(I own nothing. A thank you to StillProfiling and ChavaAyanna for reviewing this story! One more chapter to go after this one.)
MAKE A CONNECTION
Bailey leaned his head on the headrest and gazed at the passing scenery, not focusing on anything, but instead, thinking of the weekend ahead. Sam had convinced him to spend the weekend at her place with her and Chloe. "I'm not leaving you alone again," is what she'd said, with a twinkle in her eye. He'd taken only a little persuading, because the truth of the matter was, he didn't want to spend the weekend alone, especially now that he'd decided to keep an open mind. Staying at home might have him second-guessing himself again.
And so he was sitting in the passenger's seat, with Sam driving them to her home in her car. She would drive him home to Atlanta on Sunday. Sam and Chloe were living twenty miles north of Angel's family farm. He'd wondered to her why they hadn't moved to Virginia, closer to Chloe's grandparents and their earlier home. She'd answered that because of the somewhat contentious relationship she had with Tom's parents, she hadn't wanted to relocate them there for the fractious period during which she and her daughter were rebuilding their bond. He wondered if the bond had been repaired.
He hazarded a look at Sam, wondering if she'd welcome his enquiry. "How are things between you and Chloe? Really?"
She averted her eyes off the road, looking surprised. "Why do you ask?"
He searched her face. "I know I asked before, but I just wanted to ask again. Make sure that you didn't leave anything out."
She smiled to herself. The first time he asked, she'd had to fight the inclination to sugarcoat the truth about the length of time it'd taken for her and Chloe to regain their closeness. In the end, she'd opted for the truth. She soothed his concerns. "I didn't shelter you from the truth, but I have to admit, I was tempted for a while. It was tough for a long time, but we're in the clear now. Otherwise, she wouldn't have let me come back to the VCTF."
She gave him a sideways glance. "That satisfy your need to know?" He nodded, then turned again to look at the side of the road. They drove on in contented silence.
Sam and Chloe's home was situated in a sparsely populated neighborhood. Passing a big out building on the way, they pulled up to a secluded house at the end of a long driveway. Verdant trees surrounded the house, and a few metal works of art by Angel adorned the lawn stretching out to the left of the house. The two-storey house itself was a handsome prospect of grey brick, black roof and white windows.
Sam killed the ignition and they got out of the vehicle, grabbed their bags and headed for the front door. As they entered the house, Sam shouted out: "Hello! We're home!" They could hear running foot steps above them, and in a moment Chloe emerged at the top of the stairs, then quick-stepped them down. "Hi Mom, hi Uncle Bailey!" The excited girl jumped to Bailey's neck for a hug. "It's so great that you came for a visit."
Touched by Chloe's enthusiasm, Bailey croaked out: "It's good to see you, sweetheart."
He set her on the ground. The girl started speaking quickly. "We're going to have so much fun this weekend. We'll go to the stables and the fair and we could also..." Sam cut off her baby girl's rambling.
"Sweetie, let Uncle Bailey catch his breath. Why don't you go get Angel?"
Chloe agreed and dashed off outside. At his confused look, Sam explained: "She's working in the out building. It doubles as a garage and a studio."
Bailey gazed after the jogging girl. "She's grown so much. I mean, I knew she would, but still." He suddenly felt a slight twinge of loss; he'd missed out on a year of Chloe's childhood. Much like with his own girls. But there, he'd missed many years – one of his greatest regrets.
Sam guessed his train of thought. She mourned for his sake and felt ashamed of her own actions, which had prevented him from participating in her daughter's life. "She's missed you." He smiled at her, to thank her for her words.
They would get into this issue, but not now. "Come on, let me show you the house."
The sunny kitchen was situated to the left of the stairs, with windows looking to the front of the house. From the kitchen there was an open space leading to the living room and the patio. Right to the living room, there was a den and a spare bedroom with a small en suite bathroom, hidden beneath the stairs. Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a big bathroom.
The décor was bright, with lots of reds to offset the light grey walls. Wall space was taken up by photography, most of it pictures Sam had taken herself. Black and white photos of landscapes, architectural details and, to his surprise, people. She'd hung up portraits of the usual suspects, that is, of Chloe, Angel, Tom and her mother, but also of himself. It was a photo taken at the task force, in his office. He was sitting down and staring to the side, deep in thought, with his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened.
"I took it soon after you came back to work," she answered his silent question.
She led him through the hall to the patio. The back yard was big, and out on the lawn there was a set of garden furniture, many flower beds and even a small pond. His eyes happened upon a curious object to the left. "You have a hammock," he chortled.
"Angel was as good as her word. It's quite nice, actually," she conceded. They could hear Chloe calling out to them in the house, so they returned inside. The girl had retrieved Angel from her artistic pursuits. The artist greeted Sam and bestowed a hug on Bailey. "It's good to see you again." Sam wondered a little at her best friend's warm welcome and made up her mind to ask about it.
"You, too. How have you been?" he asked politely.
"Very good, and you?"
