- Chapter Seventy-Eight -

You Scare Me

In a perfect world, everything would have fallen away. There wouldn't be a grossly sticky spider's web of criminal corporate conspiracy waiting to catch them just outside the door, and there definitely wouldn't have been this confusing monstrosity bubbling up between the two. The heiress might think that it was only that business with her folks, but he had to beg to differ - it was something so much worse. The thief might assume she was only stuck on that sordid affair with her parents, but she had to respectfully disagree - it was something unthinkably worse.

Put simply, things were already too complicated as it was, so they hardly needed to go and add to that mess. It was not even remotely a secret that neither were equipped to deal with the roller-coaster emotions, the implications and consequences; Dells had zero experience in that department, and Sam... Sam was too guarded to just let someone in like that. Even if he truly wanted to... and with Sleeping Beauty, the adventurer could say that he did. Or, at least he felt willing to try for the first time in ages, which on its own spoke volumes.

But sure, to humor the hypothetical for a moment it didn't matter what either the triad princess or the pirate expert really wanted, because there was a bigger problem than the age thing and how it would look (even though by this point both were done with polite society). Life's cruelest joke by far, the reason it was ultimately an issue was that just because one person was feeling something didn't mean that the other one was.

Would that I could just know what was going on in that pretty brain.

Far too restless for forever, in a kinder scenario the twosome could have at least stayed like they were for a bit longer. Listening to Sam's heart beat for stolen seconds that were only getting longer - dangerously closer to whole minutes even - Dells could almost picture drumming her nails lightly across the top of his chest, fingers falling just short of getting caught in the coarse hair that grew there. Spun light that was neither gold nor silver, instead of drawing detailed sketches in gray matter Sam could clearly see himself tucking some of that hair behind her ear so that he could get a better glimpse at Daniella.

In a perfect world, words wouldn't have been needed at all. But this was real-life, and as much as he might like the moment to last, it couldn't. Despite how soft and inviting her skin felt beneath his touch, Sam shaking the young woman awake was less a gentle rocking and more an abrupt shove out of no where, "You awake yet, Sleeping Bratty?"

Unable to maintain her false pretense of sleep due to the sharp gasp of surprise, Dells recoiled at the new spin on an old classic, finding it strangely bitter to hear that tone when only seconds ago everything had been so... Quiet? Amazing? Heavenly? Scowl only half pretend, she rose to meet the man halfway, "I am now, ass."

Sharp as the leer was, the thing that caught him most off-guard was the fact that she was staring him dead in the eye, a reproachful look on her wounded countenance. Honestly the largest part of him wanted to wipe that hurt away, to swipe her up into his arms until a smile crept back into the picture, but that was way too sappy for his blood, so instead Sam settled on being flippant, "It's a little early for that, don't ya think?" Another part of his brain sent out the warning that he should probably leave it there, but no, the historian doubled down, "I mean, if that's really what the princess wants I guess I could try to oblige." Joke maybe going too far now, he followed up by placing his hand on her as if he meant to follow through on his plan to sweep her up, "Normally I'd ask for a few minutes to wake up first, but I'm just here to give the princess what she wants, ain't that right?"

Okay, so maybe he was still (rightfully) pissed off about yesterday. Randomly hooking up with some townie right in front of him like that was undeniably a bitch move, a mistake on so many levels that she plainly wished she could undo. It only served to muddle what was already murky, it made her feel dirty and ashamed, and most importantly it did nothing whatsoever to close the open wounds. Hell, if anything it only cut the trenches open that much more.

Not so reluctant to pull away this time, the bride-to-be struck back in equally obnoxious fashion, "Don't you mean client?" Silvered maple disks narrowing to slits, the heiress refused to let herself look away, "Or are you too afraid that saying it like that makes it sound too much like you're being being paid to be my whore?" Shit, the internally panic flashed in the icy slivers for all to see, was that taking it too far?

"Cute." Sardonically grimacing, Sam didn't hide how enthused he was by the crack, "But maybe next time save the jokes to the professionals."

Relenting out of guilt, the edge in her spine eroded, and she was left feeling like a complete jerk-off stumbling over her own tongue, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that... You're not..." Cue the pink tinge in her cheeks, the fluster rising from the back of her neck to the dark rings of insomnia, "I was just..." Praying for a swift demise, the young woman acted on instinct and reached out for him without really meaning to, "I..."

