TITLE : Repercussions
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.
RATING : R
SPOILERS : Probably.
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.
NOTES : Almost finished - I hope you experienced the same amount of joy reading this fic as I did writing it. I have many ideas blossoming in my head as I write this, so hopefully I can block out my procrastinating personality just enough for my inspired personality to take over. grin Criticism is always welcome!
Cheers! Gomes.
--------------- Repercussions (pt.11 ) ---------------
Shipshank Warehouse, Atlanta
Bailey held his breath, then let out a few short, rapid breaths as pressed Sam to his chest, holding her close to his heart. He heard the gunfire, and had shifted his head in it's trajectory. He felt the bullet sting the side of his head, but heard a loud metal-on-metal 'clank' in the distance as well. He bit his lip, stifling his cry as a searing pain graced the side of his head, right above his ear. He gently lifted his trembling hand to the side of his face, and hesitantly touched the wound; warm blood caressed his fingertips, as his breathing grew deeper. «I didn't get hit directly. . . » He concluded, as he once again touched the shallow injury. He heard a 'thump' behind him, and braced himself for another shot: he was vulnerable and his assailant was in complete control of the situation. "I would rather die in your arms than leave you." He whispered in his lover's ear. He kissed her lightly on her temple and closed his eyes, waiting for fate as the ache slowly started to ease it's way out of his mind. He gripped Sam tightly, never wanting to let go, even when he was no longer of this world.
"Bail . . . "
It was but a faint whisper, but his heart heard it more than his ears. He dared to separate himself from full contact, and gazed into beautiful clear- blue eyes. "Sam . . . " He watched as she once again succumbed to the drugs. As her eyes shut gently, he heard something clatter to the floor. He looked down and noticed the syringe that had laid half empty on the table before. Bailey turned around briskly - Sam still somewhat in his arms. He supported her with one arm, and observed the suspect on the ground; one hand on the right side of her abdomen, while the other still clutching the gun. Bailey gently placed Sam on the table, and walked over to the suspect, forcefully removing the gun. He took out his handcuffs and tied her up, in case she wakes. He returned to Sam and stroked her cheek. "You did good, kid." He smiled, as a tear escaped. He took off his sweater and gently dressed her. He placed his jacket over his undershirt and took out his cell.
"John Grant." John answered his cell hastily.
"Pick me up." Was all Bailey replied, before giving him his coordinates.
When the team arrived to the warehouse, they found Bailey sitting on the operation table with Sam in his arms. He didn't even bother to look up, for his eyes never saw such sweet and tender beauty; his vision was magnetically attracted to her and he couldn't pry his sight away from her even if he tried.
John walked past the suspect as two doctors put her on the stretcher and carted her out. "I'd never would have guessed . . ." He said, watching the ambulance pull out. "Boss, how is she?" He asked, pointing to Sam.
Bailey lifted his head and smiled weakly. It was then John took notice of the laceration right above his right ear. He was just about to open his mouth to call a medic. when Bailey cut him off. "If you know what's good for you, you'd keep quiet." The older man warned the younger one. John rewarded him with an uneasy smile and began to observe the surroundings.
"Quite a place to hold you guys captive." He said lamely, trying to make small talk. Bailey just sat, staring at Sam, waiting for Grace to arrive. He didn't trust any doctor but her, despite most of her patients state and condition. Besides, he knew that Sam was only injected with some sort of anesthetic, and the fact that she had been able to open her eyes and function somewhat while under the influence, definitely had to be a good sign. "Ah!" John's exclamation echoed through the barren building. He popped up in front of Bailey, holding a jar with a greenish liquid. "Heart à la Art." He laughed morbidly.
Bailey made a face. "That's Behar's heart?" He leaned in, and looked at the floating heart, peacefully laying suspended in goop. "What a treasure." He said, blankly.
John pointed to a shelf behind Bailey, where several instruments and another operating table lay. "I think she was going to start a collection." He shrugged, motioning two extra jars. "Do you two want some souvenirs? They literally have your names written on 'em." John joked as Grace jogged in, to join the trio.
"How is she, Bailey?" Grace asked, a little out of breath.