"Well enough, I guess." Chloe interrupted the catching up to drag Bailey upstairs to her room. Once the pair was out of ear shot, Sam looked at Angel pointedly.
"What?" the artist enquired.
Sam peered at her. "You were awfully nice to him, is all."
"Come on, you know that I've liked him for a long time. He's gonna be in your life, and I have no problem with that."
"So I have your blessing?" Sam asked hesitantly. As her best friend, Angel's opinion mattered to her, and Sam hadn't addressed the issue this head-on before.
The woman stopped just short of rolling her eyes. "Of course you do. And look at you, being all prim and proper!" she joked. "I hope you don't expect me to act as your chaperone. I'm out of here after dinner."
Angel stood her ground despite Sam's efforts at dissuading her. "I've learned that three is a crowd. Three adults, at least," she amended her statement. "I wouldn't want to stand in the way of you two having fun," she said, waggling her eyebrows. She cackled as Sam blushed furiously.
After they'd eaten dinner and Angel had departed, they settled down in the living room to play a few rounds on a board game. Chloe was the most experienced player, winning consistently and leaving the adults to duke it out for the undistinguished glory of being called the loser. As it happened, it was Sam on both times. Far from a sore loser, she accepted her losses graciously, in her own mind chalking up her losing streak to being distracted by the company of the two most important people in her life.
Just as the last game was winding down, Chloe asked for permission to go and surf the web ten minutes earlier than her usual time. Her mother agreed and the girl made for the den, leaving the adults alone. They cleared away the game and stashed it on top of the bookshelf.
"I'll be right back." Sam made her way up the stairs and, from the sounds of it, to her bedroom. She descended the stairs not a minute later, holding something in her hands. She offered the item to him and, with a smile, she remarked: "Happy belated birthday." While he stared at his gift, touched that she'd bought something for him, she sat down beside him. "Well, open it!"
He did as she told him, to find a well-worn book of poetry. "George Herbert?"
She jumped in to explain her choice. "He's a contemporary of Donne, and I heard Herbert's poetry is in the same vein as Donne's. Have you read anything by him?"
He was admiring the book in his hands. "Not yet. How did you know I enjoy Donne's works? I don't recall having mentioned it to you," he said out loud his remembrances.
She looked satisfied with herself. "You'd be amazed by the things I know about you. Plus, I alphabetized your books. That ring any bells?" she queried with a smile dancing on her features.
"I guess I was too traumatized by the invasion of my privacy," he shot back.
She pretended to be affronted. "What you describe as an invasion I call a necessary imposition." They stared at one another for a moment, both struggling to keep a straight face. She was the first one to yield. "How about we call this a truce and you thank me for the gift?"
"Fine. Thank you." He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. As he withdrew from her, he stalled for a fleeting second, an iota of time where a true kiss could happen and they both sensed it. Then, he continued his motion backward, having made his decision for the time being. To move from expressing love in words to expressing said feeling in actions requires a jump that has surprisingly little to do with the physical and everything to do with the psychological; and as much as they loved one another, the moment hadn't arrived yet. Actions hadn't caught up with emotions.
Sam shot him a tender smile, an act he reciprocated. They spent a few moments in a comfortable silence. Sam's thoughts turned to the flash of regret she'd witnessed on his face when he'd wondered at how much Chloe had grown. She wanted to address it, wanted to explain why she'd packed up her life and left him broken hearted.
"Bailey? Can we talk about the past eleven months?" He looked baffled, and so she elaborated. "Can I explain to you why I left with Chlo?"
Now he looked totally stunned. "Sam, you don't need to explain it. Really, you don't. I know why you did it. You had to do it. Chloe comes first."
"I know you love her. I'm so sorry you missed out on a year of her childhood. I never meant that to happen." She took a beat. "I know you looked at her and thought of the way you never got to participate in Frannie and Arianna's years of growing up, not to the extent you wanted to." She ventured a look at him and knew she'd been correct in guessing what had disturbed him.
She wanted to drive home her point. "It was never about you being not good enough. In either situation." She looked into the distance with a melancholy expression. "It was just..."
"Life," he finished off her sentence. "Sam, I don't blame you. You did what you had to. Don't you dare feel guilty about this."
She accepted his absolution. "Okay. I guess it's my protective streak making itself known. Good thing it's found its match in you."
"I''d say so."
"I think we'll have to learn to not head them to the extent that we're used to." At his puzzled look, she continued: "Isn't your protective streak ultimately the reason why you initially said no to me?"
He took in her words. "I guess you're right."
"To be fair, you're protective toward everyone. That's the reason you chose to be a profiler and why you excelled at it, and I love that about you. But I think you're gonna to have tell your streak to take a hike. Otherwise, we won't make this work."
"I'll try if you will." She nodded, glad that they'd discussed one of the things that had been troubling her.
She rose and scuttled to the stereos to put on a classical radio station. When she returned to the sofa, she sat down next to him and he looped his arm around her. They listened to the music, relishing one another's proximity.
