DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA ROSS
IS EVERYONE STILL AROUND AFTER THE SITE DECIDED TO PITCH THE MOTHER OF ALL BITCH FITS? LOL. LOOKING FORWARD TO HEARING FROM YOU GUYS! AND IT'S PIMPIN' TIME AGAIN! CHECK OUT NOT ONLY TOGETHER WE FALL, BUT MY NEW THING: HI, MY NAME IS.
Speak the truth
What makes you hurt?
What makes you smile?
What calms your nerves?
What drives you wild?
I wanna know
I wanna understand what it takes
to be your man
What's your favourite color?
What's your favourite song?
And if I sang it for you, would you sing along?
I need to know
I gotta understand
what it takes to be your man
What you want
What you need
baby tell me everything
there ain't nothing I don't wanna know
'Cause all I want
all I need
is just you here with me
Baby let me know
so that I can be
what it takes to be your man."
-What it Takes, Adam Gregory
Samantha paced her bedroom, one hand on her hip, the other to her forehead as she attempted to both compose herself, and work up enough courage to join her parents out in the living room. It had been less then forty-five minutes since they had arrived and it already felt as if they'd been there a lifetime. Ten minutes after they'd stepped through her front door, they had already began making themselves comfortable in the second bedroom while she and Flack politely excused themselves and sought solitude behind her locked bedroom door.
They had showered together. Something so simple that had proved an incredible feat as they fought to not allow basic soaping up and rinsing off to turn into something erotic. Although both had been tempted to try and pretend that her parents weren't in the next room -her mother most likely counting the minutes and seconds her daughter was inside the bedroom- and just get down to business right there in the shower. In the end, the logical sides of their brains had won out as all thoughts of intimacy and passion were shoved to the back burner.
Sam had opted to stay hidden away from her parents while allowing her boyfriend to make an awkward journey through the apartment and to the front door completely alone. He'd cursed her endlessly, in between kisses and proclamations of love of course, and then left her in the bedroom with a promise of calling as soon as she got home. To make sure she had neither killed her mother, or had fled down the fire escape to save her sanity.
Then, as she dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a massive New York Rangers sweatshirt she'd long ago pilfered from her boyfriend's closet -along with several dress shirts, an NYPD hockey jersey with Flack 15 written on the back of it, and three pairs of athletic socks- she'd listened as the owner of said clothes exchanged a few polite words with her step father and then ignored her mother completely when she expressed shock and horror that he had a key to her daughter's apartment as he let himself out.
Now, as she checked the time on the bedside clock radio and came to the conclusion she'd prolonged the agony for as long and as best as she could, she listened as her parents moved around her living room. More like her mother was snooping through her things and eyeing her possessions with complete disgust as her step dad sat on the couch, watching television and minding his own business. She could hear her mother complaining about everything under the sun. From how cold it was in the apartment, to how horrifically awful her daughter's taste in furniture and accessories were.
Sam rolled her eyes and felt both a twinge of hurt and a boat load of resentment for her mother and her disparaging remarks, but literally laughed out loud at the contempt in her mom's voice as the old woman complained about the box of condoms and the empty condom wrapped littering the floor.
"Let them have their fun," came Clint's response. "At least we know two things. One, they won't be gifting us with any grand kids in the near future. And two, he's responsible enough to wrap it up."
Sam giggled at the last comment. Her step father -Sarge, as her and Adam affectionately, and sometimes not so affectionately- referred to him as, may have been an Air Force vet who often ran his home like a barracks, but there were three things he was exceptionally good at. The first was loving his step kids as if they were his own. The second was his dry and sarcastic wit. And the third was his uncanny ability to shut his wife up. While Sam loved and appreciated the first two, the third to her was absolutely golden.
Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, Sam exhaled loudly and then confidently exited the room and journeyed down the hall and into the living room. Where, just as she had suspected, Sarge was already taking up residence on the couch watching ESPN while her mother busied herself with bitching and moaning as she tidied the place up. Sam's eyes narrowed at the sight of her mother running a finger along furniture to check for the presence of dust, then looked over at her step father.
Sarge simply shrugged and place his forefinger at his temple and made a swirling motion. Clearing indicating his solid belief that his wife was a certified nut job.
"Well lady bug," Sarge said with a sigh. "You seem like you've meet a decent enough young man."
"Decent?" Lynne snorted. "A decent young man doesn't answer the door with no clothes on. And he certainly doesn't have sex in the living room and leave his…business…lying about."
"Well in his defence, we weren't exactly expecting company," Sam fought hard to keep her temper in check. "We thought it was one of my neighbours coming by to borrow something. And if you want to get technical about things, we had sex on the living room floor. At least we used protection."
Her mother frowned. "Neighbour or no neighbour at the door, he should have put some clothes on."
"It wasn't as if he was completely naked," Sam pointed out. "Admit it, mom. It did something for you to see some hot young guy parading around with no shirt on. And if he had have been naked, well trust me, it's a beautiful sight. And you would have probably passed out and we'd still be attempting to pick you up off of the floor."
Sarge smirked and coughed noisily in order to disguise a chuckle.
