TITLE : Compromising Situation
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : SBR
RATING : R
SPOILERS : Probably
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : Bailey's actions leads to Sam's capture by Jack, and revelations ensue.
NOTES : Ah, part three. No notes today - my personality is on vacation.
Cheers!
Gomes.
------------------------------- Compromising Situation (pt.3) -------------------------------
December 25th -- Holiday Inn Express, British Columbia
Bailey and Sam stared at eachother for a long time, both expressing their mutual fears. Bailey checked his watch and then looked back at Sam. "It's getting late, Sam." He said, afraid to mention the word 'sleep'. To him, sleep was the enemy: encased in what may seem as a comforting bubble only interrupted by profound security, sleep has proven to be anything but; sleep is when one is most susceptible to harm . . . sleep is where one can't protect another . . . sleep is futile when being hunted. "We have to interview the coroner tomorrow. I know it's Christmas, but the case comes first." He said getting up slowly. "You get some sleep, and I'll be in the next room . . . " He didn't want to leave her, but he didn't want to offer to sleep in the same bed. However, if she asked him too, it would be a different matter.
Sam was a step ahead of Bailey. She knew he would never refuse her . . . especially at a time like this. Jack was out there, she was painfully aware. "Bail . . ." Her eyes revealed everything, and her tone asked for security.
Bailey simply nodded and climbed into bed. He spooned Sam, almost completely covering her small frame with his body. He snaked an arm across her, holding her near him. Meanwhile, Sam pressed herself back, leaning into Bailey's hard chest. Her breathing was rapid as she tried to calm herself down. «Jack is out to get us . . . » She kept telling herself.
Bailey leaned over resting his chin on her shoulder. "Do you really think Jack wants us both dead?" He whispered into her ear.
Sam just stared in front. Bailey's voice . . . his breath in her ear was having an arousing affect on her and she wasn't sure if she could control herself any longer. "I think . . ." she cleared her throat, "that Jill probably helped Jack with the killings." Sam said, her voice a little shaky. "Those lives were lost because of . . . " Sam stopped herself.
"It's okay." Bailey whispered again, and nuzzled up to her neck. He unconsciously placed a gentle kiss there, which prompted Sam to let out a soft moan. Bailey began to gently graze his fingers over the flannel material that covered Sam's stomach. He dared to go under her shirt and Sam caved her stomach inwardly as his cold fingertips met her belly in an electrifying touch. She soon warmed to his touch, as his strong hand rubbed her stomach. From time to time, his thumb would graze the underneath of her breasts, and Sam found herself aching for more. Bailey couldn't stop himself now, and he realized he would be soon crossing the line between friendship and.«and what, you pervert?» Bailey berated himself. «Here she is, afraid and with all the right in the world to be, asking for some comfort and all you want to do is cop a feel.» He mentally yelled at himself. But he knew he couldn't stop his body, and Sam's soft moans and rapid breathing were driving him crazy. His hand ventured a little lower, stopping right before Sam's womanhood. He left his hand there, and Sam squirmed underneath his touch, hoping his beautiful hand would come into contact with her. Bailey took this as a sign to continue and slowly slipped his hand in her pants. He started caressing her through her panties and Sam inhaled deeply. He slowly moved her panties to the side, and inserted a finger into her.
"Bail . . . " Sam whispered in a sultry voice. She turned slightly and felt his gaze on her. It had been so long since she had been pleasured . . . and she dreamt that Bailey would be the one to supply the pleasure to her. He was looking at her, and she swore she could see love in his eyes . . . love only directed at her. She leaned in, and her lips barely touched his as she climaxed. She thrust her head back and moaned his name.
Bailey snapped back to reality, and was utterly disgusted with himself. «How could you take advantage of her like that!» He cursed himself. He got up and sat on the bed, facing away from Sam. Dropping his head in his hands, he choked out a small "sorry" and headed for the door.
"Bailey?" Sam said, still recovering from her orgasm, propped herself up on her shoulders.
"Sam." Bailey said in a gruff voice. "I can't believe I. . . " He shook his head, hoping that the shaking would rid him of this awful deed he had just committed. "I'm going to take a walk." He said, as he closed the door behind him.
