"So, how are things with you and Luka?"
Sam heaved the last gargantuan box into the hallway of her new apartment from the corridor outside. Straining against the weight, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, turned to Abby and shrugged, letting go of the box and stumbled backwards slightly.
"The same as always really."
It was still undeniably awkward for Sam to talk to Abby about Luka and no matter how many times they'd had the conversations, it never got any less uncomfortable. Glancing quickly at her friend, Sam turned back to the box and dragged it further into the lounge. Her multitude of boxes had joined Luka's still unpacked boxes in his storage block on the outskirts of the city – the police had eventually released her apartment and its' contents after countless forensic tests, just to make sure it iwas /i actually Steve that had attacked her and not Luka. She had almost had to fight Luka for the papers and PIN number for the little garage like hole the night before as he resolutely refused to help her shift her belongings.
He had barely spoken to her for the past week – since he had unceremoniously stomped his way up the stairs to the bathroom and banged the door after discovering that Sam had been in talks with Kerry about getting her job at County back. She understood his frustrations: she knew she would be just as angry with him if he had did the same with her but she really didn't think it warranted the cold shoulder for four days. She had asked him if he wanted to go out for dinner on his solitary night off the day before and he had shaken his head and flipped the page in his book, his eyes never leaving the text before him.
Shaking her head in frustration, Sam let go of the box and snapped up straight.
"I need a drink."
Abby looked up over the edge of the haphazard, beige sofa and raised her eyebrow, looking towards the bare kitchen. "You ihave /i drink? Sam, you don't even have a refrigerator plugged in yet."
Sam looked towards the dull, warm stainless steel refrigerator and felt an embarassed smile creep across her features. By the time she turned back to Abby, she was grinning inanely and Abby was barely refraining from laughing.
"Bar?"
Abby stood and grabbed her short jacket that she had tossed over the back of the sofa and walked out of the door, waiting for Sam to follow.
--
Shifting on the hard plastic of the upturned milk crate, he felt his butt grate off the frayed edge and he stood up abruptly, surrendering his attempts to get comfortable. He looked up at the window and saw that it was now dark and empty, his momentary distraction causing him to lose sight of her. Glancing fervently at the hallway windows, he still saw no silhouette: neither hers nor the attractive, older woman she was with; Abbyif he remembered correctly.
He had to admit, she was a rather attractive woman and if she happened to get up in his plans for Sam well…
Grinning sadistically and marvelling at his own lurid fantasies, he almost missed their exit from the building but her distinctive, shrill voice reverberated off the glass and penetrated his clouded mind and he snapped back to reality.
Realising that they were moving away from the apartment building, he frowned as he glanced at the old fake canvas Fossil watch noting the lateness of the evening and wondered where his leading ladies were off to.
Waiting the customary thirty seconds, he gripped his thin, brightly coloured parka tighter around him and set off down the opposite side of the street, his head bent his eyes upturned watching as Sam and Abby laughed gaily not even fifty feet ahead of him.
They had no idea he was there.