"She's breathing, her heart's beating and she saved my life." Bailey said the last with such admiration that both John and Grace stopped short. "If she hadn't fought the drugs, and . . . " he paused, unable to continue. "I would have been dead." He finished abruptly. He gripped the sweater that adorned her.
Grace put a hand over his and smiled truthfully. "Let's get her to the hospital." When Bailey hesitated, Grace moved her hand to the side of his cheek. "Trust me, she needs the rest. You can see her once she's released - just to make sure that the dosage, type of anesthetic and needle won't hinder her health. We have to take these things into account."
Bailey nodded, and his eyes briefly drooped shut. He forced them open, and then cringed as the dull pain once again returned to his temple. He placed a hand on the side, and a small moan escaped his lips.
Grace rolled her eyes. "Here you are with a hole in your head - which goes without saying - and you don't even seek medical help?!" Grace complained, as if she was punishing a three year old. "Seriously Bailey," she shook her head, "the things you get yourself into!" She let out a defeated breath. "What happened this time?"
"The bullet grazed my head, that's all." Bailey said, defensively.
"Geez, you make it sound as if it's an everyday occurrence." John muttered, as he ventured over to the area where Bailey instructed him to go. "Found the bullet." He said, passing his finger over a dented area in lead pipe.
They finally got Sam unto a stretcher, after much debating and prying away from Bailey's strong arms. "I love you." He had kissed her forehead gently, and once again came eye to eye with her. He bent down to retrieve her lips with his, but she was soon carted away before he reached his destination. He knelt there watching, until the ambulance disappeared into the early morning mist. He sighed: at least Grace was with her. Bailey stood up from his kneeling position, and a wave of dizziness propelled him back down. He semi-consciously prepared himself to come into contact with the cold concrete, but instead fell roughly into someone's arms.
"Woah, easy there!" John said, allowing Bailey to lean upon him. "Don't make me say 'I told you so'." He said, with a somewhat labored breath. He managed to half carry, half drag his now unconscious boss to his car. He looked around for another agent. "Here!" He tossed Bailey's keys towards the agent. "Take her slow, and not one scratch or even your great-great grand-kids will feel the wrath of Malone." John instructed the younger agent half-jokingly. He drove Bailey to the hospital and checked him in.
***
VCTF, Atlanta
Later that evening, John sat down with a sigh. "Bailey's still unconscious, but stable." He informed Liz, George and a returning Grace.
"Probably cashing in on those countless hours of lost sleep." Liz reasoned.
"He lost a lot of blood, and they were surprised that he didn't collapse before." John added, as an afterthought.
"You know Bailey - he'll overcome anything for Sam." George said, putting up the picture of Art and his organ. "Here's the last victim."
"What a way to go . . ." Liz commented, with a disgusted look on her face. A faint 'beeping' resonated in the empty room. She picked up her pager and stared at it for a minute. She got up, smoothed out her suit and looked around the room. "It was great meeting all of you - now I know why Bailey always fights so hard for his team." She backed out of the Command Center slowly. "Give my best to Bailey, and tell him that I had an urgent," she shrugged, unable to think of a reason, "meeting of some sort - he'll understand." She laughed nervously. "I'm glad that Samantha's back." She waved a goodbye, and exited shyly.
The team looked at eachother. "Sam will be happy. . ." John offered.
"Sam will be happy about what?" A voice reached them, and they all turned around to see Sam walking slowly into the room. They all got up, giving her a fragile hug.
"Good to have you back." George said, sitting back at his computer.
"Yeah, we missed you." John said, as Grace kissed her on the cheek.
"You can't get rid of me that easily." Sam said, her eyes scanning the room. "Where's . . ."
"He's in the hospital, Sam." John said. "A bullet -"
"- grazed the side of his head, yes I know." Sam smiled. After a long pause, "is he okay?" She relaxed slightly after Grace nodded a confirmation. "George?"
"Yeah?"
"Where is she?" Sam asked, as she fingered her keys in her pocket. John eyed her suspiciously.
"No George." John placed a hand on the hacker's shoulder. "Sam, I'll take you there, but I'm not - under any circumstances - letting you go alone."
"Honey, why don't you wait until Bailey's out of the hospital, and you'll both go." Grace offered.
