Author's Notes: This is was written as a fanfic anniversary gift to Velvetwhip. To my readers, sorry about the absence for a while. But I have been busy and will be updating old fics as well as posting some new ones. I'm going to be overhauling my website in a couple weeks, adding all my stories with artwork, as well as posting new wallpapers. Portrait and Ravishment should be updated in the next few days.

A Single Rose

Tom walked slowly through the florist shop trying to settle on a bouquet. Today was his fourth anniversary and he didn't want to leave empty handed. Later he could take Sam out to dinner and they could leave Chloe at his parent's. Daisies seemed rather juvenile. Finally he settled on a bouquet of sweet peas and peonies. Roses were the obvious choice, but thanks to Jack, they were out.

Jack, Tom thought angrily, after he made his purchase and headed home. Ever since Sam had discovered his case and he'd begun his obsession, she spent almost every moment of her life focused on Jack. Sam had never been very passionate and since Jack came along she seemed even more distant. Maybe he should try romancing her and see if they couldn't get their marriage on track. Thinking of the woman he kept on the side, Tom felt a little guilty. If he gave her up and focused on Sam, maybe things could get better between them.

Pulling up in front of his house, Tom picked up the flowers. Going through the complex locks and security system, he tried to push his annoyance aside. It was necessary to keep Jack out of their home. Walking into the kitchen Tom put the flowers in a vase and sat them on the counter. Usually Sam greeted him so he assumed she wasn't home. Looking at the clock he decided to change clothes so he would be ready to take her to dinner when she got home.

Going towards the bedroom, Tom was about to walk in when a soft noise caught his attention. From the doorway, he saw the bed reflected in the mirror and stared in shock. On the bed, Sam was naked, her head was thrown back and her hand was moving between her legs. In four years of marriage he'd seldom seen his wife climax; but then he'd never seen her touching herself either. Maybe he should let her finish, then make love to her and talk to her. He felt like a failure when no matter what he tried she wouldn't respond to him. Tom had wondered if she was frigid, but seeing the display in the mirror, he felt hope.

Often when they made love, Sam had trouble getting wet and they had to resort to artificial lubricant. Continuing to watch in the mirror, Tom was mesmerized as he took in the sight of his wife's very moist and swollen sex. Even at the edge of the room, he could hear the slick sound of Sam's fingers sliding through her wetness. Tom's breath quickened and his own arousal pressed against zipper. The intimate side of their marriage had never lived up to his expectations, but he'd never stopped hoping. Despite the lack of passion on her part, Tom loved Sam and longed for her to respond to him.

Sam's breathing was fast and Tom knew she was close when she moaned, "Jack."

Jack? He must have misheard her, Tom decided. Then he noticed the rose on the pillow by her face.

"Oh God," Sam whimpered nuzzling her face against the blossom. "Jack. Oh God, Jack!"

This time there was no mistaking it, Tom realized as the full impact of the scene before him struck. Sam was saying Jack's name. The most aroused he'd ever seen his wife and not only wasn't she thinking of him, she was thinking of Jack. It was a nightmare, he would open his eyes and wake up and Sam would be sleeping peacefully beside him, Tom wished vainly. Unable to move, he continued to watch as Sam writhed on the bed.

"Jack!" Sam cried out in a near sob as she trembled with pleasure.

After her climax, Tom expected her to stop and he tried to think of what to do or say. His plans of making love to her, ended along with his erection when he knew she was indeed saying Jack's name. But Sam didn't stop. For a moment she paused to catch her breath and kissed the rose, then began to touch herself again. To Tom's dismay, his wife who didn't respond to his touch, was very responsive to her own as she continued murmuring the last name that should have ever escaped her lips at a moment like that.

"Jack," Sam panted as she continued.

As she brought herself off a second time, Sam screamed Jack's name. When she still didn't stop her intimate caress and brought the crimson blossom between her thighs, Tom swallowed bitterly, turned away and closed the bedroom door quietly. Numb with pain, he walked away from the bedroom and towards the living room. He stood and stared without seeing as he tried to absorb what he'd just witnessed. The phone rang and mechanically, Tom answered.

"Hello?" he said in a flat voice.

"Tom! Am I glad you're home," Bailey Malone's voice exclaimed on the other end. "I'm calling to check on Sam."

"Check on Sam," Tom repeated dully.

Bailey inquired, "How's she holding up? Is she still upset?"

Uncertain how to respond, Tom was reprieved from answering as Bailey growled, "If I ever get my hands on Jack. The nerve of the guy sending Sam a rose on your anniversary."

"A rose," Tom murmured, his eyes wandering to the sweet peas and peonies he'd bought.

"Poor Sam, she was so upset she accidentally took it with her. But she realized what she'd done and came back a while later with it for forensics," Bailey confided.

"Poor Sam," Tom echoed dispassionately. Took it with her and brought it back? She bought it from the florist that was near her office, he was positive. Jack's rose was the one in the bedroom.

"Well don't you worry, Tom," the voice on the other end of the phone assured him. "Jack will never get to Sam."

He already has, Tom thought with bitter irony.

"I'll let you get back to Sam. I'll arrange for extra security, Jack won't be able to force his way into your house," Bailey promised and hung up.

Jack wouldn't have to force his way into their house, because Sam had invited him in already, the unwelcome realization rose up in his mind and lingered. Down the hallway he heard a muffled cry of pleasure and knew a single rose from another had witnessed greater passion in his wife than he ever had.

"Happy Anniversary, Sam," Tom whispered hollowly.

Samantha, a voice in the back of his mind corrected.

Samantha, Tom silently amended. Although he would never say anything to her, Tom knew Jack had already won. Sitting down to wait for his wife, Tom stared at the sweet peas and peonies which looked back mockingly.