Title: Privilege

Author: NightMage

Rating: maybe PG13, to be safe.

Summary: The team gets very, very frustrated with doctor-patient privilege! And Sam deals with a problem of her own. My very first M/S fic.

NOTES:

Thanx to the readers, thanx to the reviewers, thanx to chele, luv you guys!

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6
YOUNG PEOPLE THESE DAYS

Here she came again, coming out of the building... with him again! Damn! Who was that, anyway?

They were talking. This time he was close enough to hear.

"You have no idea who's sending them all." Ah! They were talking about him! Well, that was a slap in his face, ha!

"No."

"What about that guy who delivered them, um, Andrew – he sees you everyday, and obviously he knows where you work. You know, office crush – "

"It's no office crush, Martin."

"What?"

"Look, I noticed while I was waiting for you to finish up. It was… odd."

"What, Sam."

"The, uh, the first one came without a note, but the second one..." She hesitated, then leaned over and whispered something in his – Martin's – ear. He turned white.

"God, Samantha, you have to tell someone!"

"I just did."

"Sam, I'm serious."

"So am I," she said, Samantha said, what a pretty name. "I'm on it, okay? If something besides big flowers and weird notes happens, I'll deal. Let's go."

Big? Weird? Was that all she could – oh, God, they were heading towards him.

-----------------------------------------------------

Martin could tell Sam wanted to drop the subject, so he did, but he was still worried. If he'd got a note like that... but, well, she said she was handling it, so he would let her get on with it. Still, he did not want a creep like that after Samantha. He was honored that she trusted him enough to tell him, but... He was so preoccupied that he bumped into some guy smoking outside the building. That brought him back to reality. Focus, he told himself.

-----------------------------------------------------

Sam's cell phone rang as she got into the passenger seat of Martin's car. She looked at the name on the display; it was Jack. She flipped the phone open. "Yeah."

"Sam, we just got a call from an elderly neighbor of the Sanfords', a Mrs. Kambers. House is on the corner next to the phone booth. She claims to have heard arguing outside her apartment the day Carolynn disappeared. I'm going to reroute her call to you."

"Okay, put her on," Sam said, but Jack was already doing so. Samantha sighed and waited.

"Hello?" the lady's voice was creaky, but strong.

"Hi, Mrs. Kambers? This is Special Agent Spade from the FBI."

"Oh, hello there, Deary. Are you the one that nice man said I was to talk to?"

Samantha made a face at Martin. "Yes, can you tell me what you heard outside your window on June 2nd?"

"Well, certainly, Deary. See, I've always loved flowers…"

Mrs. Kambers is trimming the stems of some petunias in her kitchen. She is adding them to a vase of flowers on the counter when a girl's shout comes from outside the open window: "What!" Another voice begins mumbling. Mrs. Kambers frowns – children are so loud these days – and goes to the window. Well, she never can miss a good gossip.

There are two girls on the street. The dark-haired one is hunched over and crying. The blonde one is pacing, stamping up and down the sidewalk, and screaming. She's a mess. Mrs. Kambers can read the signs: that girl is on something illegal.

"How could you!" The blonde screams. "How the hell could you do that to me!" The brunette, still crying, turns and runs. "I'm sorry!" she yells, before she turns the corner and is out of sight. The blonde stops pacing and suddenly stands very still. Mrs. Kambers shakes her head and leaves the window. What was wrong with young people these days? Besides, the petunias are hiding the daisies. She goes back to her flower arrangement.

About a half an hour later, Mrs. Kambers returns to the window. The blonde is gone. The brunette, though, is standing in the phone booth. She has left the door open. The girl appears to be crying still, and she's hunched over the phone. Mrs. Kambers can hear snatches of the conversation – she prides herself on retaining her good hearing at 76 years of age. "I need to talk to you... No it can't wait...Lynn is going to kill me...She hates me already... It was a mistake! I don't know what to do ... Sorry..." The girl lowers her voice and whispers into the phone. About three minutes later, she hangs up and walks away. Mrs. Kambers drops the curtain.

"Alright, thank you, Mrs. Kambers. Yeah. Okay. Bye." Samantha closed her cell phone and turned to Martin. "Change of plans. Head back to Carolynn's apartment building. I'll explain on the way."

-----------------------------------------------------