"No, I want to see her alone." Sam said, with conviction. "John, drive me there, but I'm going in alone."
John rolled his eyes. "Damn, both you and Bailey - stubborn as donkeys." He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the parking lot.
***
Atlanta Federal Prison, Atlanta
Sam walked down the hushed corridors and into a rather intimate room. She placed a chair in front of her and opened her files, letting them rest on the table. She took a sip of water, for she realized the effects of the drugs hadn't completely worn off.
"Samantha, how nice of you to pay a visit."
Sam looked up at her tormentor. "Ellen." She said, professionally.
"Did you enjoy your rest?" Ellen smirked, and plopped down on the chair lazily. "I feel relaxed, though you were given much more of a dosage than I was." She muttered the last part bitterly.
Sam drummed her fingers on the table. "Why didn't you administer the complete amount - why leave half of it still in the tube?" Sam asked plainly, she didn't feel like beating around the bush.
"You must be full of questions, hunh?" Ellen's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Why did I kill all those people? What event in my childhood could have triggered this pent up anger? Why would I take my husband's life? Why torment Bailey?" Her eyes fell upon Sam's eyes. "Why torment you. . ."
Sam felt herself quickly losing control over the situation. "Ellen." She pleaded.
Ellen let out a throaty laugh. "From a respected FBI Agent's wife to a criminal on death row." She stated, semi-avoiding Sam's questioning gaze. "It's funny how one person's presence can completely alter one's relationship." Sam's eyes shot up. "Ah, I see you've felt it too."
Sam retreated inwardly, putting her defenses up strong. "I see where you're heading. You're still trying to retaliate to what you believe Bailey has taken away from you."
Ellen raised her eyebrow defiantly, taunting Sam to continue.
"When things didn't work out between you and Bailey, you needed a fall- back, reassurance if you will. Art wouldn't take you back . . .would he?" Sam whispered. When she got no answer, she continued strong. "So you blackmailed him, threatened him, used every trick in the book to get him to do your bidding. But you knew you wouldn't need him for long, not until you got the one thing he cared about the most." Sam took another sip, to cool her burning throat. "So, you're trying to alienate me from him, aren't you? You want him to feel rejection as you've felt it . . . poison my mind, despite the fact that you are the venomous snake." Sam felt the anger rising inside, and inhaled deeply, letting out a soft and controlled exhalation.
"Interesting perspective" Ellen shrugged, "though I've done nothing wrong." She laughed. "I did them a favour."
Sam smiled a little and looked at her intently. "Everyone who had been somewhat rejected by Bailey, you thought you were saving them . . . and in the meantime putting Bailey under fire. You knew it wouldn't take long for people to put two and two together once background checks were conducted." Sam continued to study Ellen's behaviour. "Removing their hearts . . . the one thing he had abused."
Ellen tried to change the subject. "You think he loves you."
Sam never took her eyes off Ellen. "I don't question that." She said, with confidence.
Ellen leaned on the table. "He told me he loved me. When we made love, or just lay together." She paused. "Words mean nothing to him. He uses you, spits you back out when he's done and leaves you in a state that even your ex-husband couldn't endure." Ellen barked, emotion finally becoming evident on her tired traits.
Sam remained calm, accepting that the ball was now in her court. "Why require the need to say it, when you can feel it in your heart?"
"How do you know he feels it?" Ellen whispered. "Love doesn't always work that way, kid." She leaned back, a pensive look on her face. "Hell, you might sleep with him, bear his children . . . but one night, when he moans someone else's name - what happens then?" Ellen observed Sam. "It changes everything, despite trying to ignore it. Always, in the back of your mind, you'll feel it there. Everytime he touches you, kisses you, makes love to you . . . you'll always remember that you're second choice." She paused. "Leftovers."
Sam's brow furrowed. «What role *did* Liz play in this.» Grace had explained that she was just a decoy, but then why didn't Ellen go after her? «Why go straight to me?» She shook her head. «But if Bailey could fool me with his love, what is and what isn't a charade?» She looked up at Ellen questioningly.
"He hurt me, and look what it pushed me to do." She said placidly.
