Panda Note: I have to tell you guys this, if you were hoping for some happy stuff then I'm sad to say this first part isn't all that happy. Expect more of what happens in this chapter in the coming ones, but fear not! I promise I'll be gentle with the hearts of our favorite characters. I'm actually really excited for this particular chapter, because it's the 'start' of things. I'd really love it if you read it and reviewed or tweet me or even send me a message on here, I'd LOVE to know your thoughts. Thanks so much! Now go read!
Chapter Four
The colors on the plate were swirling into a disgusting mess before her eyes. Sam couldn't understand why she had to work with sloppy chefs. It seemed so unjust, letting just anyone throw on a hat and call themselves culinary artists. Allowing that idiot of a teacher to teach was what really got to her! No matter how many times she visited his office to complain about his poor teaching skills, she had been met with brash censure.
All she remembered was the pain in her fists after delivering heavy blows to his face. Of course, she was removed from the premise.
She was never banned because of her good standing with a number of employees there.
Frowning down at the slop which was supposed to be a delicious dish, she contemplated just quitting. No matter how hard she tried to teach her underlings, nothing seemed to sink in.
"This is just—I'm so—do it again!" she shouted finally and pounded her fist onto the counter causing the plate to fall to the ground. "I'm sick and tired of telling you that this is sloppy work and I won't tolerate it from anyone!" She pointed and glared at the three before her as they shrunk away.
"We're so sorry Ms. Puckett," one stuttered.
"I get tired of that too!" she ran a frustrated hand over her face, attempting to calm herself before she injured yet another new chef. "We've got limited time to fix this so do it again!" Her voice only showed mild annoyance this time.
They scampered off, hopefully to do their jobs while she took this moment to take a fatcakes break. Wandering down a hallway, she placed her rear-end in an old deep brown wooden chair, and tore off the wrapper to a fatcake.
After eating half of one, her eyes landed on her cell phone on the table. She decided to make a call.
Smiling to herself, Sam picked it up and pressed one of her secretly favorite numbers. It rang three times before a frustrated voice answered hello.
"Hello yourself," she replied.
"Sam?" he seemed to have stopped whatever it was he was doing and turned his attention to her. "Is everything okay? You hardly ever call me at work."
"Yeah well Fredwad, I was having a crappy day and needed spread the joy on," she poked her finger deep into the fakcake, feeling the cream touch her skin. She contemplated licking her finger clean, and then she did.
"I'm sorry your day sucks but I can't talk long; the boss is giving me the stink-eye for being on the phone while we're running lines," she could faintly hear someone yelling in the distance. "And I gotta go. I'll be home late tonight, love you."
Before she could reply, the line went dead. She sighed, not feeling any better.
She knew something was bothering Freddie after they left Yakima two weeks ago, but she couldn't put her finger on just what it was. Part of her wondered if she was just being paranoid about how he had been acting. At first it was just mild things, like working a few extra hours and never being home for dinner; or how at night he would not even wait for her to join him in bed. He would simply slip under the covers and knock out.
There were also a lot of little things, like their negligible conversations and when they got a few hours together, when he didn't seem as invested.
No, Sam knew him well enough to know something was on his mind and he didn't want her to know about. It bothered her more than anything that he even had trouble talking to her. She always assumed they were nothing like normal couples but apparently and sadly, she had been wrong.
Not feeling up to finishing the rest of her fatcake, Sam got up and took off her hat and took one last peek into the kitchen. Her three underlings were hovering over a plate and being as careful as a mad man defusing a bomb.
She allowed a slight smile to twitch on her face and then turned to clock out.
The first stop was to pick up some groceries, seeing as how they probably would be eating late, or she would eat alone. As sad as it was, she was becoming accustomed to those silent dinners alone. What bothered her most was that it actually bugged her. She never used to care about being alone. Now that she had felt what it was like, she did not think she could face the loneliness anymore.
Parking her vehicle into a spot close to the front of the store, she prepared for a quick shopping trip. Knowing what she needed never stopped Sam from strolling through various isles to see if there was anything else she might want to get. Wanting and needing are very different things, and the wanting is much more fun!