As Sam walked down the stairs, she caught a whiff of coffee. Furrowing her brows, she walked straight into the kitchen to find Bailey there. "Morning," she greeted him, sounding surprised.
He'd been looking at the front yard, admiring the sunrise, but he turned when he heard footsteps. "Morning, Sam."
She looked at the clock on the wall, to make sure she hadn't misread the time. "Why are you up? It's barely seven in the morning!"
"I'm not much of a sleeper," he explained without ceremony, taking a sip of his drink.
"Uh huh. What were you staring at?" She walked up to him to see what had caught his attention.
"Just admiring the sunrise," he commented, turning back to gaze at it. Sam joined him in the activity.
To be honest, the sunrise wasn't spectacular in her eyes, but then she realized that Bailey hadn't probably been able to admire a sunrise or a sunset in weeks. The fight for the VCTF must have taken up all his time. In addition, he was sort of on a weekend getaway. That must lend any mundane occurrence some extra lustre.
"What would you like to eat?" she enquired, still looking at the yard, furrowing her brow at the overgrown grass on one side of the lawn. She hadn't noticed that he'd averted his eyes to her, having been distracted by the glimpse of her in the soft sunlight.
"Bailey?" She turned her head to look at him, and he avoided her eyes, trying to come up with a response that made sense. The first thing that came to his head: "Pancakes?"
She did a double take. "Pancakes?" He nodded his head vigorously. "Okay, pancakes it is."
"So, what's in store today?" Bailey asked.
The three of them were sitting at the table, dousing their pancakes with plain yoghurt and maple syrup and devouring them. Chloe had clapped with glee when she'd seen the breakfast menu.
Sam swallowed her mouthful. "Well, I thought we'd spend the morning here or in the neighborhood. There's no point in heading too far away from the stables. Chloe has her riding lesson at one."
"I'll be going through an obstacle course!" The girl's eyes shone with excitement. "Will you have a riding lesson, too, Uncle Bailey? It's super fun!" Sam watched as Bailey's face registered a great degree of alarm at the thought. Apparently, he only felt comfortable on a horse if it came with a set of wheels. She jumped to his rescue. "You know, sweetie, I don't think Uncle Bailey packed anything to wear for horseback riding. But, we'll watch you for a while, and then go groom Triniti together." Bailey shot her a grateful look, but his expression changed when she uttered the grooming bit.
Chloe looked a bit disappointed, but rallied her spirits soon. "You can go riding the next time you're here!" With that, she excused herself from the table and dashed off to the living room, anxious to get to her horse-related programming. Sam turned her gaze to Bailey, who looked a bit wary. "What does this grooming involve?"
A reassuring smile appeared on her face. "Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know." He thought over her words as he ate. He was fine with horses, as long as he didn't need to ride one. He hadn't seen any horse up close since the day... Since that day. A scheming smile danced on his face for a while. It was time he got some payback, after all.
Sam and Bailey stood at the fence, leaning on it as they watched Chloe mount her pony and adjust the length of the stirrup leathers, then tighten the girth. Harry, the instructor, was already setting up the obstacles. Chloe steered her mount onto the circular footpath established by countless other horse-rider pairs. When she passed the adults, she gave them a wide grin. After that, she focused solely on the lesson, unaware of what her mom and uncle were up to.
"Wish you were out there, too?" Bailey asked, keeping a close eye on Chloe's progress.
"Nah, I can spare one hour of riding. I do like it, but I'm not as enthusiastic about it as she is. I only started again because the family therapist encouraged it. As a means of us bonding again," she explained.
He'd been looking at Sam, and he redirected his gaze back to the girl. "I can see that it worked. You seem as close as ever. That must be a relief for you."
"You have no idea," she sighed.
Bailey steered the conversation into safer territory. "She seems to be in her element out there."
"She does, doesn't she? I guess you only feel comfortable on a metal horse, not a breathing one, huh? I saw your face when Chlo suggested that you take a lesson," she teased.
He looked slightly affronted. "I just need to prepare myself mentally, that's all."
"Uh huh," she responded, sounding amused, as if not really buying his excuse. Behind Bailey, she spotted Annette riding Triniti into the stable yard. She grabbed his hand and started pulling him away from the fence. "Come on, it's time for you to earn your keep."
She led him to the equestrian pair. Annette dismounted and tucked the stirrups up, then looked up when Sam and Bailey approached her. Sam made the introductions. "Bail, this is Annette Grayson, the woman who lets me indulge my horse-owning fantasies without the hassle of reality. Annette, this is Bailey Malone, my... dear friend." She faltered a bit in her introduction of Bail. She'd have to dedicate a moment to coming up with a way of characterising him, now that they were starting to wade in the murky waters between friendship and romance. The man and the owner exchanged pleasantries.
"Is it okay if I teach Bailey here the basics of grooming?"
"Of course it is. You know Triniti loves all the attention he can get." Annette patted her horse's neck, then offered the reins to Sam. "Have fun. I'll see you next week."