Sam stood up and began pacing. "Don't blame this on him!" She threatened, though it was meager.
"How would you feel when the one person you love with all your heart, who has promised you the stars, who has shared countless nights of becoming one - suddenly turns around and says that 'they've been living a lie, and there's someone else." Ellen stood up and walked to the door. She banged on it a couple of times. "How could you live? Anger, resentment, frustration, hatred, pity, depression . . . should I go on?" The door opened and a guard took her by the arm. "I still love him." She whispered, as she was dragged out, leaving a confused Sam in her wake.
***
VCTF, Atlanta
Sam sat patiently in Bailey's office. She knew he would stop off here to make sure she was alright. Her house was not yet ready, thus she was still temporarily homeless. She had just finished a quick call to Chloe when he walked in. Sam held her breath as he stepped in front of her.
Bailey extended his hand lovingly to her, and she fought a losing battle of resistance. He helped her up and enveloped her into a crushing hug. "I was so worried." He murmured in her ear.
Sam felt his body shake with silent sobs, and she began to block out what Ellen had been polluting her mind earlier with. "I knew you'd come. . . I knew you wouldn't leave me." She pressed her body closer to his, wanting to mould herself into him.
"I'll always be there for you, love." He said, finally breaking slightly apart to look at her. "I never want to miss another laugh, smile, tear . . . breath."
Sam smiled, touched. She leaned up, inching towards his parted lips. Her lips brushed slightly against hers, and he bent down to catch her upper lip between his teeth when they were interrupted by a voice.
"Bailey." Liz called out from the door. "Samantha, sorry to interrupt." She motioned for her to step outside.
Sam looked at Bailey, waiting to see his reaction. Bailey eased his hold on Sam. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her outside. "It'll just be a second." He reassured her, and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
Sam stared at Bailey in disbelief, even as the door closed in her face. She watched as Liz leaned in and spoke in hushed tone, and finally Bailey responding by lifting her into a tight hug and planting a kiss on her cheek. Ellen's words flooded Sam's thoughts. "Too good to be true. . ." She muttered to herself, as she made her way hastily towards the elevator.
--TBC--
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.
RATING : R
SPOILERS : Probably.
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.
NOTES : Almost finished - I hope you experienced the same amount of joy reading this fic as I did writing it. I have many ideas blossoming in my head as I write this, so hopefully I can block out my procrastinating personality just enough for my inspired personality to take over. grin Criticism is always welcome!
Cheers! Gomes.
--------------- Repercussions (pt.11 ) ---------------
Shipshank Warehouse, Atlanta
Bailey held his breath, then let out a few short, rapid breaths as pressed Sam to his chest, holding her close to his heart. He heard the gunfire, and had shifted his head in it's trajectory. He felt the bullet sting the side of his head, but heard a loud metal-on-metal 'clank' in the distance as well. He bit his lip, stifling his cry as a searing pain graced the side of his head, right above his ear. He gently lifted his trembling hand to the side of his face, and hesitantly touched the wound; warm blood caressed his fingertips, as his breathing grew deeper. «I didn't get hit directly. . . » He concluded, as he once again touched the shallow injury. He heard a 'thump' behind him, and braced himself for another shot: he was vulnerable and his assailant was in complete control of the situation. "I would rather die in your arms than leave you." He whispered in his lover's ear. He kissed her lightly on her temple and closed his eyes, waiting for fate as the ache slowly started to ease it's way out of his mind. He gripped Sam tightly, never wanting to let go, even when he was no longer of this world.
"Bail . . . "
It was but a faint whisper, but his heart heard it more than his ears. He dared to separate himself from full contact, and gazed into beautiful clear- blue eyes. "Sam . . . " He watched as she once again succumbed to the drugs. As her eyes shut gently, he heard something clatter to the floor. He looked down and noticed the syringe that had laid half empty on the table before. Bailey turned around briskly - Sam still somewhat in his arms. He supported her with one arm, and observed the suspect on the ground; one hand on the right side of her abdomen, while the other still clutching the gun. Bailey gently placed Sam on the table, and walked over to the suspect, forcefully removing the gun. He took out his handcuffs and tied her up, in case she wakes. He returned to Sam and stroked her cheek. "You did good, kid." He smiled, as a tear escaped. He took off his sweater and gently dressed her. He placed his jacket over his undershirt and took out his cell.