Not until all the things she would need for dinner were in her cart that, not knowing exactly how, she found herself in the liquor isle. She was known to not drink much, except for the occasional margarita when she went out with Lisa and Carly. The little monologue that sounded off in her head as she ran her eyes over the labels of different brands of alcohol was giving her permission. Just once couldn't she indulge a little while she was all alone at home? Making a Whiskey Sour or even an Appletini; what could that hurt? Now that her mind had thought up different drinks for the occasion, she settled on a bottle of Jim Beam and a container of Sour Drink Mix.
She wasn't sure why she chose Jim Beam whiskey over Jack Daniels. She concluded it might have been the price difference.
On her way home she rolled down her windows to let the smell of recently fallen rain into the car. One thing about Seattle was that it constantly rained and though it could be inconvenient, at times it was also wonderfully refreshing after a crappy day.
It wasn't until she caught sight of their apartment that she started to feel more relaxed.
Parking, grabbing her bags and rushing to the elevator was done in a blur. Sam headed to their next door neighbor's to collect Hammy and then, still blurry, rushed to her own place. The sound of silence welcomed her as she and Hammy entered. The pitter patter sound of his little paws could be heard only to disappear in the softness of the carpet in the bedroom. It was apparent to Hammy that the men in her life had no time for her.
Sam emptied the contents of the grocery bags onto the counter without even bothering to glance at the food. Her main objective was to down a glass of Whiskey Sour. The drink called to her and its pull would not be denied.
Before she could comprehend it she was pouring herself another, complete with a stemmed cherry sinking to the bottom. One cherry after another sank, until she noticed that her body felt loose, like a noodle after being removed from water.
Being buzzed was different for everyone, but she always knew where to cut herself off. That moment was now, the four glasses of Whiskey Sour under her belt, as well as the four cherries.
She turned on the stereo and allowed some random station to play, not really paying attention to the words of the artist.
Hours passed by and when the clock chimed that it was nearing ten she thought it would be wise to just go to bed. She had to be up so early.
Having put everything away earlier, not even bothering to cook dinner, she headed to the bedroom to crash.
Exhausted, Freddie sighed as he put the key into the lock and pushed the door opened. There were no lights on; telling him Sam had already gone off to bed. He could feel her disappointment in the air along with the slight smell of alcohol, a regular occurrence over the past week. He partly blamed himself for driving her to that point where she had to drink to numb her feelings.
He avoided talking to her about their future by avoiding her as much as possible. He needed time to understand where he stood but being in limbo helped no one. There was no way to just tell her how he was feeling, not just because he was not sure himself, but mostly because she would probably snap his neck in half.
Two weeks ago he was sure that she would understand, but that all changed during their ride home from Bushwell Plaza, when out of the blue she had turned to him and said, "I want to have kids." It may as well been as if they were talking about the weather. So why did his gut feel punched?
He didn't reply at that time and instead allowed that one statement to stew in his noggin for a few weeks. And that was exactly the same place where he found himself now as he pushed quietly through their door.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he worked his way toward the kitchen. It didn't smell like Sam had cooked at all, which he was expecting. Some nights when he was late, she wouldn't bother to cook. On some level it made sense to him. She did it for a living and to her it was an art. Having it sit in the fridge was disrespectful, at least to her. He opted for a sandwich and a glass of milk.
Sitting quietly at the table, with minimal light above him, Freddie wondered how he allowed all of this to get to the point where he was the one pushing Sam away. After everything they had been through together, he was shoving her off to the side simply because he couldn't deal with his own issues.
There was no understanding why he was so afraid to jump forward into their future, make it final and have some kids.
It wasn't as though he didn't love Sam. He knew he did. But the thought of them having kids at their age was putting pressure on him. He didn't even know if he wanted to have kids, ever. He was still a young guy who wanted to go hang with the guys whenever he wanted without worrying over another person's life. For that matter he didn't know if he could be anyone's father. What did he really even know about having one anyways?
The sandwich vanished from his grasp finding its way into his mouth and his milk followed.