"But yes, daddy," Sam said to him, ignoring her mother's icy glare as she joined her step father on the couch. "He's a very nice guy. He's funny and sweet and incredibly charming. He sort of remind me of someone I know," she kissed Sarge's cheek and curled her arms around one of his massive biceps as she said the last part.
"Well then he's a keeper if he's even a quarter like me," he declared and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Adam gave away your dirty little secret. Why didn't you tell us you'd met someone here?"
"We didn't really tell anyone, outside of his family, that we were together until a week ago," Samantha responded. "We wanted to keep things quiet. Low key. Just enjoying ourselves, and each other, for a little while. Before all of the drama and gossip started."
"You only met him a week ago?" her mother stared at her in horror. "And you're already…fornicating with him?"
"I met him when I first started her," Sam informed her. "I've been here almost two years now. We were friends until he finally decided to come clean with his feelings for me in November. And they were mutual feelings. We just never acted on them."
"Why not?" Lynne asked
Her daughter shrugged. "We weren't ready to, I guess. I wasn't ready to get into a relationship with someone after the nightmare that was Zack. And Don was in the midst of a couple of relationships so he…"
"So what you're saying is that you were an afterthought. That once he grew tired of the other women in his life, he just settled for you," Lynne concluded.
Sam tried not to react. To keep her face emotionless. She didn't want to give her mother the pleasure of knowing how badly her words had stung. "No," she said calmly. "What I'm saying is that he got tired of meaningless relationships and he came to the person he wanted forever with."
Her mother rolled her eyes at that.
"And you met him at work?" Sarge asked.
"Don's a homicide detective," Sam told him. "A detective Sargent, actually. He just got promoted a month and a half ago. He works in conjuncture with the lab. And he also has uniform officers and detectives that work directly under him. He has a lot of responsibility. He works really, really hard. He's an amazing cop."
Sarge smiled at the pride in both her eyes and voice.
"He's actually the one responsible for saving both Adam and our friend Danny from the warehouse that day," Sam added.
"An Irish drug cartel," her mother sighed. "Your brother never should have been mixed up in that."
"Adam wasn't mixed up with anything," Sam said. "He was just there processing a crime scene. He didn't know what was going to happen. No one did."
"It never would have happened if your…boyfriend if you want to call him that, had have just left people alone to their own business. If he hadn't have went after those people…"
"Mother," Sam snapped. "He's a cop. He goes after bad people for a living. It's what he does. And he's damn good at his job and I resent you laying blame on him for something that was totally beyond his control. Don works hard. For pretty crappy pay. He busts his ass to protect the people of this city. The largely ungrateful people of this city. So don't come here, to my home, and insult him. One more word about him, and you can find you way out the door and to Adam's. Kapish?"
"No one is insulting anyone," Lynne argued. "I was merely making a statement."
"Well don't," Sam huffed, and yanked the elastic out of her ponytail and shook out her long hair. Then gathered her tresses back up again and creating a new pony tail, secured it with the elastic. A nervous trait. Brushing or fixing her hair over and over again.
"What is that?" Lynne asked, snatching her daughter's left hand.
"It's a ring," Sam replied.
"I can see that. What kind of ring?"
"Garnet and diamond. Garnet is Donnie's birthstone and mine is diamond so he bought me a ring with the two together. He gave it to me for Christmas. I love it."
"Why is it on that finger?"
"Because he asked me to wear it there," Sam said. "Why? What's it to you?"
"Is it an engagement ring?"
"No. It's a commitment ring. Like a promise ring. And to go with our commitment, we've decided to move in together."
Her mother's eyes widened.
Sarge chuckled. "That poor kid does not know what kind of hell he's getting himself into shacking up with you."
"How old is he?" Lynne inquired.
"What does that matter?" Sam countered. "He's old enough. I'm not robbing any cradles."
"What I mean is that he looks much older then you."
"He's just going grey really young," Sam said with a shrug. "I find it incredibly sexy. Don's actually younger then I am. He just turned thirty one."
Her mother arched a sceptical eyebrow.
"Why would I make that up?" her daughter laughed. "Honestly, I'm quite proud of myself. For nailing a younger man. If you don't believe me, I can always get him to show you his driver's license the next time you see him."
"That is certainly not necessary," her mother informed her. "And here…I believe these belong to you…" she dropped the box of condoms and the wrapped in Sam's lap.
"Thanks," Sam chirped. "When I go to bed, I'll put them in my secret naughty drawer alongside of my furry handcuffs, edible undies, strawberry flavoured lube and my vibrators."
Sarge coughed noisily.
Her mother ignored the comment. But the look on her face clearly informed Sam how vulgar Lynne Ross-Chambers found her daughter.
"How's your friend?" Sarge asked.
"Could you be more specific dad?"
"The one you brought home with you on Fourth of July holiday. Tiny thing, brown hair, adorable brown eyes. Cute as a button. The country girl."
"Lindsay," Sam told him. "Lindsay Monroe. From Montana. Soon to be Lindsay Messer. And soon to be mommy."
"She's pregnant?" Lynne asked.
"Yes, mom. She's knocked up. Danny was a bad boy. It must be a shock for you. That there's women other then me out there have pre-marital sex. And to answer your question, dad, she's good. Very good. A little bit of all day sickness, but she'll survive."
"I hope you don't follow in her footsteps," Lynne commented.