Lips primed for kissing, the moment might have been there but the agitated adventurer definitely was not. Gaze pointedly guiding attention to the fact that her hand had fallen on his leg, it was everything else at work on his face that held her attention. "Just skip it. We'll call this a case of waking up on the wrong side of the bed."

Glad that he was willing to brush this horrendous start off, she couldn't also help but feel slightly disappointed that he hadn't made more of the moment. Technically speaking there was no reason why he should have - and so far as she knew there never would be - however that knowledge didn't make the medicine any easier to swallow. Limiting herself to nodding in gratitude, it wasn't exactly an accident that it took her so long to remove her hand from his knee. I need to be more careful in the future, chastising herself during the ringing silence, the heiress had no clue if she was strong enough to behave herself around him.

Unpleasant as this morning was going, Sam couldn't honestly say that he was angry with how it might have gone under better circumstances. Reprimanding himself for thinking like that, the grizzled brunette had to remind himself that this distance was better for the both of them, even if it didn't feel like it. "Yeah, yeah. I'm too good to you."

Somehow, this didn't feel like the right time to point out that she was finally able to look at him again, so instead he brought the focus around to the fact that she was still in her bathing suit. "So," getting comfortable for the long haul, Sam leaned back against the headboard, "how about we start with this," wrist on the verge of gesturing between the pair of them, the man covered the motion up by reaching around her for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, "that. You sure you good with spending the rest of the morning in that?"

Peering down at herself to double-check her current choice in wardrobe, suddenly the girl felt just as self-conscious in her skin as she had the first time he saw her without any clothes on. Arms automatically springing to protect her chest region, she was taken aback by the fact that he was ready for such a move, catching her by the wrist with a gentle tug. Not saying anything at all, she could see it in his eyes as he shook his head. You don't have to do that. For that alone Daniella wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, however she knew that that was the fastest road to trouble, so she bit the inside of her mouth to abstain. This was going to be a bitch, wasn't it?

[One Wardrobe Check Later]

Watered, brushed, and changed into something comfy for a day in, the thief and the heiress were situated beneath a heaping order-in feast and the firm instructions that they weren't to be bothered for anything short of an emergency. Piled high with strawberries and whip cream in a simple white bowel half-forgotten at the side, the thick syrup drizzled atop the blueberry pancakes was already sticking to her thumb; in Sam's case, the plate balanced in his lap was laden with hash browns, sausage, and a couple slices of toast. Butter seeping through both sides and preserves skimped over altogether, it was less of a 'this is hers and this is mine' arrangement than it was a shared free-for-all, one of the last plump berries halfway to the conman's mouth. Sharing the spread without a single complaint, it all started when a sticky fork poked into the grilled breakfast potatoes sans invitation.

Orange juice (just orange juice, as she was still trying to cut back on liquor) washing it all down, Dells wondered to herself if this was what it could have been like. A good day with Sam, them taking it easy while waiting on some lead to pan out (or whatever it was that treasure hunters did between jobs). Realistically she could see how maybe the romanticism of that could wear thin after so long being cooped up together with no promising clues, but in the short term? It was something she could get used to.

Having made a profession out of staying on the road, living out of dirtball motels while hunting down more dead-ends than a hairdresser, this was the exact opposite kind of life a girl like Daniella would be accustomed to. It was the last thing she would want for herself if she realized what the job entailed, and yet that did nothing to stop the elder Drake brother from envisioning what a day in the life might look like. Maybe it was just a lack of imagination in his old age, but it seemed a lot like this moment, down to the same way she was grinning over the rim of a semi-clean ceramic mug.

Not so secret smile meant mostly for a certain someone, once she let go of all the surrounding bullshit and let herself just be in the moment with him, it all felt so natural, like it was always meant to be that way. Shame the truth had to go and get in the way of everything. Again.

Finally getting back around to the very serious matters at hand, the young woman broke the homey mood first, voicing the one question that seemed to haunt her the most, "Did you...?" For so many reasons, Dells couldn't bring herself to inquire if he loved her father, so instead she attempted to improvise. Poorly. "Did you care about him at all?"