It didn't feel right sitting all alone in the dim kitchen area stuffing his face with a ham sandwich at midnight. This must be how it is for Sam every night I'm not home, he thought to himself. Part of him regretted taking up those extra hours on this supposed blockbuster film. He couldn't understand why his boss was pushing so hard to get this one done. They had plenty of time to get it finished, not that he was needed too much on it. That had been his excuse though that he wanted to help finish it but really he was avoiding long conversations with his girlfriend.
Shaking it off, he headed to the bedroom, making sure not to be too loud as he slipped out of his clothes and down to his boxers.
Crawling into bed beside Sam he felt even lonelier still; she was so far off to her side of the bed. Whenever they slept, she would always be in the center, even encroaching on his side. He never minded that of course, because it meant he got to wake up the smell of her hair and the feel of her fingers gripping onto his shirt.
She was practically hugging her side of the bed, curled up into a ball under the blankets. His eyes wouldn't shut as they watched shadows dance along the ceiling, mindlessly wondering how they got here.
"You're home," she whispered, startling him away from his thoughts.
Her body still faced away from him and sadly he could feel her stiffness even though their bodies did not touch.
"Yeah," he stated in a normal tone. Why did he feel like he had to make her think he was in control when the opposite was the truth? "Sorry I was so late; this new project we're working on has a deadline," he could feel the guilt seeping out of his pours.
He could feel her body heat coming towards him until soft curls brushed his chin scraping his mild stubble and delicate fingers worked slowly to his chest.
"Don't let it happen again, Benson," she threatened tiredly and then yawned.
"I'll talk to the boss tomorrow about it, but for now I'll just try to get home earlier."
It was silent for a few moments and he thought she had fallen back to sleep. Her fingers gave her away as they traced patterns on his bare chest. It was a side to Sam no many people ever got to see and it always remained in their bedroom.
She was going to kill him that was for sure. There was no way that he'd live to see his twenty-eighth birthday.
"Something up, I know it," she whispered, still painting shapes with her fingers. "You've been acting weird lately and normally I would beat it out of you but that would have gotten me nowhere," she began. "You've become tougher and harder to crack so I thought I'd give you time to figure out whatever is going on in your stupid fluffy head."
"Gee Sam you have such a way with words," he said in amusement which received him a pinch to the side of his chest.
"Shut up," she laughed into the crook of his neck as his fingers lightly brushed the side of her hip.
"Make me," he replied jokingly.
For a moment the room was silent, no one moved and all that could be heard was shallow breathing. Freddie could feel its heat pouring over his neck, her heart pulsating against his chest. He knew in a second that things had just gone from playful to serious.
As much as he loved the R-rated part of their relationship, they couldn't do much while she was still a 'noodle' as she liked to say when she drank.
With the restraint he didn't know he could muster, Freddie gently turned her around and wrapped her into his arms. She seemed to have lost track of her first thought and followed him to this one.
Within minutes he felt her soft breaths on his forearm as she snuggled up with his other arm and tangled their legs together.
She'd never admit it but she rather liked being completely wrapped up in him.
The first thought when he woke up the next morning was that it was cold. The blankets were tucked all around his body but something just wasn't right. The smell of dried drool was the second thing he registered.
No sweet jasmine flowers welcomed him that morning as he cracked his eyes opened.
The bed was empty and so was the warmth of Sam's body.
It wasn't until his eyes landed on the bedside alarm clock that he realized she had left for work. He had to chuckle to himself as he thought this. If his teenage self had thought such a thing he would have laughed himself into a coma. Sam holding down a job back then was close to taboo. Then again she had worked for her father during senior year.
It all seemed so long ago.
He'd have to also be heading off to work within two hours. On most days he'd be the one headed off early but it was wedding season and that's when Sam's job demanded most of her time and attention. Her restaurant was where most of the receptions happened, save Carly's, who had to stick to the tradition of her family.
He almost completely forgot about the fact that Sam would be working on a bunch of weddings over the next month. This brought on what has been on his mind over the past few weeks, to the front once more.
As he sat up he could see Hammy still curled up on his bed, making whimpering songs.
Probably chasing another rabbit n his dreams, Freddie thought pleasantly as he shuffled out of bed and to the shower.
He would much rather stay home and forget work just for one day. Maybe forget it for a few days even, just long enough to grasp at what he was afraid of.