"Bail?" Sam called out after him, but he just kept walking. Sam collapsed on the bed, and gazed up at the ceiling. She turned on the light, and looked up once again. Tears stood in her eyes as she wondered why Bailey would just up and leave. «Didn't he realize that I wanted this?» She asked herself. She closed her eyes for a minute when she suddenly felt a soft almost silky object caress her skin. She opened her eyes and there were a few rose petals dispersed on the bed. Tears welled up in her eyes as she finally felt violated. «Has Jack been in here?» She thought as she looked around. Sam cautiously got up and reached for her gun that was usually lying in her purse. It was gone. She looked around the room, turning on the other bedside lamp in the meantime. Sam gasped as she saw what was written on the wall. In black paint, Jack had drawn a heart with the names Sam and Bailey in it. Then in blood, there had been a large 'X' on it, and Bailey's name had been replaced with Jack's. "No . . . NO!!" Sam crumbled into a little ball and held herself. She was rocking back and forth, when she suddenly felt a little prick in her leg. «Underneath the bed!!» She screamed to herself, but her vision was already getting blurry. She saw a figure immerge from underneath the bed, and she kicked at its face with all her might. The figure staggered back and Sam tried to make a run for it. But the figure was too quick, and grabbed Sam by the neck, breaking her necklace at the same time. The necklace flew straight to the ground, and Sam crashed to the floor, realizing that was as far as she would ever get. «It's over . . . isn't it.» She thought to herself as she succumbed to ever inviting darkness.
"Samantha . . . " It was but a distant whisper from Jack's lips as he wrapped her in the tablecloth, and placed her on the lower shelf of the trolley. " . . . it's our time now." He chuckled malevolently, as he opened the door to cart her out.
There stood Bailey, face to face with his nemesis, the man who had hurt Sam so many times and who continued to plague her life was within his grasp. But he didn't know it was Jack . . . Bailey had never seen Jack. But his instincts weren't rusty at all. "What are you doing here?" Bailey asked, suspiciously.
"Room service." Came the raspy reply.
"At three in the morning?" Bailey said, taking a step closer. He looked past the man, and into the room. Sam was missing. His eyes scanned the room, where they fell upon the syringe, the graffiti on the wall as well as the rose petals. "Where is she?" He yelled, and lunged for the man.
Jack pulled out Sam's gun and aimed it at Bailey. One loud bang and it was over. Jack pushed the trolley out leaving a wounded Bailey in his wake. Bailey slowly reached for his cell and dialed 9-1-1. By the time someone came on the line, he had passed out, but an ambulance was already waiting outside. Bailey was carted to the Delta Hospital in Vancouver. Though Bailey was drenched in darkness, his mind never ceased functioning. Bailey knew that he would survive, only because of the power in his heart. «I'll find you Sam.» He assured himself that, as the paramedics at the Delta Hospital hooked him up to various machines and tended to his wound. Nurses tried in vain to contact his nearest relatives. Getting no response from Janet's house as well as Francis's apartment, she decided to call the VCTF in Atlanta after having found Bailey's badge.
«Who would be there at three-thirty in the morning is beyond me.» She muttered painfully as she stole a look in his wallet. A picture of a dark- haired woman with the inscription 'Janet 1988' was written. There were two other pictures of small girls. «No doubt his daughters.» She remarked to herself, as she eyed the handsome man that lay helpless in the ICU. The last picture was of a blond woman, much younger than he was. Her blue eyes were piercing and the picture seemed rather worn out. It was dated but a year ago, but it seemed that it had been manipulated a lot. The woman was jarred out of her thoughts as someone answered the line.
"VCTF, Atlanta." The security officer said.
"I'm calling on behalf of," she checked his ID card, "Bailey Malone."
The security officer paused. "Yeah, I know him."
"I need someone from his force to come down here." The nurse paused and looked back at Bailey. "It doesn't look good . . . " She said. She gave the coordinates, and the security officer contacted John Grant who then proceeded to call the rest of the gang. It was nearing six in the morning on Christmas Day, when all should have been rejoicing with their families; the VCTF crew were heading down to Vancouver to save one of their own.
