A/N: Inspired by a conversation about my workplace frustrations... go figure.
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies, I don't own anything, not even the triscuts.
Samantha stood in the middle of her kitchen, staring at Martin, who was staring back at her. Although some of Martin's words still hurt, she had to admit that their current situation was a bit amusing, not that she'd ever let that show on her face.
Nor would Martin. However, his eyes had this habit of being unable to lie, and were sparkling with laughter. Samantha diverted her eyes and looked at the floor. Remains of triscuts carpeted the linoleum, and unless she was mistaken, there was some crumbs trapped inside her shoe.
The ends of her mouth curled upwards, and when she looked up, Martin was doing the same. They started laughing for a few minutes, before sobering up.
"Hey, I'm uh, I'm-." Samantha began, but Martin cut her off.
"No, don't apologize." He said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have questioned you. I'm sorry."
"Martin, you had every right to." Samantha admitted. Martin stared at her for a moment, before reaching across the small room and pulling her towards him. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and hugged her tightly.
"I love you Sam." He whispered. She smiled.
"I love you too... Marty." She said, her smile turning to a conspiratorial grin. He pulled her away, and looked into her eyes. He smiled and pulled her close again.