Sam held up the box of condoms. "Don and I are prepared. We're so protected we're like Fort Knox. No babies. Not anytime soon. We like the sex too much to give it up in for diaper changes and middle of the night feedings."
"As long as your having fun," Sarge reasoned.
"Oh I am. We both are," Sam said with a giggle, then yawned noisily. "It's late and I have to be up at seven for work. Do the two of you need me to stay up?"
"Well we are your guests," her mother said. "You should be.."
"Going to bed and getting your rest," Sarge finished and kissed her cheek. "Have a good sleep, lady bug."
"I will," she said and kissed his cheek before standing up. "I better keep these close at hand," she told her parents, clutching the box of condoms to her chest. "In case Don sneaks in in the middle of the night and can't keep his hands to himself. I promise I'll smother his face with a pillow. He's a little…loud. When he's…well…you know."
And with that, she flashed a sugary sweet smile in response to her mother's pursed lips and flaring nostrils, and turned on her heel and bounced off down the hall.
Satisfied with having gotten the last word.
For once.
Sullivan's was packed solid. The usual Friday night crowd. Off duty cops hanging out in groups, their respective dates or one night pick ups hanging off of their arms. College kids in baggy jeans and backwards ball caps and Columbia and NYU sweatshirts who were doing their rounds at all the local bars and pubs. Drinking way too much and thinking they were big men because they could down twenty shots of tequila and pound back the equivalent of a two four of beer. They were loud and obnoxious and did little more then make asses out of themselves. Nearly causing fights as they attempted to pick up women that were already spoken for, stumbling around spilling drinks on themselves and innocent bystanders. Getting tossed out into the snow for their belligerent behaviour.
Flack pushed his way through the throng of people hanging around the bar and held up a hand to capture the bartender's attention. After he'd left Sam's apartment, he'd gone back to his own place several blocks away and had attempted, to no avail, to call it in early night. He'd called her and they'd spent a half an hour talking quietly on the phone until it became apparent she couldn't go on avoiding her parents any longer. He'd gone to bed, and then found himself wide awake, his hands behind his head as he stared at the patterns cast on the ceiling from the shards of moonlight that crept in through the slates in the vertical blinds on the window.
He had grown so accustomed to sharing a bed with her that he felt empty and alone. He was used to hearing her breathing and smelling the shampoo she'd used before heading to bed. Her light snoring and her often incessant chattering. Used to feeling her move against him in the middle of the night. Her feet brushing against his legs or her hair tickling his back or chest. He was used to the way she'd sometimes wake up with a start and then snuggle in tight to him, her face buried in the hallow his throat. He'd wrap his arms around her and stroke her hair. They never spoke. He never asked about the bad dreams that seemed to crop up every once in a while, and she never offered information. He would hear her give a small, content sigh, then feel her body completely relax against him. Then her breathing would slow down and soften, letting him know that she had fallen asleep once again.
For a guy that had once valued his personal space so much, who'd always believe spending that much time with a woman was dangerous and he should always have somewhere to escape too when things went bad, the only thing he wanted now was her next to him in his bed.
He had spent forty five minutes lying awake before giving up the attempt at slumber. He'd tossed off the covers and got out of bed and climbed into a pair of jeans and a Henley shirt and then left his apartment. Remembering that Scagnetti and Hawkes were planning on having a few drinks at Sullivan's and hoping that he was in time to catch them.
Now, as he tossed a ten down on the bar and waved off any change, Flack grabbed his Guinness and began to scan the crowd for the familiar faces of his colleagues. Nearly choking on a mouthful of beer when he felt a hand slap him roughly in the middle of his shoulders.
"Crimestopper!" Danny greeted him, a pitcher of beer in his free hand. "What are you doing here? Thought you were going to Brooklyn's to blow off some steam?"
"I should be the one asking you what you're doing here. I thought you were going home to spend some time with Monroe. You know, considering you impregnated her with your mutant offspring."
"Oh…that.." Danny said and gave a nervous laugh.
"Yeah…that. How in the hell does Sammie find out about something like that before me?"
"'Cause Montana managed to get to her before I managed to get to you. In between the IAB insanity and me racing around the lab like a chicken with its head caught off, I never got the chance to get down and tell you. Besides, you were dealing with your own shit all day. And then when you said Whitmore was making you work late, I figured you had enough on your plate already."
"You're having a baby, Danny. You're my best friend. That kid will be like a niece or a nephew to me. Monroe being pregnant is huge news. I can't believe you'd hold off on telling me."
"I know…I know. I'm an insensitive ass. I should have made it an effort to pop downstairs and told you. If it makes you feel any better, you're not the last to find out."
Flack frowned. "Other people know?"
Danny gave a sheepish smile.
"You asshole, Messer. I'm your best friend and I'm the last to find out?"
"Well you're not exactly the last. Sid and Pino don't know yet."
"Just everyone in the lab and in the precinct?" Flack asked.
Danny nodded reluctantly.
"You know, just count yourself lucky that I don't slap you upside the head Gibbs style for pulling that kind of shit. 'Cause I'd had to knock you into a coma and then your kid not have their baby daddy around. I guess congratulations are in order. How you feeling about the prospective about being a father?"