--TBC--
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : SBR
RATING : R
SPOILERS : Probably
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : Bailey's actions leads to Sam's capture by Jack, and revelations ensue.
NOTES : Ah, part three. No notes today - my personality is on vacation.
Cheers!
Gomes.
------------------------------- Compromising Situation (pt.3) -------------------------------
December 25th -- Holiday Inn Express, British Columbia
Bailey and Sam stared at eachother for a long time, both expressing their mutual fears. Bailey checked his watch and then looked back at Sam. "It's getting late, Sam." He said, afraid to mention the word 'sleep'. To him, sleep was the enemy: encased in what may seem as a comforting bubble only interrupted by profound security, sleep has proven to be anything but; sleep is when one is most susceptible to harm . . . sleep is where one can't protect another . . . sleep is futile when being hunted. "We have to interview the coroner tomorrow. I know it's Christmas, but the case comes first." He said getting up slowly. "You get some sleep, and I'll be in the next room . . . " He didn't want to leave her, but he didn't want to offer to sleep in the same bed. However, if she asked him too, it would be a different matter.
Sam was a step ahead of Bailey. She knew he would never refuse her . . . especially at a time like this. Jack was out there, she was painfully aware. "Bail . . ." Her eyes revealed everything, and her tone asked for security.
Bailey simply nodded and climbed into bed. He spooned Sam, almost completely covering her small frame with his body. He snaked an arm across her, holding her near him. Meanwhile, Sam pressed herself back, leaning into Bailey's hard chest. Her breathing was rapid as she tried to calm herself down. «Jack is out to get us . . . » She kept telling herself.
Bailey leaned over resting his chin on her shoulder. "Do you really think Jack wants us both dead?" He whispered into her ear.
Sam just stared in front. Bailey's voice . . . his breath in her ear was having an arousing affect on her and she wasn't sure if she could control herself any longer. "I think . . ." she cleared her throat, "that Jill probably helped Jack with the killings." Sam said, her voice a little shaky. "Those lives were lost because of . . . " Sam stopped herself.
"It's okay." Bailey whispered again, and nuzzled up to her neck. He unconsciously placed a gentle kiss there, which prompted Sam to let out a soft moan. Bailey began to gently graze his fingers over the flannel material that covered Sam's stomach. He dared to go under her shirt and Sam caved her stomach inwardly as his cold fingertips met her belly in an electrifying touch. She soon warmed to his touch, as his strong hand rubbed her stomach. From time to time, his thumb would graze the underneath of her breasts, and Sam found herself aching for more. Bailey couldn't stop himself now, and he realized he would be soon crossing the line between friendship and.«and what, you pervert?» Bailey berated himself. «Here she is, afraid and with all the right in the world to be, asking for some comfort and all you want to do is cop a feel.» He mentally yelled at himself. But he knew he couldn't stop his body, and Sam's soft moans and rapid breathing were driving him crazy. His hand ventured a little lower, stopping right before Sam's womanhood. He left his hand there, and Sam squirmed underneath his touch, hoping his beautiful hand would come into contact with her. Bailey took this as a sign to continue and slowly slipped his hand in her pants. He started caressing her through her panties and Sam inhaled deeply. He slowly moved her panties to the side, and inserted a finger into her.
"Bail . . . " Sam whispered in a sultry voice. She turned slightly and felt his gaze on her. It had been so long since she had been pleasured . . . and she dreamt that Bailey would be the one to supply the pleasure to her. He was looking at her, and she swore she could see love in his eyes . . . love only directed at her. She leaned in, and her lips barely touched his as she climaxed. She thrust her head back and moaned his name.
Bailey snapped back to reality, and was utterly disgusted with himself. «How could you take advantage of her like that!» He cursed himself. He got up and sat on the bed, facing away from Sam. Dropping his head in his hands, he choked out a small "sorry" and headed for the door.
"Bailey?" Sam said, still recovering from her orgasm, propped herself up on her shoulders.
"Sam." Bailey said in a gruff voice. "I can't believe I. . . " He shook his head, hoping that the shaking would rid him of this awful deed he had just committed. "I'm going to take a walk." He said, as he closed the door behind him.