No matter how many times it ran through Freddie's mind he couldn't understand it. He absolutely loved Sam, too much in fact. But there was this twisting in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about what she wanted. It didn't seem like Sam would be the type to want to be a mother. It was always surreal learning something new about the girl with yellow hair and bright blue eyes.
She'd changed dramatically over the years, though no one except Freddie had noticed. It was bound to happen though, no matter who you were. She wasn't as hyper anymore, never did anything just because. It might have had something to do with her choice in carrier, which drained a lot of the life out of her.
Not many people knew this about her but Freddie saw it everyday. She was so excited at first, when she started culinary arts school, when she got her first job and then when she got the job at her current occupation. But over the more recent years that changed.
It started out small; her first group of chefs straight out of school had burned most of the food. She could get past that, but as the years progressed it seemed to escalate into grander things. Just last year two of her students forgot a roast in the oven and it almost burned down the entire kitchen.
Freddie shook his head as water began to rush down upon him. He almost got lost on his trip down memory lane, seeing as how the water had now shifted over to cold.
A cold breeze hit his form as Freddie stepped out and continued on with is day.
He made sure to drop off Hammy with the sitter across the hall and then headed off to work. It was clear across town, but about ten minutes from Sam's work.
Glancing at the clock in his car Freddie realized that he still had a whole hour before he had to be to work. He always took Aurora Avenue to work; it was the fastest route from Oakwood Place, their apartment. Sam took the same street every morning on her way to work. He always loved to pass by her work and wonder how her morning was going.
He could remember a time when he'd stop in to eat, even though the prices were far too high for his tastes. Besides he got the star chef's food at home usually.
Today seemed like the best day to stop in, like he used to. She might think it's odd since he stopped doing it almost six months ago.
As he parked in a vacant spot near the rear part of the Canlis restaurant he noticed something wasn't right.
The first thing he saw was Sam with her hands on her hips yelling at a guy with blond hair. She was doing most of the yelling with mild comments from the gentleman. He thought for a moment if he should even intervene. Then again Sam could handle herself in any situation, such as dealing with some guy.
He opened his door and stepped out, now able to hear the conversation.
"You are the most idiotic teacher that's ever lived and trust me I've known some stupid ones!" she was yelling with flames in her eyes.
"What would you know anyways," the guy snipped back with folded arms. "You've never had to teach or be under that kind of pressure."
"It's your job to make sure these guys are prepared for the real world. What are you teaching them? Every year you send me sloppy students and each year they seem to get worse. What the hell is wrong with you?"
From his position Freddie could tell that Sam's fist was itching to punch the guy in the face. He had heard stories about this guy and knew that Sam had been having issues with him for years.
"Maybe you aren't giving them a chance to prove themselves. You're always riding and scaring them."
"Then they must not be good under pressure and this job requires that you are." she said in a lower tone, clearly holding herself back from maiming the guy before her.
"Then teach them that and stop blaming me for their lack of knowledge in that field. I sent you the best students and trust me they are so do your job Ms. Puckett." he stated, making sure to draw out her name.
"Why don't you go back to school and not do your job? I've got my own to do."
Without another word the guy turned around and left before their fight got more heated. Freddie watched him get into his car and drive off before he approached his angry girlfriend.
"What are you doing here?" she frowned, still ticked.
"Thought I'd visit you before I head to work." he shrugged, trying to pretend he hadn't just heard the entire argument."
"Oh," she said sighing. "You want something to eat?"
"No, but I'll take some dessert," he grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
"I think something could be arranged," she smiled.
After he visited Sam he hurried off to work, noticing that he only had ten minutes to get there before he was late. His boss would yet another reason to yell at him. Freddie remembered a time when the man actually respected him. Now it was a rarity that his boss at 'Camera One Productions' would even utter a kind word.
He couldn't wait until Carly came back and they could get back to their show. It's what he needed to feel normal again. He also needed to get out of 'Camera One productions' and take up an officer with 'Bat Robot Inc.'. They had been after him for years but he had been so happy with 'Camera One' that the offer just didn't seem too appealing.
When he walked through the door one of his assistance shoved a bunch of papers into his hands. Freddie sighed and wished he had just called in sick.