"Scared shitless," Danny admitted, as he led the way through the crowd towards the back of the bar, where their colleagues waited. "Certainly wasn't something that I planned on happening any time soon. But it's my baby. My flesh and blood. May not be planned, but it's not unwanted."
"You and Monroe will make great parents," Flack assured him. "Kid won't be able to ask for a better mom and dad. But let's just hope and pray that it ends up with her looks. 'Cause we definitely don't want another Danny Messer wandering around."
"Easy, Flack, easy," Danny chuckled. "Doesn't matter who it looks like, my kid is going to be drop dead gorgeous. Trust me. You know, you and Brooklyn are next."
"For what?" Flack asked, sipping his beer.
"Having a baby."
Flack narrowed his eyes and glared at his best friend. "Bite your fucking tongue," he ordered.
"Come on, it's the natural progression of things. You guys are moving together, soon you'll be engaged, married, babies on the way."
"I don't know who made you in charge of my personal life, but Sam and I are nowhere near being ready to get married and have kids. That is light years away from where we are now. Trust me."
"Come on. Think about how fast things are already developing between you guys," Danny said. "I mean, it took you more than a year to get your head out of your ass and make a move on her, but now that you have, you guys are going full steam ahead. You guys are going to be shacking up together and believe me, it won't be long until you're heading down the aisle and expecting kids."
"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, Dan-o. For starters, Sam isn't ready to get married."
"How do you know that? Did she come right out and tell you?"
"Exactly, she did. I asked her to marry me and she said no. Turned me down flat."
Danny stared at his best friend. "You shitting me?" he asked.
"Do I look like I'm shitting you?"
The CSI shook his head. "Ouch," he said. "Talk about a blow to the ego. What was her reasoning? She must have told you why she said no."
"She did. She thinks that we haven't known each other long enough, intimately, to get rushing into a marriage. She says it's too soon and we both know that. And that if we jump into something too quickly, somewhere down the road we're going to find things out about each other that will destroy our marriage even quicker. Which I don't get. We know everything about each other. What makes us tick, what makes us happy, what pisses us off. Our likes and dislikes. Little shit like our favourite foods and our favourite colours and our favourite movies. There's nothing we don't know about each other."
Danny nodded in quiet contemplation. "So when she says she doesn't want to get married does she mean not right now or not ever?" he asked.
"She says that she loves me more then anything else in this world and that she means right now. That one day she wants us to get married and have a family, she just doesn't want that happening anytime soon."
"Well to be honest, as much as I know it's probably a real kick in the nuts to be shot down while proposing, I have to admit I agree with her. It wasn't that long ago that she was engaged to someone. Who was the biggest fucking prick on the planet. Someone that abused her and treated her like complete shit. So she's probably got some issues surrounding getting that deeply involved with another guy. And if you want my humble opinion…"
"By all means," Flack said with a smirk.
"Take things nice and slow. Don't expect to much of her. Don't freak out when she gives too little, and make a huge deal of it when she gives a lot. Treat her like she's a strong, independent and confident woman, but hold on to her just tight enough where she knows she's safe and secure. Don't push and don't boss her around. But don't lie down and let her walk all over and treat you like shit. Let her be wild and crazy, but know when she needs to be reigned in and do it. And don't pressure her. Into anything. You do that and she's going to bail. And I know that's the last thing you want."
Flack nodded in a agreement. Then broke out into a slow grin. "What's happening to you, Messer? You get yourself engaged, you get Monroe pregnant and all of a sudden you're growing up on me? Getting all deep in your old age? What's that all about?"
"Love changes someone, Flack. Linds changed me. For the better. I did some stupid ass things and I cut her deep and she still took me back. Yet she still took me back, gave me another chance. That kind of love changes someone. And it's starting to change you. Being with Brooklyn? You're becoming a different man. And I mean that with the utmost respect."
"She makes me want to be a better man," Flack admitted. "I want to do right by her. I want to love her and take care of her. But sometimes I'm afraid of doing that. Because one moment she's loving being treated like that, and the next she's acting like I'm smothering her. Sometimes I don't know whether I'm coming or going, you know? I mean, I know she loves me. I don't doubt that. It's just…" he sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if she's in love with me. Understand where I'm coming from?"
"No," Danny admitted. "You're talking like this and that's your first drink? You better get tanked so you start making sense."
"Flack!" Scagnetti called in greeting as the two men approached the table where he, Hawkes and Stella's firefighter boyfriend Brendon Walsh sat amongst full and empty pitchers and glasses of beer. "What are you doing here? Your girlfriend actually let you out of the house? She's letting you breathe fresh air?"
"Hey, don't be all hatin'," Flack told him. "You're just jealous 'cause the last time you were laid, Reagan was still in office."
Hawkes and Brendon nearly spit mouthfuls of beer across the table while Danny laughed hysterically and Scagnetti frowned at his partner.
"I'll have you know, Junior, that Clinton was office at that time," Scagnetti jokingly informed Flack as the younger man placed his beer on the table and shrugged out of his jacket.
"Don't act like that's something to be proud of," Flack said, as he tossed his coat on top of the pile next to Brendon and took a seat in between Danny and Scagnetti. "If anyone should be proud, it should be me. Less then two hours ago."
