the Lyell had once been but it was enough and she had flourished in the role. Even managing to carry on with the lectures on the side.
That was what had brought her there, in a grand hall; much larger than the small lecture halls she was used to. She was speaking at conference, delving into the world of forensics and facial reconstruction. She had chuckled when it was first offered to her; her inaugural lecture had been about the same thing all those years ago. It was almost as if history was repeating itself. The difference being, this time, that the technology for facial reconstruction had advanced greatly since she last dipped her toe in it. But Sam had been eager to learn about it all.
Her eyes glanced over the various faces staring back at her as she spoke, she recognised a few from over the years; they looked older since the last time she had seen them but they were still familiar.
They applauded as she finished and before she knew it, a champagne flute was being pushed into her hands as she wandered through the crowds of people; all of whom were talking amongst themselves about varying levels of forensics and pathology. She almost turned to join in on a conversation that had piqued her interest when she was being tapped on the shoulder.
"Professor Ryan?" The young woman with long, blonde hair spoke; her smile had reached her eyes as she stared back at Sam. Her eyebrows furrowed, she had sworn she had seen her face before but she couldn't form the name on her tongue. "Nikki Alexander." Ah.
"You're Nikki?" She distinctly remembered the day she had turned up on Leo's doorstep, it wasn't long after she had heard the news about Theresa and Cassie and she wanted to pass on her love and she knew that that conversation required more than just a phone call. Leo had told Sam all about Nikki and all about Harry fawning over her. He had overly expressed how much he wanted to bang their heads together but Sam had reminded them to leave them to it; they would come to their senses one day if they liked each other that much. She had seen a photo of the three of them on his mantlepiece; she didn't raise attention to it but she had felt the warmth filling her as she looked at the smiles on all their faces. She had thought Nikki pretty, someone who was exactly Harry's type so it was no surprise that he had fallen head over heels for her.
And now here she was, in the flesh, beaming; a blush tainting her cheeks and her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Yes," she nodded. "Harry was supposed to have joined me but he had other arrangements, apparently." Sam avoided the temptation to roll her eyes at that, typical Harry, never changes. And she didn't miss the jealous tone in Nikki's voice either. "But he has told me all about you and it's so nice to finally put a face to the name."
"It's lovely to meet you too," Sam smiled politely. "Do you have a particular interest in facial reconstruction?"
Nikki's eyes widened, "I specialised in it over in Johannesburg, but I've read all your papers about the development of it and I did manage to get hold of some tapes of your lectures."
The smile spread further across Sam's face as the young woman spoke animatedly about facial reconstruction, detailing her experiences and how she's used it to her advantage; even going on to tell her that it was how she had even managed to get a job at the Lyell in the first place. Sam could listen to the woman for hours; there was nothing quite like when a person had the opportunity to talk about the things they love, even more so when it was something Sam herself had been interested in just as much.
Sam listened intently as the woman spoke, but her smile dropped as something caught her eye. She hadn't meant to be distracted but her stomach felt as though it had fallen to the floor as she took in his features; features that she hadn't seen for years. She tried her hardest to turn her attentions back to Nikki but he had seen her and he had known that she had seen him. And she spotted him heading straight in her direction.
Her face must've given it all away as Nikki stopped talking, her head turning to look over her shoulder; a knowing grin spreading over her face as she put two and two together with the man walking towards them.
"Nikki sorry-"
"No, it's fine," she shook her head, holding her hand up.
Sam dug into her pocket, pulling out a small card, "That's my number," she passed it over to Nikki. "Give me a call the next time you're free, we can arrange a coffee maybe. I'd love to talk to you more about this, really." Sam squeezed the woman's arm gently before she dropped her hand.
Nikki examined the card closely before glancing back at Sam, "I'd love to," her head flicked to the man as he stopped still next to her. "Speak to you later, and again, it was lovely to finally meet you."
"And you," Sam nodded. She waited until Nikki was out of earshot before she she turned her attentions back to the man. "Michael."
"Professor Ryan," he beamed. She could see the blush creeping up his neck, she still had the same effect on him as he did her; she couldn't help but feel satisfied at knowing that. "It's, uh, been a while hasn't it?"
"Too long," it came out of her mouth she even had time to think about it and now it was her turn to go red. Michael chuckled at her, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back as someone tried to manoeuvre past the pair. She ignored the burning sensation that lingered as his hand drifted back to his side.
The memories flooded her mind, the kisses they had shared, the feeling of his fingers threaded through her hair, the way her heart raced whenever he walked into a room. There had never been anyone quite like Michael, never anyone who had made her feel the way she felt around him. She had let him slip away before, not for her sake but for his wife's sake and his son's. Sam wasn't a home wrecker, no matter how much she had loved him. But she was quick to spot the lack of a gold ring on his left hand and there was a glimmer of hope that settled in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, it was their time.
She went to speak, to ask a million different questions but she was quickly interrupted by her name being called. A young boy headed in her direction, he was tall, dark haired and she was sure that she could hear the Irish twang in his voice; he too had a million different questions. She listened and provided him with the answers he was burning to know but she could feel Michael's eyes on her. She had thought he'd make himself scarce but he stayed next to her, and she hated herself for even thinking that they remotely looked like a couple; a supportive husband stood next to his wife.