"John Grant." John answered his cell hastily.
"Pick me up." Was all Bailey replied, before giving him his coordinates.
When the team arrived to the warehouse, they found Bailey sitting on the operation table with Sam in his arms. He didn't even bother to look up, for his eyes never saw such sweet and tender beauty; his vision was magnetically attracted to her and he couldn't pry his sight away from her even if he tried.
John walked past the suspect as two doctors put her on the stretcher and carted her out. "I'd never would have guessed . . ." He said, watching the ambulance pull out. "Boss, how is she?" He asked, pointing to Sam.
Bailey lifted his head and smiled weakly. It was then John took notice of the laceration right above his right ear. He was just about to open his mouth to call a medic. when Bailey cut him off. "If you know what's good for you, you'd keep quiet." The older man warned the younger one. John rewarded him with an uneasy smile and began to observe the surroundings.
"Quite a place to hold you guys captive." He said lamely, trying to make small talk. Bailey just sat, staring at Sam, waiting for Grace to arrive. He didn't trust any doctor but her, despite most of her patients state and condition. Besides, he knew that Sam was only injected with some sort of anesthetic, and the fact that she had been able to open her eyes and function somewhat while under the influence, definitely had to be a good sign. "Ah!" John's exclamation echoed through the barren building. He popped up in front of Bailey, holding a jar with a greenish liquid. "Heart à la Art." He laughed morbidly.
Bailey made a face. "That's Behar's heart?" He leaned in, and looked at the floating heart, peacefully laying suspended in goop. "What a treasure." He said, blankly.
John pointed to a shelf behind Bailey, where several instruments and another operating table lay. "I think she was going to start a collection." He shrugged, motioning two extra jars. "Do you two want some souvenirs? They literally have your names written on 'em." John joked as Grace jogged in, to join the trio.
"How is she, Bailey?" Grace asked, a little out of breath.
"She's breathing, her heart's beating and she saved my life." Bailey said the last with such admiration that both John and Grace stopped short. "If she hadn't fought the drugs, and . . . " he paused, unable to continue. "I would have been dead." He finished abruptly. He gripped the sweater that adorned her.
Grace put a hand over his and smiled truthfully. "Let's get her to the hospital." When Bailey hesitated, Grace moved her hand to the side of his cheek. "Trust me, she needs the rest. You can see her once she's released - just to make sure that the dosage, type of anesthetic and needle won't hinder her health. We have to take these things into account."
Bailey nodded, and his eyes briefly drooped shut. He forced them open, and then cringed as the dull pain once again returned to his temple. He placed a hand on the side, and a small moan escaped his lips.
Grace rolled her eyes. "Here you are with a hole in your head - which goes without saying - and you don't even seek medical help?!" Grace complained, as if she was punishing a three year old. "Seriously Bailey," she shook her head, "the things you get yourself into!" She let out a defeated breath. "What happened this time?"
"The bullet grazed my head, that's all." Bailey said, defensively.
"Geez, you make it sound as if it's an everyday occurrence." John muttered, as he ventured over to the area where Bailey instructed him to go. "Found the bullet." He said, passing his finger over a dented area in lead pipe.
They finally got Sam unto a stretcher, after much debating and prying away from Bailey's strong arms. "I love you." He had kissed her forehead gently, and once again came eye to eye with her. He bent down to retrieve her lips with his, but she was soon carted away before he reached his destination. He knelt there watching, until the ambulance disappeared into the early morning mist. He sighed: at least Grace was with her. Bailey stood up from his kneeling position, and a wave of dizziness propelled him back down. He semi-consciously prepared himself to come into contact with the cold concrete, but instead fell roughly into someone's arms.
"Woah, easy there!" John said, allowing Bailey to lean upon him. "Don't make me say 'I told you so'." He said, with a somewhat labored breath. He managed to half carry, half drag his now unconscious boss to his car. He looked around for another agent. "Here!" He tossed Bailey's keys towards the agent. "Take her slow, and not one scratch or even your great-great grand-kids will feel the wrath of Malone." John instructed the younger agent half-jokingly. He drove Bailey to the hospital and checked him in.