"And you're out hanging with the boys?" Danny asked. "What's up with that?"
"Shouldn't you be warm and snug in your bed snugglin' with your girl?" Scagnetti teased.
"I should be," Flack sighed. "But we had some unexpected visitors show up tonight."
"Her period?" Danny asked.
Flack frowned. "No…I think I met my future in laws."
"You think?" Danny asked, as he poured beer into three glasses. "You either met them or you didn't."
"I did meet them," Flack told him. "They showed up on her door step. Like half an hour after we had sex."
"Now that's a rather unfortunate time for daddy and mommy dearest to show up," Scagnetti said. "While Flack Jr is spooning with their baby girl."
"At least he wasn't doing something else," Danny laughed. "When Linds' parents came down to visit at Christmas, they caught us in a rather compromising position in the kitchen when they came home early and unannounced from a shopping excursion."
"Pants on or off?" Brendon asked curiously.
"Off. And around our ankles," Danny replied.
Scagnetti grimaced. "Can you honestly imagine? Come home for a little yuletide celebration and find yourself staring at Messer's bare ass."
"Better then getting an eyeful of his Yule log," Flack deadpanned.
Everyone at the table, including Danny, laughed.
"So what's this you think you met your future in laws?" Danny asked. "I mean, they were Sam's parents were they not? So you either met them or you didn't."
"What I meant is that I met them and I think that they're my future in laws," Flack responded. "What is so hard to understand about that? I met them and I think I'm going to end up marrying their daughter. Is that a hard concept to grasp?"
"Awwww…" Scagnetti reached out to tousle Flack's hair. "Little Donnie Junior is in love."
"And what's your excuse for being out with the guys tonight?" Flack asked his best friend. "I thought for sure you'd be shacked up with Monroe all night after springing that jewellery box gig on her."
"Still can't believe you pulled that shit," Brendon laughed.
"What?" Danny asked. "It was one of my finer moments."
"You stole the goddamn idea off of a Zales commercial," Flack reminded him.
"Haven't you ever been inspired by something you saw on television or in a movie?" Danny asked.
"Sure," his best friend responded. "I've just never acted on it."
"Good thing about it is that she didn't see the commercial and call me on it," Danny said.
"She was humouring you!" Flack laughed. "Everyone on God's green earth has seen that commercial! Women love those sappy jewellery commercials that come on during Christmas and around Valentines Day. Every time Sam sees one, she gives me this evil look and says, 'I wish someone would do something like that for me', and punches me in the shoulder. And if Sammie saw that commercial, Monroe saw it."
"She's definitely humouring you, dude," Brendon said. "But I'll give you an A plus for pulling it off without her saying anything and making you look and feel like a complete ass."
"Fuck all of you," Danny exclaimed. "Seriously. You're all just jealous that you can't make your ladies happy."
Flack snorted. "Sam wouldn't definitely beg to differ with you on that. She has no complaints. Trust me."
"Stella either," Brendon spoke up.
"You're just cruising by on your pretty face," Scagnetti told him. "And Flack, you're just…hell I don't know what you're doing 'cause if that girl was as smart as she's suppose to be, she definitely wouldn't be with you."
"It's the pretty blue eyes," Danny sing-songed.
"What I find really pathetic out of all of this, is that you two," Scagnetti pointed at Danny and Flack. "Act like you're so big and bad and macho, talking all this shit about knowing how to treat your ladies, yet your both here."
"You know my reason," Danny defended himself. "Linds and I got into a fight and she kicked me to the couch. I got tired of that, checked to make sure she was sleeping and I took off. But I have to make sure I get home by two thirty. Since the first night me and her hooked up, she's been getting up every night at two thirty to go to the bathroom. And if my ass isn't on that couch when she goes to take a leak…"
"It will be a long time before you ever make it off the couch," Hawkes finished.
"Exactly," Danny agreed.
"So what's your lame ass excuse?" Scagnetti asked Flack.
"I just told you. My future in laws decided to show up."
"And that sent you scrambling for the door?" his partner asked. "You didn't think it was a wise idea to stick around and make a first impression?"
"Oh I made a first impression," Flack replied. "I answered the door in just a pair of sweats. With a bite mark on my shoulder and gouges from fingernails across my shoulders and down my back."
"Better then seeing Messer's bare ass," Brendon said.
"So you decide to just up and bail?" Scagnetti asked. "You two are complete and utter morons. At a time when both of your girls, who you two call the loves of your lives, need you the most, you two just take off to hang out in a bar with your buddies? At least Walsh has a legit excuse. Stella's working. But you two…" he shook his head. "Pathetic."
"Hey, you have no idea what these two girls can be like that," Danny argued. "No clue at all. You don't know."
"I don't know what they can be like," Scagnetti agreed. "But I know what you two can be like that. Which makes me surprised to know that those two girls even stick around to put up with either of your bullshit. They both could do so much better and instead they're putting their all into you two jackasses. They give you two fuck heads every ounce of their hearts and souls and what do you two do? Haul ass as soon as the going gets a little tough. Danny bails 'cause he can't accept when he's wrong, and Flack bails when he can't suck it up, pull up his big boy pants and take the shit as it comes."
"You don't know what…" Danny attempted to get a word in edge wise.