"Uh, probably not. I'm thinking of spending the weekend in Atlanta." Bailey gathered that she was planning on attending the task force's wake, a fact that lifted his spirits concerning the week to come without her in Atlanta.
"Oh okay, just let me when you know for definite. Bailey, it was nice meeting you. Bye!" Annette waved her goodbyes and sauntered off in the direction of the small parking lot.
"Come on, let's head inside."
Sam took off the saddle and reins in Triniti's box, put a halter on him and led him to a showering stall, where she washed his legs. She was giving Bailey time to get used to the idea of grooming a horse. She walked the equine to a wide stall and secured him loosely on both sides of the wall. Triniti wasn't in the habit of making trouble. A fact of which Bailey remained less than convinced. "Are you sure this'll be safe?"
She allayed his fears. "Yes. Trin's used as a rehabilitation horse, for kids with cerebral palsy. He's a very steady character. I'm gonna go get the grooming box. You stay here and get acquainted."
"How?" He eyed the equine suspiciously.
"Blow into his nostrils! Gently!" she advised on her way.
He watched her go, wondering if she'd been serious. He looked at the dappled-grey horse. Triniti seemed nice enough. To be fair, the horse hadn't done anything alarming. Still, he wasn't about to blow into his nostrils. He was content to observe the mount, who was drooping his head low and shaking his tail lazily.
Sam returned in no time at all. "So, are you friends yet?"
His jaw dropped. "Were you serious about the nostril thing?"
"Yes! That's how horses get to know one another," she explained and set the box down on the ground. "Maybe another time, huh? Okay, let's get grooming!" She took out a body brush with long bristles.
"This here's a body brush. You use it at the start of the grooming, to remove any loose hairs and dirt from the coat. Make long sweeps, following the direction of the coat's hair growth. Like so," she demonstrated. "Have at it." She handed the brush to him. He approached the horse and applied the first sweeps carefully, keeping a close eye on Triniti's reactions. The horse appeared to be quite indifferent to his actions, and he started using a little bit more force. "I bet you two making a weekly habit out of this was a thrill for Chloe."
She smiled fondly. "Yeah, she loved horses and foals even when she was three years old. She could spend hours watching them at Tom's parents' place."
He paused in sweeping off the dirt and loose hairs. "That's right, they had horses. I'd forgotten that."
"I think being horse-crazy in the Waters gene pool, at least on the female side. Tom didn't really care for them, but then, Chloe, Helen, and his sisters, Emma and Maggie, make up for his lack of enthusiasm. I've learned to like them, myself," she quirked her lips. She watched as he finished brushing his side. She took the body brush from him and demonstrated how to use the rubber curry comb. Then she stepped over to the other side and started grooming Triniti with practiced moves.
"Have you seen them much? Your in-laws, I mean?"
Her expression was darkened by sad thoughts. "No, not really. I called them last year to tell them that Newquay was finally dead, but that didn't really heal the breach between us. I don't think we'll ever be as close as we once were."
Bailey read between the lines. She meant before Tom had died. "I'm sorry, Sam."
"Well, it is what it is," she remarked, angling for a casual tone. "Let's see how you're getting on." She bowed under Triniti's neck and walked to his side. "Not bad! We'll make a horseman out of you yet. Are you finished?" At his nod, she continued her instructions: "Okay, then take this finishing brush and sweep away just like you did with the body brush. You can clear the brush with this." She handed him the finishing brush as well as a metallic curry comb and took the rubber curry comb from him.
Sam was rifling through the grooming box. "You know, the cooling ointment isn't here. I need to go get it from Annette's locker. Are you okay to stay here?" He nodded silently, standing next to Triniti. She scurried off, not seeing the smile on his face. The time had come. He ducked into the nearby vacant box and emerged out of it within seconds. Then he patted Triniti, positioned himself beside the horse's head and waited for Sam's return.
Sam thought of nothing when she saw Bailey's back to her. She approached him, unsuspecting: "Bail, do you want to..." She cut off her words when something dry and wiry invaded her mouth. He'd turned quickly and flung a handful of hay at her, and now he looked mighty pleased with himself. She sputtered the hay out of her mouth, then shot him a peeved look. "What was that?"
He smiled, not at all ashamed. "That was payback." She stepped closer to him as if she'd interrogate him further, but then she remembered the alluded incident, from years ago.
She looked a bit amused, in spite of herself. "Ah. I guess I had it coming, huh?"
"Yes," he intoned with an overly serious voice. He watched as she plucked the wiry hay off her flannel shirt, not having realised that some had ended up in her hair. He moved closer and she stopped her task, wondering what he was up to. He locked her eyes as he removed the strands of hay, then showed them to her. "Hay," he remarked with a gravelly voice.
"Thanks," she breathed out, affected by his all-encompassing presence and voice. He didn't back away, and the moment hung heavy. Her eyes darted to his lips and she unconsciously tilted her head up, just as he lowered his head a few inches.
