Chapter 3

Three hours were more than I needed, but I wanted to give Sam his space and let him feel comfortable enough to clean up and settle in. After taking care of everything on my list, I made a quick side trip for a few extra supplies. As I left the grocery store, I bit my bottom lip and wished I'd consulted with Sam before buying anything, but I thought that it should be okay. After all, this was stuff he ate on the show, so how could I go wrong? Everything went into my trunk and I slammed it shut, stowing away my purchases and my doubts in the tiny space.

At the apartment building, I parked and opened the trunk, and I glanced up at my windows. Would I find Sam waiting for me, or would he be gone? A chill prickled my skin despite the balmy breeze, and I scanned the parking lot for anyone who might look like a Russian commando, or at least Russian. I grabbed the bags and the twelve pack of beer, closed the trunk, and turned smack dab into the chest of a tall, muscular man dressed in gray fatigue pants and a t-shirt. His sour expression made him look like he needed to get out and have some fun once in awhile.

"Hi," I said, my voice in a forced calm. "Can I help you?"

Without fanfare, the man held up a picture of Sam and asked, "You know dis man?"

I grinned and said, "Yeah, he's that guy on Burn Notice. I love that show." I tilted my head up and gave him a full gleaming grin.

The Russian commando's face turned even grimmer. I didn't think that was even possible. "Is not actor. His name is Sam Axe."

"Sam Ex?" My brow furrowed.

He tried to pronounce it again, with no better results, and it only frustrated him. "Ex. Sam Ex."

"Careful honey, don't hurt yourself."

He shook his head. "Never mind. If you see, you not hide him. He is trouble, believe me."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some ice cream melting here." I slipped around him and headed for the entrance, and I could feel his eyes watching me. I tripped on a crack and the plastic bag holding the detergent almost dropped and exploded on the pavement, but I caught it before I had a massive mess on my hands. I held it tighter and scurried up to the door.

"Hi, Nina," the male voice with a slight nasal tone greeted me along with an open door. Why couldn't I just go do my thing and get to my apartment without commandos and geeks bothering me? My anxiety ramped up as I thought of Sam waiting. Would he be worried? That thought rattled me, and I bobbled the bags as Gary stepped back to let me inside.

"Hi, Gary," I responded and slid through the opening with my heavy load.

"Oh, hey, let me get some of that for you." The door thudded closed, locking before the Russian could follow me. I felt my load lighten as Gary took the bags in my right hand. "Wow, you've got beer. Havin' a party?"

I was afraid to answer, because if I said no, Gary would continue to grill me about why I had a pack of beer considering that I didn't drink the stuff. If I said yes, he would ask to be invited. Gary wasn't a bad guy. He was just a little annoying, a nerdy social misfit. Not to mention he was about twenty years younger than me and had somehow, because I was nice and engaged him in conversation a few times, latched onto me as a friend.

"I have a guest over," I replied, thankful that I'd come up with a happy medium on the fly. "A guy friend."

"Oh." Gary nodded and gripped the plastic bags tighter. "I can take these for you, Nina."

I wanted to scream. Between the Russian lurking in the parking lot and the Velcro geek hovering in the lobby, I couldn't wait to get back to my apartment and be alone with Sam. That is, if he didn't take off while I was gone. I was afraid he might, and until I saw him there with my own eyes I wouldn't stop worrying. If he was gone, it meant that I'd simply gone around the bend for some reason, that Sam had never been there and it was all in my head. I couldn't deal with that possibility.

"You know, that's really sweet, but I'm good."

Gary already had the elevator call button pushed and it glowed a faded orangey yellow. A ding announced the car's arrival, and as soon as the doors opened I stepped inside. Gary followed me with my bags. It was a short, quick ride to the third floor, and we soon stood outside my apartment. I set down my bags and the beer, unlocked the door, and tucked my keys into my purse before picking up my load and taking the bags from Gary.

He tried to keep hold of them, saying, "It's okay, Neen, I got it."