"What I know is that you two have something special with two beautiful, amazing women," Scagnetti cut him off. "And that you two shouldn't be sitting here with us. You should be with those women. Holding onto them as tight as you can. 'Cause one day, if you two don't quit screwing around and you two don't grow up, they're going to haul ass and you'll be miserable and alone. And you'll spend the rest of your lives kicking yourselves and wondering what could have been. When you could have just sucked it up, acted like men, and stuck by them no matter what."
Silence fell on the table as Scagnetti's honest and heart felt words hung on the air. Danny nodded slowly, letting the pieces of advice sink in. Flack sat emotionless for several long minutes, before picking up his glass of beer and downing it in nearly one large, long sip.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he told his partner, slapping Scagnetti on the shoulder as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. "Talk to the rest of you guys later," he said, as he reached for his jacket and tugged it on.
"Where you going?" Danny asked. "You bailing on us already?"
"I'm going home," Flack replied, zipping up his coat. "As in where my heart is."
"And where would that be?" Scagnetti asked.
Flack smiled and playfully rubbed the older man's hand. "Wherever Little Brooklyn is," he answered, and turned and headed away from the table.
Scagnetti gave a small smile of pride as he watched the younger man pushing and squeezing his way through the throngs of people as he made his way towards the front entrance of the bar. And when Flack finally disappeared into the crowd, the older detective turned back around in his seat and took a long swig of his beer.
That's my boy, he thought.
Flack paused in front of Sam's apartment door, listening of any signs of life from inside. The brightly lid public hallway of building was in utter silence. No noise coming from any of the other dwellings on the floor. The only sound being the occasional humming of the building's furnace coming to life. Inside of apartment 303, it appeared as if all the occupants had long retired for the night, causing him to breath a sigh of relief at the thought of being able to sneak inside, and not have to face Sam's mother or step-father. It was close to two in the morning, and the last thing he wanted, or needed, was a confrontation of some kind. All he really did want, was to get there, climb into bed alongside of that warm and welcoming body, and sleep whatever was left of the night away.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his keys and quietly slipped them into the door and unlocked it. Wincing at the loud click that accompanied the releasing of the deadbolt and the slight grinding of the door handle as he pushed his way inside.
Or at least tried to. He frowned when he met resistance. Then realized that his girlfriend, not expecting him to show up in the middle of the night, had put the chain lock across the door.
For fuck sakes, he thought, as he briefly closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the door. There were two options. The first was to take out his cell phone and call either Sam's land line, or her cell phone. The problem with the former, was that there was no way to avoid waking the rest of the house up and alerting them to his presence. The issue with her cell phone, was that Sam was notorious for never turning the damn thing on, or leaving it on vibrate.
And then there was option two. He knew for a fact that the chain lock was a cheap piece of crap. It had been on the door for years, and was rusting and cracked in places. He also knew, that the screws holding it to the wood of the door frame, were extremely loose and he'd been reminding himself for a month to tighten them.
The one time my mind being a sieve actually is a good thing, Flack thought, and opening the door as far as he possibly could, reached inside, grabbed the chain and yanked as hard as he possibly could. He hear the slight cracking of wood as the screws ripped out of the frame, followed by a small clatter as the broken chain tumbled to the foyer floor.
Behind him an apartment door flew open. He gave a startled jump and turned around to find Sam's elderly neighbour, Mrs Jenkins, standing in her door way in a red and blue floral print house coat, her hair covered with a paisley handkerchief and her thick eyeglasses resting on the top of her head. The woman was close to ninety and still in well enough health to live on her own and take care of herself. But she was as blind as a bat without her glasses and was incredibly nosy. Not to mention a self describe insomniac. The smallest noise from across the hall and she was either peering out her peep hole, or opening her door to check on things. She was constantly bringing Sam baked goods from the bakery and delicatessen her great grandson owned in Little Italy. In turn, Sam helped the old woman with house keeping and laundry and often took her to doctor's appointments and to get her hair done. Flack in turn, did small repairs around Mrs Jenkin's apartment, and routinely did her grocery shopping for her.
"Who are you!" Mrs Jenkins hissed. "What the hell are you doing? That's not your apartment! Get the hell out of here!"
"Relax, Mrs J," Flack held his hands up as he stepped slowly towards her. "Take it easy."
"Go! Go now before I call nine one one!" she warned.
"Mrs J," he sighed heavily and cautiously approached. "I am nine one one. Calm down now."
"I will not calm down! Get out of here and don't come near me unless you want me to kick your ass!"
"Mrs Jenkins! Enough!" Flack reached out and gently took a hold of her glasses and slipped them down onto her face. "It's me! Don. Don Flack. Samantha's boyfriend."
"Donnie?" the old woman peered up at him. "What are you doing here at this time of night? And what were you doing?"
"Sam locked me out," he told her. "So I was breaking in."
She frowned.
"Hey, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, right? Our little secret okay?"
She narrowed her eyes and regarded him suspiciously, then nodded. "I've got a list of things on my fridge for you to do. If you don't mind helping an old lady out."
"You know I don't mind. Do me a favour and either shove it under Sam's door or give it to her when you see her. Chances are you'll run into her before you run into me. I've got to get in there. Protect her from her crazy parents."