***
VCTF, Atlanta
Later that evening, John sat down with a sigh. "Bailey's still unconscious, but stable." He informed Liz, George and a returning Grace.
"Probably cashing in on those countless hours of lost sleep." Liz reasoned.
"He lost a lot of blood, and they were surprised that he didn't collapse before." John added, as an afterthought.
"You know Bailey - he'll overcome anything for Sam." George said, putting up the picture of Art and his organ. "Here's the last victim."
"What a way to go . . ." Liz commented, with a disgusted look on her face. A faint 'beeping' resonated in the empty room. She picked up her pager and stared at it for a minute. She got up, smoothed out her suit and looked around the room. "It was great meeting all of you - now I know why Bailey always fights so hard for his team." She backed out of the Command Center slowly. "Give my best to Bailey, and tell him that I had an urgent," she shrugged, unable to think of a reason, "meeting of some sort - he'll understand." She laughed nervously. "I'm glad that Samantha's back." She waved a goodbye, and exited shyly.
The team looked at eachother. "Sam will be happy. . ." John offered.
"Sam will be happy about what?" A voice reached them, and they all turned around to see Sam walking slowly into the room. They all got up, giving her a fragile hug.
"Good to have you back." George said, sitting back at his computer.
"Yeah, we missed you." John said, as Grace kissed her on the cheek.
"You can't get rid of me that easily." Sam said, her eyes scanning the room. "Where's . . ."
"He's in the hospital, Sam." John said. "A bullet -"
"- grazed the side of his head, yes I know." Sam smiled. After a long pause, "is he okay?" She relaxed slightly after Grace nodded a confirmation. "George?"
"Yeah?"
"Where is she?" Sam asked, as she fingered her keys in her pocket. John eyed her suspiciously.
"No George." John placed a hand on the hacker's shoulder. "Sam, I'll take you there, but I'm not - under any circumstances - letting you go alone."
"Honey, why don't you wait until Bailey's out of the hospital, and you'll both go." Grace offered.
"No, I want to see her alone." Sam said, with conviction. "John, drive me there, but I'm going in alone."
John rolled his eyes. "Damn, both you and Bailey - stubborn as donkeys." He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the parking lot.
***
Atlanta Federal Prison, Atlanta
Sam walked down the hushed corridors and into a rather intimate room. She placed a chair in front of her and opened her files, letting them rest on the table. She took a sip of water, for she realized the effects of the drugs hadn't completely worn off.
"Samantha, how nice of you to pay a visit."
Sam looked up at her tormentor. "Ellen." She said, professionally.
"Did you enjoy your rest?" Ellen smirked, and plopped down on the chair lazily. "I feel relaxed, though you were given much more of a dosage than I was." She muttered the last part bitterly.
Sam drummed her fingers on the table. "Why didn't you administer the complete amount - why leave half of it still in the tube?" Sam asked plainly, she didn't feel like beating around the bush.
"You must be full of questions, hunh?" Ellen's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Why did I kill all those people? What event in my childhood could have triggered this pent up anger? Why would I take my husband's life? Why torment Bailey?" Her eyes fell upon Sam's eyes. "Why torment you. . ."
Sam felt herself quickly losing control over the situation. "Ellen." She pleaded.
Ellen let out a throaty laugh. "From a respected FBI Agent's wife to a criminal on death row." She stated, semi-avoiding Sam's questioning gaze. "It's funny how one person's presence can completely alter one's relationship." Sam's eyes shot up. "Ah, I see you've felt it too."
Sam retreated inwardly, putting her defenses up strong. "I see where you're heading. You're still trying to retaliate to what you believe Bailey has taken away from you."
Ellen raised her eyebrow defiantly, taunting Sam to continue.
"When things didn't work out between you and Bailey, you needed a fall- back, reassurance if you will. Art wouldn't take you back . . .would he?" Sam whispered. When she got no answer, she continued strong. "So you blackmailed him, threatened him, used every trick in the book to get him to do your bidding. But you knew you wouldn't need him for long, not until you got the one thing he cared about the most." Sam took another sip, to cool her burning throat. "So, you're trying to alienate me from him, aren't you? You want him to feel rejection as you've felt it . . . poison my mind, despite the fact that you are the venomous snake." Sam felt the anger rising inside, and inhaled deeply, letting out a soft and controlled exhalation.