Mr. Sanders, his boss spotted him from across the hall as he worked his way toward the sound stage for that day's scene. He was so grateful that this was the second to last scene and then he could go and start working on the digital aspect of the job. This meant that he could work without his boss or the extra hours. That also meant he'd be going home earlier a lot more. As messed up and sad as it was he didn't think that was too appealing.
He missed spending nights with Sam and seeing the gang on Fridays. But for the past few weeks he'd made it a note to miss the dinners at Spencer and Lisa's with everyone.
Sam never brought it up but he knew that it was working its way to the surface; all he was waiting for was the day it would come up.
"Benson!" snapped Mr. Sanders, his balding head and round belly working their way over to him. "What took you so long? That kid we got workin' the camera has no clue what he's doing. Get over there and handle it!" with that said Mr. Sanders turned and headed down another hallway to yell at someone else.
Freddie shook his head and headed off to spend the rest of the day dealing with a bunch of amateurs and snippy actors
Across town Lisa Ward was churning out another masterpiece along side her man Spencer. They both were quite successful in their jobs and had a lot of free time on their hands between gigs.
"Spence," she started cutting out intricate shapes on a semi wet piece of clay.
"Huh?" he asked lifting up the protective shield over his face. He turned off the blowtorch in his hands and headed over to her.
"You know how I told you my sister has that job in Africa coming up?" she began, working her way toward the point of this conversation.
"Yeah you said that she was going to a village to help out with the famine there. What about it?" he plopped down across from her as she poked at a cut piece of clay.
"My niece is going to need somewhere to stay for a few months and—,"
"You want her to stay with us," he finished with a small smile.
"Are you okay with that?"
"I love little Kat, she's just like you," Spencer smiled as she looked up.
"I'm so glad 'cause I didn't want her going to stay with her other aunt, the one is a nightmare," Lisa cringed.
"We've got the time now where we can handle a kid," he assured her, "How old is she now?"
"Six, gonna be seven in a few months," Lisa smiled happily.
"That's a fun age,"
"How do you think the three amigos are gonna handle this?"
"Oh they'll be fine, besides we could get them to babysit a lot!" he laughed.
"I'm so glad you're on board with this, Spence. I thought you might have a problem with a little kid running around here."
"Did you forget that Carly was once a little kid?"
"Yeah but you were also pretty young,"
"What are you trying to say, I'm old or something?" he pretended to look hurt.
"That's exactly what I'm saying, you're in your forties now, you can't be chasing around a little kid," she joked, winking at him.
"You're hilarious," he deadpanned.
"I know," she grinned. "Hey, let's go get some food."
"Sure," he stood and followed her out of the studio.
Friday reared its ugly head and Sam couldn't seem to push herself out of bed. She had nowhere in particular to be but Carly was due back that day.
She faintly remembered that she promised that she'd pick up Mr. and Mrs. Shay from the airport. Freddie had left for work early that morning, promising that he'd return home early that night for their usual dinner at Spencer's.
Now that she actually thought about it, she had a lot to get done that day. There was shopping, taking Hammy to the vet at ten and then going to get Carly and David at three that afternoon. After all of that she still had to get to the store and then head to Spencer and Lisa's to start dinner.
She always enjoyed cooking with Spencer, who was bursting with great food ideas.
Sam was also excited to have her best friend back; she missed her brunette buddy more than she realized she would.
"Let's go Hams we have a long day ahead of us," she told her dog who trotted after her as she headed for the door. He seemed to be doing a lot better, more of a bounce in his stubby legs.
Panda Note: This seems like a great place to end. I'll pick up on this same day in the next chapter, which hopefully will be just as long as this one. It's gonna be getting serious and probably sad, just warning you. Also I'd love to thank my dear friend Tammy—or Luna Moody, as you all know her. She's so amazing! You know what you've done Madame! Thanks for the ideas; you're ALWAYS in my head! Also I have the greatest beta in the world, she's brilliant and her name is Linda. I recommend you follow her on twitter, Eightyeightgirl.
I'll be posting this before Linda beta's the rest, she's done half of it already, and then I'll just go back and post the beta version. Leave me a review! I loves the reviews! If I get enough I'll try posting sooner! *wink wink*