Post Ep/Alt Ending to Sam Excelerates...
Sam/Angela fic,
G
"What are your intentions for my father?" Sam looked at Angela, desperate for an answer.
"Let's talk," Angela said sweetly, putting her jacket and briefcase on the stand, and walking over to the couch. She suddenly felt like a fifteen year old, being interrogated by an over protective father.
The rest of the conversation was somewhat a blur for Angela, as she tried to grasp on to what the girl was asking her, and it seemed only fair that she try and put together the fragments that were floating in her memory.
*-*-*
"May I talk to you?" Angela leaned around the door frame.
"Dad already talked to me," Sam said, somewhere between bitter and embarrassed.
"Does that mean I can't talk to you too?"
"I guess not," Sam said, her resolve quickly crumbling. She had intended to stay mad at Angela, but she couldn't.
"Good," Angela said, entering the room and pulling the door closed behind her. "About this morning..."
"Dad and I talked already, I told you." She really didn't want to revisit this topic again—especially since it seemed like nothing was ever really going to come of it.
"Yeah, but I think we need to talk again." Angela sat on the bed, beside Sam, and rested her back against the headboard. When Sam didn't join her on the bed, instead leaning against the window pane, Angela tapped the spot on the bed beside her. "Come on, don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you," Sam said a little more hastily than she had intended.
"You seem like you are."
"I'm not," she repeated.
"Okay." Angela sighed, wondering why this had to be so difficult—there was no denying that she loved the girl like her own daughter, and to have a conversation like this... "I know you're upset about this morning. I know you wanted to hear that we'd be running down the aisle soon. And a part of me wishes I could tell you that. I wish I could tell you that we were making plans, but I'm not going to lie to you."
Sam hesitated. "It's not hard to tell that you guys love each other—it's so obvious, to everyone. Why don't you guys see that?"
Angela swallowed the lump in her throat. "It isn't that we don't see it—I know your dad has feelings for me. And he knows that I have feelings for him. But we're not ready to be in a relationship."
"Does that mean that it won't ever happen? You guys aren't even starting anything!"
"I hope it happens," Angela said truthfully.
"Then why don't you just help it along?" Sam was practically pleading with Angela.
"Because. You're dad isn't ready—he wants to discover himself, and I respect that. When he is, we'll think about it." Angela tried to console Samantha.
"If that doesn't happen...if you two decide not to get married, what happens to me?" Sam felt embarrassed asking the question but it had been weighing on her mind.
"No matter what," Angela said pointedly, "I will always love you, and I'll always want to be in your life, as long as you'll let me."
"But you're going to meet someone," Sam said, her hands gesturing wildly. "You're going to meet someone and fall in love, and maybe have more kids. Dad will leave, you will be happily married, and I'm going to grow old in an apartment in Brooklyn with dad!"
"Can I let you in on a secret?"
Sam nodded. She felt very much like a seven year old again, and she hated the feeling.
"There is no other man for me—no one. I'm just waiting on your dad, and if he changes his mind, and isn't interested in me, then I'll still have Jonathon, and mother, and of course you. I don't need just any man in my life, I need him. And I'm going to take that however I can get it." Angela tried to gauge the girl's expression.
"Won't you be lonely?"
"No, because I'll have my family." Angela smiled. "I love you guys, with all my heart, and someday you are going to realize that you can't just walk away from me. You're stuck with me."
"It's a good deal," Sam said as she leaned in for a hug.
"I think so." Angela said, finally certain that things would work out. "I love you sweet heart." "I love you too."
"What are your intentions for my father?" Sam looked at Angela, desperate for an answer.
"Let's talk," Angela said sweetly, putting her jacket and briefcase on the stand, and walking over to the couch. She suddenly felt like a fifteen year old, being interrogated by an over protective father.
The rest of the conversation was somewhat a blur for Angela, as she tried to grasp on to what the girl was asking her, and it seemed only fair that she try and put together the fragments that were floating in her memory.
*-*-*
"May I talk to you?" Angela leaned around the door frame.
"Dad already talked to me," Sam said, somewhere between bitter and embarrassed.
"Does that mean I can't talk to you too?"
"I guess not," Sam said, her resolve quickly crumbling. She had intended to stay mad at Angela, but she couldn't.
"Good," Angela said, entering the room and pulling the door closed behind her. "About this morning..."
"Dad and I talked already, I told you." She really didn't want to revisit this topic again—especially since it seemed like nothing was ever really going to come of it.
"Yeah, but I think we need to talk again." Angela sat on the bed, beside Sam, and rested her back against the headboard. When Sam didn't join her on the bed, instead leaning against the window pane, Angela tapped the spot on the bed beside her. "Come on, don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you," Sam said a little more hastily than she had intended.
"You seem like you are."
"I'm not," she repeated.
"Okay." Angela sighed, wondering why this had to be so difficult—there was no denying that she loved the girl like her own daughter, and to have a conversation like this... "I know you're upset about this morning. I know you wanted to hear that we'd be running down the aisle soon. And a part of me wishes I could tell you that. I wish I could tell you that we were making plans, but I'm not going to lie to you."
Sam hesitated. "It's not hard to tell that you guys love each other—it's so obvious, to everyone. Why don't you guys see that?"
Angela swallowed the lump in her throat. "It isn't that we don't see it—I know your dad has feelings for me. And he knows that I have feelings for him. But we're not ready to be in a relationship."
"Does that mean that it won't ever happen? You guys aren't even starting anything!"
"I hope it happens," Angela said truthfully.
"Then why don't you just help it along?" Sam was practically pleading with Angela.
"Because. You're dad isn't ready—he wants to discover himself, and I respect that. When he is, we'll think about it." Angela tried to console Samantha.
"If that doesn't happen...if you two decide not to get married, what happens to me?" Sam felt embarrassed asking the question but it had been weighing on her mind.
"No matter what," Angela said pointedly, "I will always love you, and I'll always want to be in your life, as long as you'll let me."
"But you're going to meet someone," Sam said, her hands gesturing wildly. "You're going to meet someone and fall in love, and maybe have more kids. Dad will leave, you will be happily married, and I'm going to grow old in an apartment in Brooklyn with dad!"
"Can I let you in on a secret?"
Sam nodded. She felt very much like a seven year old again, and she hated the feeling.
"There is no other man for me—no one. I'm just waiting on your dad, and if he changes his mind, and isn't interested in me, then I'll still have Jonathon, and mother, and of course you. I don't need just any man in my life, I need him. And I'm going to take that however I can get it." Angela tried to gauge the girl's expression.
"Won't you be lonely?"
"No, because I'll have my family." Angela smiled. "I love you guys, with all my heart, and someday you are going to realize that you can't just walk away from me. You're stuck with me."
"It's a good deal," Sam said as she leaned in for a hug.
"I think so." Angela said, finally certain that things would work out. "I love you sweet heart." "I love you too."