"Was that who should up here earlier? Draggin' all them bags behind them? The woman seemed like a ripe bitch. Moaning and complainin' from the time she stepped off of the elevator.
"Oh she's a ripe bitch and then some," Flack said as he crossed the hall to Sam's apartment. "Bat shit insane doesn't even accurately describe her."
"No way a woman like that gave birth to such a sweet and beautiful young girl. No way in hell."
Flack was half tempted to tell the old woman not to judge a book by its cover. Because while Samantha Ross came across as the bubbly, down to earth and sweet as pie girl next door, there were times she was a first class bitch. Bossy, demanding, sarcastic. Mean. And it was a mixture of those two sides that kept him going back for more.
"Good night, Mrs J," Flack said, and opening Sam's door, stepped inside.
The woman paused in her doorway. "When are you two going stop illegally fornicating and get married?!" she called.
"Good night, Mrs J," he smirked, and started to close the door.
"I better not find out she's popping out any babies without a ring on her finger! Don't be so damn cheap and put a diamond on it already!"
Flack chuckled in response and softly shut the door. Waiting until he heard the elderly woman head back into her apartment before snapping the deadbolt closed and kicking the shattered pieces of chain aside. Dropping his keys into his jacket pocket, he toed off his boots and placed them on the rubber mat next to the door. Unzipping and shrugging out of his coat, he opted to carry it into the living room and toss it over the back of the couch as opposed to risking waking everyone up opening the squeaky closet door to hang the item up.
The apartment was bathed in welcome silence and brilliant moonlight. Silvery bands of light tumbled through the windows and cat shadows on the furniture and floors. Flack silently cursed the hardwood that creaked under his feet with every step he took on his journey to Sam's bedroom.
He quickly and quietly let himself into the largest of the two bedrooms and softly shut the door behind him. Sam was on the farthest side of the bed, fast asleep on her right side, her back towards the door as she cuddled his pillow close to her chest. With just the aid of the moonlight, he stripped down to just his boxers and tossed his clothes on top of the Sam's dirty laundry hamper before pulling the comforter back and climbing into bed alongside of her.
Settling himself on his side, he wrapped an arm around her slender body and pulled her tight against him. His hand resting softly on her stomach and his eyes closing as he buried his face in her hair. Relaxing in the warmth of her body and the intoxication scent of the shampoo she had used earlier. Jasmine and gardenia. He often complained about how girlie it was and had gone out to get some shampoo that he could use and leave there so he wouldn't go to work smelling like a florist, but on her, the smell was perfect. It was the scent that he associated with her. That made her Sam. And he knew, if that scent was to ever disappear from his life, he'd never cope without it.
He'd never cope without her. He had quickly and seemingly effortlessly fallen hopelessly and desperately in love with her. He had vowed that he would take things slowly. That after a series of useless and meaningless relationships, he'd guard his heart closely and not give all of himself so freely. But the kiss in the rain on that chilly November night had shattered any will power he'd had. He had given that kiss his all and had felt her give the same in return. At that moment he'd lost himself in her.
And had yet to gain an ounce of himself back.
Scagnetti's words had cut deep. They had made him realize that he owed it to Sam to support her through whatever craziness and bullshit cropped up in her life. She had come so far in such a short period of time. Trusting him like she hadn't trusted a man in a long time. She still had a long way to go, but at least she was a work in progress. And he was determined to stick around for the long haul.
Sam stirred. Mumbling in her sleep and giving a soft sigh. She rubbed her cheek against her pillow and tightened her grip on the one clutched to her chest.
Flack pushed her hair away from her ear and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. "Babe?" he whispered, his breath tickling her skin. "You think I can have my pillow back?"
His voice startled her and she jumped, her eyes snapping open. "You scared the shit out of me!" she scolded him in a harsh whisper, glaring at him over her shoulder.
"Sorry," he said, and leaned over her to give her a soft kiss.
"You taste like beer," she informed him, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
"When I went home I couldn't sleep so I headed over to Sullivan's to have a couple with the guys," he explained. "How'd it go with the monster? I mean the mother."
"It went," she yawned. "She was her usual bitchy self but I think I handled myself well. How did you get in here? I put the chain on the door."
"Let's put it this way," he pulled her tight against him and kissed the side of her neck. "I owe you a new chain."
"You broke into my apartment?" her eyes widened at the realization.
He nodded. "I'll stop off at the hardware store down the street tomorrow and get a new one and put it on the door Sunday sometime."
"That's fine," she said. "But you're so damn lucky one of the neighbours didn't catch you and call the cops."
"I am the cops, baby," he reminded her in a low, deep, sexy voice, as his hand drifted up the front of the Rangers sweatshirt she'd worn to bed.
"Don't start," she sighed, yanking his hand out from under her clothes and holding it tightly. "There's no way I'm having sex with you with my parents in the next room."
"Is that what you think I snuck in here for? To have sex?" he asked, feigning offence.
"Are you going to try and convince me you didn't?" she countered.
He grinned. "Okay…so maybe the second thing I broke in here for was sex. But it wasn't the first."
She stared pointedly at him over her shoulder.
"It wasn't," Flack insisted. "I did not just come and break in 'cause I was hoping to get laid, alright?"
"So what did you come and break in for?" she asked.
