101 Reasons Not To
A/N: Way too short for my liking, but oh well. I guess this one actually comes before the other one, which was very clever of me (NOT)! But hey, I'm writing a sequel at the moment, so this'll do until then, right? Based after the first episode of Season 4. It's based around Samantha; I just find it easier to write as her. Also very angsty and fluffy-ish all at the same time. Yes, I'm weird. Anywho, hope you like. And huge thanks for all the reviews on the last one, I was shocked!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters or the show. Amen.
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She sat alone at her computer, hands typing away at top speed, junk food piled up on one side of her. He'd been a part of her so long; she'd started to become him without even noticing. It was in his absence that she found herself spending long nights alone in front of the computer screen, typing up details that weren't important, actually offering to do paperwork. It kept her busy. Just another reason for not going to see him. There were so many of those, she'd lost track. They'd become her safety blanket, the thing she hid behind. Truth was, she wanted to see him more than anything in the world.
Sighing, Samantha leant back in her chair. Her eyes were straining to see the black letters forming on the screen, and her fingertips hurt – she had to stop. Saving her work, she sat still, watching the FBI screensaver bouncing around the black screen. It wasn't very comforting. Too formal. It just reminded her more and more of him, in his suits and ties, that boyish smile on his face, that look in his blue eyes… She had to stop that too! He'd somehow busted into her dreams, which had resulted in a complete stop of sleeping, and now he was stopping her concentration too. As if he hadn't been doing that long enough.
It had long since occurred to her that she was being selfish. Putting her feelings before his, purely because she knew if she went to see him, she'd fall apart and it'd seem like she was desperate. Maybe she was. Since he'd broken up with her, all she'd done was think about him. Her brain was constantly processing the same thing, mentally chanting his name over and over until she'd answer the phone with a 'Martin?' even though she knew it wouldn't be him. It drove her mad. Maybe she was that too. Desperately mad. Why hadn't someone else noticed this and stopped it before it was too late? Maybe she was just too good at covering her feelings up.
Samantha sighed again.
Bringing herself to her feet, she reached for her coat, slipping it on before grabbing her purse from under the desk.
Outside it was bitterly cold, reminding her of the time she and Martin had been doing surveillance in a car, in the snow. She hadn't stopped complaining. So much had changed since then, she certainly couldn't deny that. Her thoughts took a back-seat for a moment as Sam unlocked her car and got in. It was only as she approached the car-lot of the hospital that she realized what she was doing.
"This isn't right, I shouldn't be doing this," She told herself, but all her reasons for not doing it had somehow been erased from her brain.
Her heels clicked loudly on the bleached flooring of the hospital. She considered taking them off, the sound echoing garishly in her ears as she remembered her way to Martin's room. It had been weeks ago that she saw him, sat with him while he slept, but her feet knew the way. Her eyes instantly knew the number on the door as she pushed it open. The expression on her face was a mixture of nerves and excitement – like a child who was going on holiday for the first time.
She walked in, scanned the room silently. Crisp white sheets on the bed, sunshine yellow flowers in a bright green vase on the windowsill and a pile of folded clothes on the side cabinet. The smile on her face soon faded as she realized the 102nd reason for not going to see Martin.
He wasn't there.
THE END