The boy eventually left, a spring in his step and no doubt buzzing from all the information he had just received. Sam's lips tugged, she always loved that moment; when a conversation you've shared leaves you feeling elated, there was nothing quite like it.
Michael leaned in closer to her, the noise of the hall growing louder, "Do you fancy sneaking to a cafe around the corner? Might be a bit quieter and give us a chance to talk?"
Sam had nodded and led the way without a second thought. It had been years and they had so much to catch up on. And that's what they did, they must have spoken for hours and they had made their way through many cups of coffees and various cakes. It was like old times, when they would sneak off during the case to have lunch together. It made her realise just how much she had missed him and just how much she hated herself for not making things right all those years ago. She only slept with that man, Caldwell, because she was angry at Michael and she was angry at not being able to show what she really wanted.
She often wondered if he had been the only man she really loved and as she looked at him from across the table, she realised that it was true. There had been many people to flit in and out of her life but none of them lingered in her mind quite like Michael. She found out that day that he had indeed divorced from Helen; he didn't divulge but from what she could gather, it wasn't long after Sam had lost contact with him. She didn't entertain the idea that it had been her influence but it ticked over in the back of her mind.
"How come you're here today?" She had asked him. It wasn't exactly the type of conference a police officer would attend, rather catering for the more forensically minded people.
He had laughed, his eyes casting down, "Your name came up in a conversation, someone mentioned that you would be hosting it and I couldn't resist."
Sam hadn't said anything after that, she didn't need to; instead choosing to change the conversation.
When they had eventually called it quits and realised that it was time to go home, they exchanged numbers, promising each other that they would speak again soon. And they did, Michael had rung her the next day, arranging the next time they meet up. And that's how it started, dinner here and coffee there. It was Sam who made the first move this time, unlike all those years ago. Everything seemed to click into place from that point, they were finally delving into something they had both wanted from the first moment they met.
Before she knew it, years had passed, they had been living together for as long as she could remember and now she couldn't imagine her life without him.
Then she seen the news one morning, a forensic pathologist from London has died in an explosion in Afghanistan, the news reader had trailed off. Her thoughts raced and then it showed his picture and her whole body fell to the floor, not Leo, she had cried to herself. And then the phone rang, it was Nikki Alexander. The same Nikki she had met all those years at that conference; she had never phoned again and they had never met up after but the young woman had popped into her mind from time to time as she wondered what she was up to now. She had known Harry had moved to America, with a Professorship in tow (he had asked her a reference, after all). But she had never thought that the next time she spoke to Nikki it would be her asking Sam to come along to the funeral of her oldest and closest friend.
She regretted all the times he had phoned and she didn't answer, all the messages that she didn't have time to respond. She thought about all the things that she had wanted to tell him but she never got round to; all the things that she was grateful to him for. Michael had reminded her that Leo would've known all those things anyway but it still hurt that she never got the chance to say them.
Sam sat at the back of the church, her hand gripping Michael's as Nikki spoke. It was a beautiful eulogy and it was clear that the woman had spent hours pouring over it, making sure that it was perfect. She had known that Nikki and Leo were close; in the rare moments where they did manage to catch each other at the right time, he had expressed how much she was like a daughter to him. It broke her heart as she watched the woman break down but the tall man, who she didn't recognise, had wrapped his arm around her and tucked her face into his chest as she sobbed.
She waited outside, watching as Nikki, along with the man, laid flowers down next to the grave. Then her eyes caught with the young woman as she headed towards her, their arms wrapping around each other. This was the first time they had seen each other since that conference; they were complete strangers yet they had people in common, one of whom had vanished suddenly from their lives. Their pain was shared; they knew exactly how the other had felt. They understood without even knowing each other.
"I'm so sorry," Sam had whispered in her ear and the tear slipped from her eyes as she heard the choked 'So am I,' in response.
She eventually found out the name of the taller man, a forensic scientist called Jack Hodgson; she didn't realise until later that evening, when she was lying in bed, that they had met before, he had been that eager, fresh out of university student who had asked her a million questions. She did briefly wonder if Nikki and Jack had met there, perhaps they had, she would never find out, she supposed. She had been introduced to a Clarissa Mullery as well, the Lyell Centre's very own forensic technician. Sam wished she could've stayed longer, wished it was under better circumstances so they could talk for hours and get to know these people more. But she was being called away as quickly as she had got there.
Sam had passed her number to Nikki once again, promising this time that they would actually arrange to meet. And they did, once or twice, nothing major. But they had talked about various things over the years and Nikki had called upon her expertise for a case that she had been working on; not that she needed to, Nikki already had all the answers anyway but Sam had relished in the thought that Nikki had wanted to seek her advice in the first place.
The next time they spoke was as the world whipped around Sam in a blind panic, as sirens blared and wails filled the air. The blood had stained her fresh, white shirt and had smeared across her face. She had phoned Nikki without thinking, she needed new eyes on this, she needed someone she could trust and she was the first person she thought of.
The dial tone rang out for what seemed like forever until, finally, she answered the phone, "Nikki Alexander?"
"There's been a shooting in Liverpool," Sam reeled off, but the line was breaking as she heard a crackle on the other end of the line, Sorry it's a bad line, can you say that again? "It's Professor Sam Ryan, Nikki, I need your help."