"Bail?" Sam called out after him, but he just kept walking. Sam collapsed on the bed, and gazed up at the ceiling. She turned on the light, and looked up once again. Tears stood in her eyes as she wondered why Bailey would just up and leave. «Didn't he realize that I wanted this?» She asked herself. She closed her eyes for a minute when she suddenly felt a soft almost silky object caress her skin. She opened her eyes and there were a few rose petals dispersed on the bed. Tears welled up in her eyes as she finally felt violated. «Has Jack been in here?» She thought as she looked around. Sam cautiously got up and reached for her gun that was usually lying in her purse. It was gone. She looked around the room, turning on the other bedside lamp in the meantime. Sam gasped as she saw what was written on the wall. In black paint, Jack had drawn a heart with the names Sam and Bailey in it. Then in blood, there had been a large 'X' on it, and Bailey's name had been replaced with Jack's. "No . . . NO!!" Sam crumbled into a little ball and held herself. She was rocking back and forth, when she suddenly felt a little prick in her leg. «Underneath the bed!!» She screamed to herself, but her vision was already getting blurry. She saw a figure immerge from underneath the bed, and she kicked at its face with all her might. The figure staggered back and Sam tried to make a run for it. But the figure was too quick, and grabbed Sam by the neck, breaking her necklace at the same time. The necklace flew straight to the ground, and Sam crashed to the floor, realizing that was as far as she would ever get. «It's over . . . isn't it.» She thought to herself as she succumbed to ever inviting darkness.
"Samantha . . . " It was but a distant whisper from Jack's lips as he wrapped her in the tablecloth, and placed her on the lower shelf of the trolley. " . . . it's our time now." He chuckled malevolently, as he opened the door to cart her out.
There stood Bailey, face to face with his nemesis, the man who had hurt Sam so many times and who continued to plague her life was within his grasp. But he didn't know it was Jack . . . Bailey had never seen Jack. But his instincts weren't rusty at all. "What are you doing here?" Bailey asked, suspiciously.
"Room service." Came the raspy reply.
"At three in the morning?" Bailey said, taking a step closer. He looked past the man, and into the room. Sam was missing. His eyes scanned the room, where they fell upon the syringe, the graffiti on the wall as well as the rose petals. "Where is she?" He yelled, and lunged for the man.
Jack pulled out Sam's gun and aimed it at Bailey. One loud bang and it was over. Jack pushed the trolley out leaving a wounded Bailey in his wake. Bailey slowly reached for his cell and dialed 9-1-1. By the time someone came on the line, he had passed out, but an ambulance was already waiting outside. Bailey was carted to the Delta Hospital in Vancouver. Though Bailey was drenched in darkness, his mind never ceased functioning. Bailey knew that he would survive, only because of the power in his heart. «I'll find you Sam.» He assured himself that, as the paramedics at the Delta Hospital hooked him up to various machines and tended to his wound. Nurses tried in vain to contact his nearest relatives. Getting no response from Janet's house as well as Francis's apartment, she decided to call the VCTF in Atlanta after having found Bailey's badge.
«Who would be there at three-thirty in the morning is beyond me.» She muttered painfully as she stole a look in his wallet. A picture of a dark- haired woman with the inscription 'Janet 1988' was written. There were two other pictures of small girls. «No doubt his daughters.» She remarked to herself, as she eyed the handsome man that lay helpless in the ICU. The last picture was of a blond woman, much younger than he was. Her blue eyes were piercing and the picture seemed rather worn out. It was dated but a year ago, but it seemed that it had been manipulated a lot. The woman was jarred out of her thoughts as someone answered the line.
"VCTF, Atlanta." The security officer said.
"I'm calling on behalf of," she checked his ID card, "Bailey Malone."
The security officer paused. "Yeah, I know him."
"I need someone from his force to come down here." The nurse paused and looked back at Bailey. "It doesn't look good . . . " She said. She gave the coordinates, and the security officer contacted John Grant who then proceeded to call the rest of the gang. It was nearing six in the morning on Christmas Day, when all should have been rejoicing with their families; the VCTF crew were heading down to Vancouver to save one of their own.
--TBC--