Right then, Triniti nudged at Bailey's back, sending him a pace forward, causing a collision of heads alright, but not the kind they both had been anticipating: his chin collided with her forehead with some force. She backed away a bit, bringing her hand to nurse the offended part. "Ow. You okay?"
"Yeah. He has quite the timing," he muttered under his breath.
"Well, he does like the attention," she added just as the horse in question nudged Bailey again. She quirked a smile, side-stepped Bailey and scratched Triniti's withers. "We still have to pick his hooves and comb his mane. Let's get to it."
The sun had set twenty minutes ago, and in the twilight, stars are coming out. Bailey was sitting on the steps of the patio, gazing upward to the starry sky. When Sam noticed his preoccupation, she stepped back inside, flicked off the patio light and joined him outside. The air had a crisp quality about it; they would need more clothes in less than an hour if they wanted to spend the wee hours on the patio.
She sat down beside him, staring into the star-ridden horizon. They were silent for a few moments, content to contemplate the stars and planets over them in a pleasant silence.
"I haven't seen this many stars in a long time," he remarked before long.
"Mm. The last time I did some star-gazing was when we were still living on Angel's farm," she mused.
"For me, it was when I was enrolled, in the Far East. Not that you had a lot of time to gaze upwards. But there were a few occasions," he explained.
"I like looking at the stars. Gives you a sense of calm," he added after a while.
Sam nodded her head. "I think so, too. It's even worth the crick in your neck," she joked as she lowered her head and stretched the muscles in her neck. Bailey adjusted his position to one where he was leaning back, resting his weight on his arms. She observed his pose and was about to adopt a similar one when the hammock suspended between two spears nearby caught her attention. "Come with me," she said and coaxed him to follow her by grabbing his hand.
When he realised that she was dragging him towards the hammock for a clear purpose, he tried to talk her out of her whim. "Uh, Sam? You're not thinking that we'll both fit in the hammock, are you?"
"I know for a fact we will! I've lain in it with both Angel and Chloe, all three of us together," she replied, not deterred in the slightest by his doubts.
"Angel and Chloe are considerably lighter than I am," he pointed out.
"Not by that much, and besides, what's the worst that can happen?" she dismissed his concerns.
"We drop to the ground and fracture our coccyges?" That earned an amused look from her.
"Coccyges. That's a fun word," she smirked.
"Sam."
They were at the hammock already. She turned to him, put her fisted hands on her waist and looked at him with an expectant air. He recognised her challenge and tried to stare her down. They stared at one another for a while, before the inherent humour of the situation became apparent to both of them and they transitioned into another contest without communication, this time battling to keep from smiling.
"You might as well cave in now, Malone. I can wait all night if need be."
"Fine. I suspect you're crazy enough to follow through with your words."
"Damn straight, mister," she cackled and started to climb into the hammock. He halted her with a hand on her shoulder. "I' think I'd better go in first." She had to concede that he had a fair point, and so she stepped out of the way. He climbed into the hammock cautiously, trying to settle in the side to make room and balance the hammock as Sam prepared to climb in. "Ready?"
He nodded, and she gingerly started to make her way in, taking her time so he could place his weight to offset hers. After a few attempts that she halted to make sure the hammock didn't tip too much, she started to giggle and did so for a long time, with no apparent end in sight to her merriment.
Shifting his weight to the vacant edge of the hammock, he grabbed Sam by the waist and hoisted her in one swift move to his side. He was now on his back, whilst she was laying on her side. The sudden change snapped her out of her giggles in a heartbeat. She looked absolutely stupefied, and he had to laugh at her expression.
"That's why they call me the Rattle snake. And you're welcome."
"I didn't thank you yet," she murmured and pressed a lingering soft kiss on the side of his mouth. Soft tendrils of her hair fell down to tickle his face. She broke off the contact, withdrawing only a few inches. "So, thank you." Mesmerized, he gazed at her eyes, at her lips, then reached up to tuck her locks behind her ear and ran his fingers along her jawline ever so lightly.
Her breathing quickened at his caress. His fingertips moved to cup the back of her head, urging a slight tilt down whilst he raised his head to meet her half-way. The kiss was sweet, unhurried, slightly wary, as if testing if it was welcome. He broke off the kiss, searching her eyes. The sparkle in her blue orbs and the smile that blossomed across her mouth reassured him.
The next kiss was hers. She lowered her head and kept the kiss light, exploring his lips, changing the pressure of the kiss every so often so as to tease him a bit. Just as she felt him yield to her kiss, she withdrew from him, then uttered a bit breathlessly: "Thank you."
He'd felt disappointed at her for breaking the kiss, but her repeated words proved that she was as affected as he was by their kisses. He grinned at her. "You already said that," he pointed out, running his left hand through her hair.
She had to think back before she understood what he'd meant. She was amused in spite of the slight embarrassment she felt, and she thanked the stars that he couldn't see her blush in their light. She adjusted herself to lie beside him, and they both gazed at the far-away deep space objects in silence.
"So, do you actually know any constellations?" he asked after a while.