Prepared to eventually get some kind of question about his relationship with her old man, his thinking was more along the lines that she was going to ask if it was anything like what they had. Perhaps it was more wishful thinking than anything else, the truth was that what they had now wasn't a damn thing like he had felt towards Rafe. Not their best moment, not for a single second. Seeing as she didn't phrase the question as he had expected, the ex-con had to consider how to answer.

Blunt as he lit his post-meal smoke, it was more a matter of keeping in mind that the girl idolized her late father than anything else, "Let's just say you won't see me mourning that asshole anytime soon."

"I see." Attempting to play it cool, girl was positively glowing at this news, almost as if he had just paid her the ultimate compliment, "That's... something." Yes! A tiny part of Dells felt badly about taking this victory from the top of her father's ashes, however it was something she would recover from. Not to say that this one clarification settled the bigger issue, but hearing that it was something long in Sam's past was a huge help.

Adorable as it was to watch her getting her hopes up (in the sincerest possible way), the historian had to be the one to remind her that there was more to the story, "Nathan was the only one that tried to save him. Elena probably would've too, if she were there for that part." Going to bat for the married couple, Sam couldn't stress enough that they had done nothing wrong in that whole nasty ordeal.

Somber, the platinum pretender was quick to rein herself back in. Thinking long and hard on it all morning, the heiress could accept that it wasn't right to blame Elena and Mr. Drake, that they were more or less forced into the story. Neither was the sort of person that would have outright killed an enemy if there wasn't another way (oh, if only she had seen the glory days!), but her father definitely was - it was more than easy to envision him bringing about his own demise, much as she was loath to admit it. As for Sam's involvement... that was something Sleeping Beauty was still trying to work out.

By all accounts the treasure seeker might not have been directly involved in Rafe Adler's final moments, but he was one of the few individuals that was aware of the other side of the coin, that Rafe was human too. That he had a little girl waiting back home. Sam knew about me, and yet he still... Closing her eyes while he cleared the remains of her short stack and placed it on the nightstand with his own dirty dishes, she tried to remind herself that he had been weighing his life and that of his brother against some child he had only seen a handful of times. To be fair, she could see the logic in that line of thinking, but...

"You wouldn't hurt me like that, would you?"

Reason stripped to such an extent that even she wasn't fully sure what she was asking, Daniella looked to Sam with wide, shining eyes. Going forward, this wasn't the answer upon which everything hinged, but it was almost definitely the answer upon which everything hinged. If he said the wrong thing here... The young woman had no idea what would happen, but she was fairly certain that it put an end to any and all dreams she might have been entertaining in the back of her brain.

Never. In lieu of spouting something that could later be touted as a lie, Sam put out his cigarette in the smoldering ashtray before moving around the bed to join the heiress at her side. Smoke wafting around them to surround the drab scenery in a pearl gauze, shy blue ice came across breathtaking water-logged hazel; holding one another aloft, the gods lost all sight of the mortals as the elder of the two took the younger's hand. Unspoken promise a bright new star on broad lips, the man solemnly blessed the pretty young creature's brow with an earnest kiss.

Author's Note:

Just in case you readers don't wanna read the reply, I'm going to say it here as well: never be afraid to voice thoughts/criticisms about my work.

In Response to gudi:

Don't want to jinx anything, but this is a story I'm very passionate about, so I'd truly love to see it through to the finish line!

And of course! I try to reply to all my reviews, even when they're from anonymous readers. Y'all take the time to share, so it's the least I can do, really. Well if it ever happens again, always feel free to point out any confusions/upsets/whatever :) And I say that to any all: never be afraid to voice thoughts/criticisms about my work. Again, it's really encouraging to hear that I'm weaving an enjoyable tale. Honestly, as much as I LOVE U4, it'd be so interesting to hear the full version of what could have been. Like every time I play Avery's Descent, I can't help but to think of what Sam would have said to Nate (and Elena?) when they get trapped down in the tunnel. Or is it just me that sees the moments after they enter the caves being the perfect moment for Sam (and Rafe?) to trap Nate underground? It just screams that kind of scene. Hmm, it's been a really long minute since the last time I watched the old stuff, so I can't really recall Todd Stashwick's performance (and I've been playing a ton of Mortal Kombat 11, so I hear Troy quite frequently). In other words, too hazy and biased to weigh in on that one at the moment. But the one line I do recall... Well, I think I'd end up loving Sam either way. Probably.

Glad to hear that! Here's until the next time!