"Interesting perspective" Ellen shrugged, "though I've done nothing wrong." She laughed. "I did them a favour."
Sam smiled a little and looked at her intently. "Everyone who had been somewhat rejected by Bailey, you thought you were saving them . . . and in the meantime putting Bailey under fire. You knew it wouldn't take long for people to put two and two together once background checks were conducted." Sam continued to study Ellen's behaviour. "Removing their hearts . . . the one thing he had abused."
Ellen tried to change the subject. "You think he loves you."
Sam never took her eyes off Ellen. "I don't question that." She said, with confidence.
Ellen leaned on the table. "He told me he loved me. When we made love, or just lay together." She paused. "Words mean nothing to him. He uses you, spits you back out when he's done and leaves you in a state that even your ex-husband couldn't endure." Ellen barked, emotion finally becoming evident on her tired traits.
Sam remained calm, accepting that the ball was now in her court. "Why require the need to say it, when you can feel it in your heart?"
"How do you know he feels it?" Ellen whispered. "Love doesn't always work that way, kid." She leaned back, a pensive look on her face. "Hell, you might sleep with him, bear his children . . . but one night, when he moans someone else's name - what happens then?" Ellen observed Sam. "It changes everything, despite trying to ignore it. Always, in the back of your mind, you'll feel it there. Everytime he touches you, kisses you, makes love to you . . . you'll always remember that you're second choice." She paused. "Leftovers."
Sam's brow furrowed. «What role *did* Liz play in this.» Grace had explained that she was just a decoy, but then why didn't Ellen go after her? «Why go straight to me?» She shook her head. «But if Bailey could fool me with his love, what is and what isn't a charade?» She looked up at Ellen questioningly.
"He hurt me, and look what it pushed me to do." She said placidly.
Sam stood up and began pacing. "Don't blame this on him!" She threatened, though it was meager.
"How would you feel when the one person you love with all your heart, who has promised you the stars, who has shared countless nights of becoming one - suddenly turns around and says that 'they've been living a lie, and there's someone else." Ellen stood up and walked to the door. She banged on it a couple of times. "How could you live? Anger, resentment, frustration, hatred, pity, depression . . . should I go on?" The door opened and a guard took her by the arm. "I still love him." She whispered, as she was dragged out, leaving a confused Sam in her wake.
***
VCTF, Atlanta
Sam sat patiently in Bailey's office. She knew he would stop off here to make sure she was alright. Her house was not yet ready, thus she was still temporarily homeless. She had just finished a quick call to Chloe when he walked in. Sam held her breath as he stepped in front of her.
Bailey extended his hand lovingly to her, and she fought a losing battle of resistance. He helped her up and enveloped her into a crushing hug. "I was so worried." He murmured in her ear.
Sam felt his body shake with silent sobs, and she began to block out what Ellen had been polluting her mind earlier with. "I knew you'd come. . . I knew you wouldn't leave me." She pressed her body closer to his, wanting to mould herself into him.
"I'll always be there for you, love." He said, finally breaking slightly apart to look at her. "I never want to miss another laugh, smile, tear . . . breath."
Sam smiled, touched. She leaned up, inching towards his parted lips. Her lips brushed slightly against hers, and he bent down to catch her upper lip between his teeth when they were interrupted by a voice.
"Bailey." Liz called out from the door. "Samantha, sorry to interrupt." She motioned for her to step outside.
Sam looked at Bailey, waiting to see his reaction. Bailey eased his hold on Sam. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her outside. "It'll just be a second." He reassured her, and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
Sam stared at Bailey in disbelief, even as the door closed in her face. She watched as Liz leaned in and spoke in hushed tone, and finally Bailey responding by lifting her into a tight hug and planting a kiss on her cheek. Ellen's words flooded Sam's thoughts. "Too good to be true. . ." She muttered to herself, as she made her way hastily towards the elevator.
--TBC--