"I know Ursa Major, Polaris and the Orion. The first two should be visible now," she explained and twisted her head around, searching for them. "There they are. Do you know celestial navigation?"
"I used to," he sighed.
"Want a refresher course?"
"Sure," he mumbled.
She was happy to oblige. "Okay. You locate Polaris by following the front stars of the scoop part in Ursa Major. That's Polaris right there, see? Then, gaze up directly at the sky above your head. Trace a line there from Polaris. The resulting line points north. So... north is that way," she finished with pointing her hand in the correct direction. She stayed silent for a while, thinking that she'd better let the information sink in.
When she turned her head to look at Bailey, she saw that he'd dozed off. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, she gazed at him, his unguarded expression and relaxed features. Then she began to feel drowsy, too. She whipped out her cell phone and set a timer for their nap. It wouldn't do to fall asleep outside without a blanket. She kept the phone in her left hand and gingerly re-positioned herself so she could lay on her side and snuggle up to him. Her head ended on his shoulder and she wrapped her right arm around his torso. After doing so, his left hand moved to cover her arm. She smiled and closed her eyes, drifting off.
The next thing she knew was Bailey's gruff command: "Turn it off. Turn it off." The timer alarm had intruded upon their joint slumber with its shrill tone. She turned off the alarm and glanced at the screen of the phone. It was 11.08. As loath as she was to sleep without him, she knew they needed to go inside. Grunting, she raised her head and put her weight on her left arm. Bailey was still trying to sleep, the alarm tone not having reminded him of their current sleeping situation.
She spoke in a hushed tone. "Bailey?"
"Yeah, baby?" he asked sleepily.
Baby? That term of endearment almost made Sam throw caution to the wind and sleep outside, just so she could hear it again. "We need to go inside now. Come on."
"Is fine here," he mumbled out as a response.
"No, it'll get cold soon. Did you hear me?" She jiggled her hand on his shoulder for a bit.
"Yes," he sighed.
"So, let's get going before you get stiff from sleeping here. You're no spring chicken, you know," she added with barely contained laughter. Her tease earned a look from him, one that she guessed to be stern. She smiled and kissed him, a kiss more tangible and affectionate than the ones before. "Don't look so mad. I love you all the same."
His expression melted and he caressed her neck. "Love you too."
"Now, let's go inside or I'll resort to tickling you." She started to get out of the hammock, causing it to tip dangerously.
"Hold your horses, woman," Bailey said, trying to keep the hammock balanced while Sam clambered onto steady ground.
As she watched him climb out, she remarked: "Woman? I liked baby better."
Now on solid ground, too, he rubbed his face to awaken himself. Sam's words didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense at the moment. "Huh?"
"You called me baby a moment ago," she reminded him as she twined her arm around his waist and fell into step with him. "When you were half asleep."
"Oh," he replied, unsure what to say next.
"For the record, I liked it. Hint, hint," she prodded him, wanting to see if he'd use the term again. He drew her closer and kissed her temple, then murmured: "I'll keep that in mind."
Sam put the coffee maker on and sat down at the kitchen table, glancing at the newspaper laid out in front of her. It was a little before eight, and while Chloe's late slumber didn't come as a surprise, she was surprised that Bailey hadn't made his way down yet. He must be still sleeping.
A smile appeared on her face as she reminisced the events of the night before. The hammock, the caresses, the kisses. He wasn't a half-bad kisser. And then some, she mused. She should probably adjust her description to a more correct one, seeing how much trouble she'd had falling asleep.
Her dreamy smile faded when she heard steps on the stairs. Someone was coming down. She stared at the doorway and witnessed her baby girl entering the kitchen. "Morning, sweetheart."
"Morning, Mom," Chloe yawned, the sleepiness not having abandoned her yet.
"Did you sleep well?" Chloe grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, then sat down. Sam handed the comics pages to her. "Yeah. How about you?"
"I slept very well," Sam said in a white lie.
"Are we going to the fair today?" Chloe asked.
"I don't see why not. We'll pick up Stella on the way, okay?" Chloe nodded. Stella was her best friend, whose family lived three miles from them. The girls had made a habit of going everywhere together.
"You know, I'm gonna have to give Bailey a ride home today. Do you mind staying at Stella's while I drive to Atlanta?"
The girl shook her head. "We can play with Mysz." Mysz was Stella's cocker spaniel. For three months, Chloe had been trying to convince Sam to buy them a dog, but her mother hadn't budged yet. Spending time with Stella's dog was the next best thing.
Chloe tore her eyes away from the comics. "Mom? Will Uncle Bailey come for visits more often from now on?"
Sam reached out and stroked the girl's hair away from her face. "I hope so. Would you like that?"
Chloe nodded her head vigorously. "Yeah, I would." She started to say something, but took a brief pause before continuing. "Do you love him? I mean, love him love him?"
Sam couldn't hide her surprise. "Why do you ask?"
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Duh, I'm thirteen. I'm old enough to see it."