I detested that shortening of my name, but I could never tell Gary. First of all, it wouldn't make any difference. Second, I felt that correcting him would hurt his feelings, and I didn't want to do that to him. So I endured it and rolled my eyes, took the bags, and bid him a good day before opening the door and kicking it shut behind me. It was rude, but some lines could not be crossed. My threshold was one of them.

I didn't expect to be grabbed and have a gun shoved in my face. Fear sucked the breath from my lungs as Sam's hand pushed me against the wall hard enough to see a few stars. When I was able to see straight again, I noted his wide eyes and slack mouth of contrition as he relaxed and backed away from me.

"I'm sorry, Nina." He put the safety back on and tucked the gun into his waistband.

"What was that all about," I asked.

"You were gone awhile. I wasn't sure if you were coming back, or if something happened to you." He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed that it had been washed. I could smell my shampoo from where I stood. "Then the door unlocked and nobody came in at first, so I, uh, was on my guard. Sorry."

"You're forgiven. I guess caginess is a hazard of your lifestyle, huh?" I reached down to pick up some of the bags, and this time, when Sam helped, I didn't mind.

He chuckled as he reached around me and locked the door. "Definitely. Again, I'm sorry." He bent at the waist to grab the last straggling bag, and his head was inches from my nose. Damn, he smelled good. If he was a figment of my imagination, I had to say my brain was pretty good at conjuring up fantasies!

If my hands hadn't been full, I would have caressed his shoulder when I spoke. "Don't worry about it. I see you took advantage of my being gone." I nodded at him, my eyes roaming over his clean khakis and t-shirt.

Sam grinned and said, "Yeah. I hope you don't mind that my shirt is hanging in your bathroom. I wash 'em in a gentle cycle, but they never go in the dryer. It ruins the silk."

I nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I have a couple of blouses like that."

Sam and I entered the kitchen where we placed the bags on the table. The beer he set down with near reverence and the smile on his face told me that I'd made a good choice. "I know nothing about beer," I explained. "And the stuff you supposedly drink on the show doesn't exist, so I had to take a guess."

"You guessed right. Thank you," he said as he eyed the pack before moving onto the bags. "You must be expecting me to stay awhile." He rooted around in the flat bag and came up with a couple of Hawaiian shirts. "Nina, this is too much."

"If you're going to stay for a few days, you can't wear the same shirt over and over," I replied with a light tone, chuckling away my sense of embarrassment. I'd never gone shopping for men's clothes, not even for my father, and I was guessing at the sizes. "If they don't fit, I can take them back and get the right size. Same for the pants."

After a quick glance at the label on the pants, he said, "Nope, they should fit." He held a shirt up, unfastened the buttons and slipped into it. With the buttons done, he shrugged his shoulders to get it to lay right, and then he smiled. "It fits great. Thanks, Nina." He kissed my cheek and slipped past me. I heard him in the bathroom checking his new shirt in the mirror, and I smiled at his muffled sounds of delight.

I gave Sam an empty drawer in my dresser and the shelf above the toilet for his things, and I let him figure out how he wanted to organize them while I finished putting away the groceries. Before the last item was in the cupboard, I heard the television and instantly recognized from the dialogue that he'd been watching a fourth season episode of Burn Notice.

I came into the room and Sam was sitting on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, a beer in his hand and a grateful smile just for me. I wondered how he snuck past me to get it, but I didn't ask because I was afraid he would tell me that I wasn't observant and that would get me into trouble someday. "Hope you don't mind, I was watching a few episodes while you were gone. I just picked them randomly from each season." He looked at me and his eyes roved to the empty space on the couch next to him. "Have a seat, and we can watch together."

Didn't Sam realize how tempting it would be to sit close to him, to slide an arm around his waist and nestle into his shoulder as we watched the show? He was driving me insane with the thought. I just had to keep remembering that he's not real, at least not in the sense of being of this world. But it was pretty hard to convince myself of that when he sat a few feet away looking so attractive in his new blue shirt with white semi-transparent flowers on it. My dad always liked to wear Hawaiian shirts, but he never looked even close to hot like Sam Axe.

I stifled a snort of laughter, and Sam glanced at me. "What's funny?"

