"So, what's going to happen with you and Abby?" Sam asked as she lifted a forkful of spaghetti to her lips and glanced over to Carter.

Sitting in the back of an Italian restaurant in downtown Chicago, Sam and Carter were enjoying each other's company and the platefuls of spaghetti dishes in front of them. Carter was dressed casually in a blue tee, jeans and black leather loafers. His hair was its usual flat self and he looked as though he hadn't shaved in a good few days.

Shrugging and glancing away from Sam, he reached out and lifted his glass of water and sipped from it, his eyes turned down to the plate in front of him.

"Nothing."

Sam looked up, a loose curl falling in front of her face and she tucked it away with her free hand, and frowned.

She too was dressed casually: a light pink tee, light jeans and a pair of sandals that hadn't seen the light since Ohio. Her hair was unruly and curly, held haphazardly by a clasp that was not doing its job. Make-up-less and carefree, John tried to think of a time when she had looked more naturally beautiful.

"Why not?" She asked after swallowing her food and wiping her mouth.

He shrugged again and leaned his elbows on the tabletop, and grabbed a slice of garlic bread from Sam's plate.

"I don't really know, actually," he muttered and then shook his head. "Actually, that's a lie. She's still not over Luka."

Sam flinched and looked away and John immediately regretted his words. He knew that the subject of Abby and Luka was still a shaky one with Sam – and with Luka and Abby. He also knew that Sam secretly appreciated John telling her how Abby was feeling because, despite it being awkward for her to hear it from him, it was unbearable for her to hear it from Abby.

"I think it's just too soon, or too close to home – I'm not really sure. I just know that she doesn't want to pursue it any further."

Sam nodded and sipped her coke. A long silence elapsed between them, punctuated only by the sound of forks against plates and glasses clinking off the table.

"So, you're back at work tomorrow?" John asked eventually as he watched Sam push a slice of garlic bread around her plate in an effort to pick up some sauce.

"Yep," she mumbled unenthusiastically and stuffed the corner of the slice into her mouth, rolling her eyes in his direction as she did so. She chomped impatiently and John laughed. He loved this playful, youthful side of her. He just hoped Luka realised how lucky he was. "Luka's a little less than impressed, though."

John pursed his lips and looked down, nodding his head.

"Yeah, he told me." He looked up to her once again and raised his eyebrow. "You know where I stand on the matter. I think you should tell him. He thinks you want to break up with him, for crying out loud. The guy is going crazy, he doesn't know whether he's coming or going."

Sam raised her eyebrow back at him. Trust it to be John who put her in her place with no qualms.

"What do you mean?" She asked innocently, knowing exactly what he meant.

She knew that she had been blowing hot and cold with Luka. One minute she was all over him, the next she was making excuses so she didn't need to be in his company. She felt horrible, hypocritical – but she also felt it was the only thing she could do.

"You have to tell him how you're feeling Sam otherwise he's just going to keep pulling away from you," John stressed. "You may not realise it right now but you're hurting him and you're hurting yourself by being, basically, a bitch to him."

Sam sat back and guffawed. She hadn't expected him to say that to her. He knew why she was acting the way she was and this was like a stab in the back.

"I can't believe you just said that to me," she muttered, shaking her head in disgust.

How dare he?

"You know I'm right."

"Whether I know that or not isn't the point, you shouldn't be saying it."

"But it would be all right if Susan or Abby said it to you? Just because I'm a guy I'm not allowed to point out the obvious?"

Sam snapped her head up to him and tried to bite back the laughter that was erupting within her. She knew he was right and she knew she had over-reacted. Hell, she had called herself much worse than that. She just hated it being pointed out to her by someone else.

"Ugh… I know you're right, I know. I just… I don't know how to talk to him," she muttered and ran her thumb over the rim of her glass.

John reached out and covered her hand with his, playing with her fingers.

"You have to try."

She looked up to him, then to their entwined fingers and nodded.

"I know…"

Across the street, hidden in the shadow of a balcony from the building overhead, he watched them.

TBC