Sam looked at her daughter, wondering when she'd grown up this much. "Yes, I love him. How do you feel about that?" she queried, searching Chloe's face.
The girl smiled. "I'm happy about it."
Sam felt relief at her daughter's words. She'd been worrying about her and Angel's reactions the most. Now, she felt as light as air. Things were finally looking up.
"What would you like for breakfast?"
Chloe scrunched up her face, deciding between options. "Cereal, please."
Sam fixed breakfast for both of them. As they ate, Chloe filled Sam in on the happenings of her riding lesson. Bailey sauntered into the sunny kitchen at half past eight.
"Morning, sleepy head!" Sam was the first to notice his arrival. Chloe echoed her mother's greeting.
He mumbled something incoherent in response, and the Waters mom-daughter duo chuckled.
"I can't believe I slept in so late. Is there any coffee?" he asked hopefully.
Sam pointed to the coffee maker on the counter. "Of course. Must be all the fresh air from yesterday, day and night," she reasoned innocuously enough, but Bailey caught her hidden reference to their time in the hammock. Luckily, his back was back to them, so he was able to wipe off the coffee drops he'd spilled with his sleeve.
He turned around with a blank expression on his face to see Sam looking at him. "Must be," he conceded and gazed at Sam, then sipped his coffee. His expression soured, for the coffee had cooled. Sam guessed what his expression meant, and she got up without further ado and offered to make a fresh batch of coffee. The adults haggled over who'd make the coffee as the girl watched on for a while.
"I'm gonna go watch the news," Chloe announced as she rose from the table.
Sam eyed her daughter with a suspicious look. "The news or that dog show?"
"The news! It's on first," she added slyly. She walked over to Bailey and gave him a hug out of the blue. Then, she took her tea mug and headed for the living room sofa.
Bailey shot Sam a questioning look, and she explained: "I told her. She was happy about it." He seemed relieved to her. She said in a low voice: "Now, come here." She grabbed handfuls of his black sweater, tugging him closer, and gave him a languorous kiss. "Morning," she murmured when they parted. She straightened the bundles her fists had made in his sweater.
He caressed her cheek, moved his hand to her chin, tilted her head up and kissed her in return. "Morning."
"Sit down. I'll make you some breakfast. What do you want to eat?"
"Anything. I don't care."
He sat down by the table and she set to work. He stared at her while she prepared breakfast for him, revelling in this new-found feeling of euphoria. All in all, the freedom to act on his urges to touch and kiss Sam was proving to be an intoxicating feeling. She turned around with his breakfast plate and then beamed at him, having read his feelings on his face. "Bon appétit." She sat as company while he ate.
"Oh no," Sam groaned as she and Bailey followed the two conspiring girls who had a clear destination in mind. Sure enough, they ended up standing over a box where cute golden retriever puppies fought for attention from the lookers-on. Chloe and Stella cooed over them, with Chloe throwing pleading looks at her mom.
Sam remained unmoved by her daughter's antics, which included handing a puppy to her. Even holding the small canine wasn't enough for Sam to relent. Chloe took the puppy away and set him down, looking totally dejected. Bailey had been content to admire the puppies, not intervening into the tug of war between mother and daughter.
Seeing Chloe's disappointment, he moved closer to her and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes lit up and she nodded her head, then thanked him. Whatever he said to her, it was enough to tear her away from the puppies. The girls made a beeline for the rides, and Sam and Bailey had no choice but to follow in their wake. Sam's curiosity demanded to be sated: "What did you say to her?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out," he smiled conspiratorially. Despite several attempts, she couldn't pry it out of him.
They ambled around the fair as the girls went on several rides. They looked at merchandise, tried their luck and skills at a couple of booths, all the while keeping track of Chloe and Stella.
They were at the sugar candy booth when, out of the corner of her eye, Sam caught a sight that sent shivers down her spine. Her heart thumping, she turned away from Bailey to chase the sight, somehow both dreading and feeling compelled to do so, as if confronting the sight would make her fear disappear.
He watched Sam's smile fade and her freeze, her gaze fixing on something at a distance, her attention rapt even as she seemed to be thrown into inner turmoil. He followed her eyes and glimpsed a hint of a white suit – the memory of Newquay's clothes coming back to him from the day the killer had kidnapped Sam. He looked back at her, guessing that she was remembering the same event and a flashback could soon follow, if he didn't help her fend it off.
He stepped in front of her, blocking the offending suit, gently placing his hands on her shoulders and calling her name. Her gaze looked into the distance, through him. He ran his hands up and down her arms, willing her to the present and murmuring to her.
Bailey's tactile and aural reminders snapped Sam out of her frightened state. When he could see that the crisis had been averted, he turned her around, took her hand and started walking in a direction opposite to where Sam had been staring. She realised he was taking her back to the ride Chloe and Stella were riding. He'd known that seeing her daughter would calm her down. She disentangled her hand from his grasp, instead winding it around his waist. He drew her closer and they made their way to the ride to wait until Chloe and Stella would get off.
