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. Please RR!
NOTES:
Huh… I've got nothing to say. Thanx to everyone, as always… that's about it.
DEDICATIONS:
To Lei, I dedicate the stalker's NY Yankees cap.
To Michele, I dedicate the writing in the stalker's note... that sounds bad. But now, Chele, you can stop bugging me for not telling you what the last note said, cause I revealed this one.
Chapter 14
PEEK-A-BOO
Martin hung up the phone in the lobby of the apartment building, and turned back to Samantha. Sam was leaning against the wall, putting all of her weight on her good foot. "Okay, let's get you into your apartment."
-----------------------------------------------------Sam nodded and gingerly pushed away from the wall. Martin put his arm around her, and the two began to hobble down the hallway.
Neither of them noticed the blonde man in the Yankees cap sitting in the corner, watching them over yesterday's paper.
Martin took the room key from Sam and opened the door to her apartment. The first thing he noticed was that it was sparse. Impersonal. It didn't have the lived-in feeling he had expected. The second thing he noticed was the white envelope on the coffee table.
"Martin?" Sam had seen it, too. She was staring at it, in fact.
Martin, finally noticing the open window, felt a shiver go down his spine. "Stay here a minute." He pulled out his gun. Warily, he checked first the kitchen area, then the bedroom, and finally the bathroom. "All clear." He went to close the window as Sam limped over to the couch and sat down. She waited for him to join her before picking up the envelope with a trembling hand. Martin noticed with concern that she was still very shaken up from the incident on the road, and put his arm around her again, pulling her close, trying to reassure her. She glanced at him briefly before pulling out the carefully typed note.
Peek-a-boo. I see you.
Give up, bitch.
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Samantha froze. She wanted to be strong, she wanted not to care, but it was too much too soon. First the flowers, then her car, then that 'accident', now this. Oh God, her ankle throbbed. A headache was building and her temple pounded. What was she supposed to do? The bastard had been in her apartment. He knew where she worked, he knew where she lived. He knew what car she drove, what car Martin drove. And she didn't have any idea as to who he was.
Gently, Martin put his arm around her. She flinched, then leaned against him.
She wanted to be out there with the team. She wanted to find Carolynn Casper, and tell her she knew how it felt to want to quit. She wanted to tell her it was okay to be upset and scared and lonely, okay to need help. Okay to let someone hold you up. Okay to hate your best friend for a while.
Okay to hate your stalker. Oh God, she was having a break down. Stop before you start crying. Hold it together, Sam, get a grip. Her ankle hurt like hell. She was losing it. Someone is trying to kill me.
Slowly, softly, Martin kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, Sam. It'll be okay."
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A minute later, they both flinched as the phone rang.
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