"It's nothing. I ran into one of those Russian guys in the parking lot, and he asked if I knew Sam Ex." I snickered.

"The Russian guys are staking out the place?" Sam shot to his feet and headed for the window, but he stayed far enough away to not be seen by anyone outside. "Dammit, there's one across the street. This is not good, not good at all."

"I played dumb. When the guy flashed a picture of you, I told him I thought it was the actor who plays you on Burn Notice," I said. Sam passed me, and I held him back from pacing with a gentle hand on his arm. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay. They're still hanging around, which means they know I'm here somewhere and they're not gonna stop looking for a way to flush me out." He let out a breath and took a long swig of his beer that he'd virtually forgotten during his momentary panic. His eyes locked onto mine, full of regret. I had the feeling that he really wanted to stay and get to know me, but he was going to run. "I can't stay here, Nina. I don't want to put you in danger."

"Sam, I… I think you're making a big mistake. Maybe we can work out something, a way to throw them off so they leave. You guys have done it before."

"When? How do you know…." He trailed off and nodded. "Yeah, that's right. The TV show." He stared at the frozen image of himself on the screen, let out another breath and his entire body seemed to vibrate with nervousness. "I really would like to stick around and see what you've seen on this show. I wanna know how much of it is true." He smirked for a moment before frowning. "But right now I don't have that luxury. I gotta go."

"No!" I stepped in front of him and grasped his arms.

Sam did the same to me, and I felt the power of his fingers pressing into my flesh. "Nina, I can't stay. I'm sorry. You've been great, but I can't do this to you."

I wanted to cry, scream, beg, do anything to make him stay. Unfortunately, I would only be making myself into a big fool and Sam would be even more adamant about leaving if he thought I was a crazy lady. I loosened my grip and threw my arms around his shoulders to hold him tight. He circled my waist with his arms and accepted the token of my affection.

"Be careful out there, Sam," I said into his shoulder, which I'd managed to make wet with my tears. "You know where I am, so if things cool down, you can come back."

He sighed, and holding me by the arms he pushed me away so he could see my face. The gratefulness in his expression made me tingle, but the sadness in his eyes clashed with my joy. "I'm sorry, Nina. If it's any comfort, as far as safe houses go, this was one of the nicest I've been in." His smile was tender and full of regret. "But once it's been found out, it's not safe anymore." He pulled me into his embrace and I took as much as I could, braving a kiss that landed on his earlobe as he parted us. His eyes gravitated to my lips, and with even more regret he pressed his lips to mine, but only for a couple seconds. It was enough to burn into my memory. I would never forget it.

"I've gotta go," he whispered. "Thank you for everything, Nina. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"If you could tell the network to bring back Burn Notice for a few seasons, or convince them to do a spinoff starring you, that would be more than enough," I replied with a smile. I knew he had no power to do such a thing, but just the thought of it lifted my mood. After all, if I could imagine Sam Axe in my living room kissing me, maybe anything was possible.

Sam released me and turned toward the door, but he stopped. Everything seemed to run in slow motion as he turned back to me and shouted, "Nina, look out!" His arm came around my back and he pulled me down onto the couch, covering my body with his at the same moment that the picture window exploded and shattered into a million pieces. Automatic weapons fired bullets over our heads, and in a gap between Sam's arm and his torso I saw the Russian guy had rappelled through the window. He was shooting as he got his footing.

While he shielded me, Sam pulled out his gun and fired at the Russian. He hit him solidly in the chest with two quick rounds, and he went down. I felt myself rising, but it wasn't under my own power. Sam pulled me off the couch, wrapped his right arm around my waist, and held his gun in his left hand as he swept the area. No one else came through the window.

As the smoke cleared, I shook. My voice rattled out of me as I asked, "Is he dead?"

"I don't know." Sam released me and checked on the guy bleeding on my carpet. Mrs. Yarmush was going to be furious! I groaned deep inside, wondering how this spiraled out of control.

Before I could ponder it, Sam barked at me. "Nina! Come on!"

"Huh? What?"

He reached out for my hand and steered me toward the bathroom. "Grab some stuff. We're getting out of here now."