They stood near the apparatus, watching the people on it whooping out of delight. Bailey wanted to give Sam a chance to compose herself, and so he kept silent, opting to steady her nerves with his presence. They remained silent for a few minutes and looked on as the girls stepped off and queued up again for the ride.
Finally, he felt compelled to ask: "Are you okay?" He looked at her closely. She nodded: "Yeah. Thanks. It's just that..."
She looked morosely at the distance and sighed heavily. "I guess I haven't healed all the way yet. What with the flashback last week, and the scare just minutes ago," she said softly.
Her confession worried Bailey. He'd thought she would have come to grips with the years of her torment over the past eleven months. The fact that some healing still remained to be done had him thinking of ways to bridge the divide between torn and healed.
Her next words threw him for a loop. "I guess I've been waiting for you," she uttered, looking at him to gauge his reaction.
She felt his arm go lax around her and she knew she'd surprised him. She turned to look him in the eyes. "I don't mean that you're now in charge of my healing, in charge of me taking the last step in the process. That's my responsibility. All the same, I think the last piece will fall into place with you in the picture. In whatever capacity you'll be in my life," she hastened to add to take the pressure off him. She didn't want him thinking that her survival depended on his concession to a relationship with her.
She fell silent and searched his face. He hadn't given any outward signs of his thoughts. Realising that she was waiting for him to say something, he ran his hands down her arms and clasped her hands. "I won't lie. Your admission has me worried. But, I'm here for you, and nothing can ever change that. I'll help you take the final step."
Sam nodded at his promise and her lips curled to a small smile. She withdrew one hand from his and started leading him to the ride queue. "Come on, if I don't stop the girls now they'll soon be sick and throw up in the car. I've learned that the hard way."
He was in the driver's seat, taking driving directions from Sam. He'd offered to drive because Sam would have to drive back in any case. The menial task also prevented him from contemplating the upcoming four days without Chloe and Sam, thoughts that were sure to turn gloomy in no time. So, he was content to focus on something else.
She ventured a look at him. One thing had been plaguing her for a few weeks now, and she couldn't keep silent any longer. "Bailey? Can I ask you what you intend to do after Friday? After the task force is done?"
A sad expression appeared on his face. "Would you believe me if I told you I haven't really thought about it? Because I truly haven't."
She digested his words. "Okay, you haven't thought about it. What would you want to do?"
He pondered her question for a while. "I don't think I'm ready to call it quits inside the Bureau."
"Are you thinking of taking another leadership position? Joining a field office somewhere?" The prospect of Bailey choosing to relocate in some distant city disconcerted Sam greatly. Not that she would try to dissuade him, if that was really what he wanted to do.
"No, more like... I still want to make a difference, but I'm tired of the bs that crops up when you try to lead an office." He shrugged. "Maybe I'll see if I can get back into Quantico. Teach new agents."
She was pleased at his idea. "You should. You were a great instructor."
She disentangled herself from his embrace, hating every minute of it. "I have to head back. I need to rescue Mysz from Chlo."
His thoughts were hazy at the moment, but he was pretty sure he hadn't heard of the person in need of rescuing. "Who's Mysz?"
A pained look crossed her face. "Stella's dog. I told you she's been begging me to get her a dog." He turned his head to hide his incipient smile. He wondered when Chloe would launch the offensive.
She started to rise from the sofa when he grabbed her hand. "Wait."
She shot him an exasperated look. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."
"It's not that... I hate knowing that you might have a nightmare tonight and I won't be there," he remarked, alluding to her scare at the fair.
His worry swelled her heart. "I'll be fine. They're just dreams. But thanks, honey." She gave him one last kiss. "Love you."
"Love you, too." When he started to get up, she halted him with a gesture. "No, I think you'd better stay seated. I need a clean get-away." She threw her coat on and checked the contents of her purse. "I'll see you on Friday. Stay out of trouble until then," she said from the door.
"Always!"
He watched her close the door and listened for the rev of the car engine, a signal of her departure. He sat on his marks, thinking about the weekend he'd had. He was sad to say it, but it was the most fun he'd had in a long time. As a result, he felt more at-ease, more peaceful. When he was with Sam, he felt... right. A feeling to be marvelled at and cherished, for sure.
He ordered take-out, and while he waited for the food to be delivered, he passed the time by reading Herbert's poems. He found that he quite enjoyed them. He devoured his cuisine and read for an hour, then decided to take a quick shower.
After the shower, he wandered into the kitchen, wondering whether to go for a glass of water or a stiff drink. He opted for the water, thinking to him that Sam would be proud of his choice. She'd always been prodding him to drink less. He gulped down one glass and filled it again, then started for the sofa. He noticed that the message light on the answering machine was blinking. He'd missed a call, probably because of his shower. He listened to the message and grinned at the end of it.
"It's Sam. I can't believe you told Chloe I might be willing to get her a cat. You're in a whole world of trouble, Malone. Just wait until I see you on Friday."
TBC...