"Because I was fucking miserable lying in bed alone," he replied. "Because I missed your smell and the sound of your breathing and the feel of your hair when it brushes up against me. Because I miss the way you talk in your sleep and the way you snore…"
"I do not snore," she argued.
He ignored her. "Because I miss being beside you. Because you've come into my life and completely turned it and me upside down. Because I was a dick for taking off on you when your parents showed up. I should have been a man and stuck around. And because I want my forever to be with you, and that's not going to happen if I don't stand beside you. Because I want you to realize that your forever is with me, too. I want to know what it takes to be your man. I want to know what you want and what you need. I just want you. With me."
She blinked. Taken back by the sincerity and tenderness in his voice. "Donnie…I…"
"Just help me out here, Sammie. What does it take? For you to totally give everything of yourself to me? I need to know. I need to understand."
She sighed.
"Tell me everything. There's nothing I don't want to know. Let me know what it takes to be your man."
"You already know everything," she said. "There's nothing you don't know. And I am giving everything I have to you. And you are my forever. There's no question about that. I love you and you love me and there shouldn't have to be this huge discussion about how I feel or how I think. All I want and all I need is you."
He smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips.
She snuggled back into him and closed her eyes as she tightened her grip on his hand. Several minutes of silence passed between them.
"What's my favourite colour?" she suddenly asked, letting
"You're what?" Flack inquired, snapping out of the peaceful stage of pre-slumber.
"My favourite colour. Humour me."
"It's blue," he said. "That's an easy question."
"What about my favourite song?"
"Sammie, what…"
"Humour me," she insisted.
"It's Please Don't Leave Me by Pink. Unless you've already changed it since yesterday."
"What makes me swear?"
"What doesn't make you swear?" he laughed. "I don't know…what really makes you swear? When I leave the toilet seat up in the middle of the night and you fall in."
"What makes me pray?"
"You pray?" he teased.
She frowned.
"When you see or hear anything about nine eleven and you realize what a fucked up world we live in and how precious life is."
"Very good," she said and gave him a small peck. "What makes me hurt?"
"Why are we…"
"Please just answer the question."
He sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head. "When I'm an insensitive ass that opens his mouth and inserts his foot."
"What makes me smile?"
"When I bring you tea and croissants in bed," Flack answered quickly.
She smiled. "You're good at this game," she declared. "What calms my nerves?"
"Ice cream. And lots of it."
"What drives me wild?"
He grinned. "Mint chocolate chip ice cream," he said. "But only if it's being used in an erotic way."
"Best way to eat the stuff," she giggled. "Okay…last one…when did you first notice me?"
"March 15th, 2007 at two thirty-two in the afternoon," he answered quickly. "I was walking into the lab and you were bending over rummaging through a drawer in trace and your shirt had ridden up a bit and you were giving everyone a peek at that sexy tattoo on your back. I thought man, if her face looks as good as her ass…"
"You're such a pig," she huffed and tried to wriggle out of his embrace. "Go on and ruin our moment with some chauvinistic comment."
Flack tightened his arms around her. "First time I noticed you, you were bending over a table in the trace lab and your hair was up in this sloppy type bun and there were some pieces falling down at the sides of your face. You were wearing a pair of beige dress pants and an orange sleeveless blouse. And black shoes."
"You actually remember that?"
He nodded. "And I thought, man. She's amazing."
Sam arched her eyebrows.
"I did. And you know what I thought next?"
She shook her head.
He pressed a kiss to her neck. "I thought, I wonder how long it's going to take me to tap that."
She frowned and shoved him away.
He chuckled and pulled her back to him and into a long, seductive kiss. "Was there a point to your little game?" he asked.
She nodded. "I wanted you to see that you know me better then you think. And I wanted you to realize that every day we'll learn more and more about each other. And that you already have what it takes to be my man. Why else would you be in my bed at this moment?"
He smiled and kissed her once again. Long and soft. He slipped his hand up the back of her sweater and felt her sigh against his lips as his fingertips drifted along her spine.
"Okay…" she said, breathless as she pulled away. "I lied about something."
"What's that?" he asked.
"I will have sex with you my parents in the next room," she told him with a giggle, and curling her arms around his neck, rolled onto her back and pulled him down on top of her. "I'm warning you right now though, any noise out of you and I'm putting my hand over your mouth or smothering you with a pillow."
"Kinky," Flack grinned, as his hands worked to loosen the ties on her sweat pants. "But you're the noisy one, remember?"
"Well maybe you shouldn't be so good at what you do and I wouldn't have the need to make so much noise," she responded, as he pressed a kiss to her stomach before sliding her pants over her ass and hips and down her legs.
"Don't you worry about how I do things," he said, and pressed kisses along the inside of her thigh. "You just lie there and relax and worry about if I don't do them right."
"If that ever happens I'd.."
All words escaped her and she lost all train of thought as his mouth travelled up her thigh and towards more sensitive places.
The amazing words he had spoken to her earlier echoed in her ears.
She wondered how she'd ever managed to survive without him.
And hoped she'd never have to.
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you and looking forward to hearing from all of you! So please R and R folks!
Special thanks to:
Hope4sall
Laurzz
Forest Angel
Soccer-bitch
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wolfeylady
