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Chapter Text

Sitting behind her desk at Young Technologies, Samara Young reviewed the application before her. The personnel file read Charles Jones, and there was a picture of a very young man, blond haired with sparkling blue eyes framed by thin wire glasses. He had emigrated from Wales in the UK recently and had only lived in America for almost a year.

His credentials were good for someone his age. He’d excelled in school and college with business, computers, robotics, and even listed achievements like winning chess matches and being an escape room consultant.

“Escape room consultant? Really?” she asked out loud to no one in particular. “Wonder how that might come in handy here….” She read more. He was also certified in CPR and fenced, yada yada… Despite not having much experience with an actual career, he seemed the best candidate of the three applicants before her.

She had gone to her father, Samuel Young CEO of their company and demanded he finally hire an assistant for her. Since being promoted to General Manager her task load had increased, but there had been no one with enough experience or balls to come forward for the job. Most of the employees at YT were terrified of the Big Bad Dad that Samuel was, built like a football player despite being a total softie. But it was his petite daughter that really made people walk on eggshells. She was the real Raid Boss behind the frontline, and just a sharp glare from her dark eyes was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

It was a gamble, taking on this inexperienced kid, but young Technologies needed fresh blood in the cubicle pool, new ideas to bring up by the new generation if they were going to remain an in-demand and highly recommended company. Considering that he was a UK national might also give some insight as to how competitive the field was across the Atlantic as well. It was something that set him apart from the other two applicants.

She pulled the phone off its console and pressed the key designated for the front desk. One ring and Lucy answered immediately. “Send in,” She glanced at the papers for clarification. “Charles Jones.” She ordered and hung up. A moment later, the door to her office opened tentatively, a pale hand grasping the wood and slowly revealing the tall but cowering intern.

“Come in.” she said, placing his personnel file on top of the other two and shuffling the stack into a neat pile. “And close the door.”

The kid was wearing an oversized hoodie that swallowed his form over a pair of cargo pants. His hair was a shaggy blond mess that hung over one eye. Not exactly the poster child for business style. His hands were clenched, grabbing the edges of his sweater as he shuffled into the room and took a seat in front of her desk.

“I have three applications here. Tell me why I should pick yours.” She announced with cold-bloodied bluntness.

“Oh…uh…well, I was the top of my class when I was in university. I led my Robotics team to Nationals and I’ve been a competitive chess player since I was a kid. I have an eye for small details and the fundamentals of strategic manipulations.”

‘Strategic manipulations’ she mused. The kid looked like he’d struggle asking someone for pocket change, let alone convincing them to seal a multi million deal. But he had an air about him, something that made her want to hear what he had to say. It couldn’t be the accent could it? Nah, that was silly.

“Alright Charles,” She said with a breath. “I’m going to give you a chance, but you’re going to need to dress appropriately. You’re going to be my assistant, and therefore a face for clients to meet. Brush that hair out of your face and get a few dress shirts.”

“I-I…I’m not really good with talking to people….” He confessed nervously.

“Well tough Charles.” She said flatly.

“Charlie, if you please. Everyone calls me Charlie.” He corrected politely.

“Fine. Whatever you want to be called, just be prepared to do whatever I ask of you come Monday. That should give you a few days to get what you need.” She stood up and extended her tiny hand. “Here’s to working with you.”

He immediately rose to his feet, towering over her but taking her hand gently. She had lovely hands. He glanced down at her, definitely seeing the family resemblance. So this was the “Young Shark” everyone had whispered of. She didn’t seem like it on the surface, but he figured she used that to lure in clients who thought they pull a fast one a tiny woman.

When the tall form of Charles-er Charlie, leaned over her desk and took her hand, she expected a gruff and clumsy handshake. Instead, she was surprised with the gentlest caress her hand had ever experienced. She looked up at his startling pale blue eyes and felt her heart skip a beat for just a moment. The kid was gorgeous, she had to admit. She could’ve sworn she felt his thumb linger across when their hands parted, igniting a fire beneath her skin. It had been a long time since a man’s touch had done that.

…………………

Charlie took the bus back to his apartment, trekked up the three flights of stairs to his floor and stood at his door, taking a breath before turning the key. He had been so nervous during the interview, intimidated even, but hopeful. He was actually surprised that she had selected him, especially since he wasn’t the only one applying for the position.

His eagerly awaiting companion, Bowser bounded up to him, an adorable bundle of Corgi/Boston Terrier energy. He hooked his leash and then they hiked down the very stairs he had just climbed, off to the designated area for pets to be walked. He didn’t mind the three flights; it helped keep him in shape before he had found the fencing club at the local gym. He knew that his job would be cutting into his personal hobby, but it was one of the few things he carried with him over from Wales that he didn’t want to lose. Bad enough that he had no one here to speak Welsh with and his mother had already noticed a change in his accent when they conversed over the phone.

“Well pardon me mother, but no one in California speaks Welsh.” He said with a sigh. “And I doubt I’ll find anyone who will.”

His thoughts were interrupted when his neighbor’s little white dog with large eyes came up, sporting a new cute sweater. The poor thing had such a thin coat of her that she shook with a breeze on a 70 degree afternoon. Bowser had been off put by her at first, but they had gradually come to a friendly understanding of each other. Her owner came up a second later, a boisterous guy with a huge online fan base.

“Hey Marshall.” He said with a wave.

“Sup Charlie? How’s things?”

Charles stuck his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as Bowser and Dinah sniffed and pawed at each other. “Pretty good actually. Just got hired on at that technology center downtown.”

“Hey that’s good. Which company was it again?”

“Young Technologies.” He answered, noticing an immediate flicker of emotion in Marshall’s face before he masked it with feigned happiness and offered his congratulations. Granted, the two didn’t know each other well and hadn’t really conversed much outside of their occasional bump-ins like this, but Charles was sure there was something his neighbor was hiding.

Their dogs concluded their business and they made their farewells to each other, Charles heading up to his apartment while Marshall met up with some sexy woman with bright pink hair.

Standing in front of his closet, hand to his chin, he contemplated his new boss’s orders of dressing more business-like for the company. He had never really felt comfortable in formal clothing and only wore it for Sunday church back home. He never quite liked how it drew more attention to his tall frame, and how girls would ogle him. It was just a dress shirt and tie, how was it any different from a T-shirt and jeans? Either way, he had a decent amount of dress shirts, sweater vests, and a blazer or two…it had just been a while since he’s put them to use. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed, telling himself that it was for the job over and over until it was a mantra. Better than him being forced to wear a polo and visor while serving burger and fries. At least that nightmare was over.

He couldn’t suppress that shudder, standing at the drive-thru window, taking order after order, having girls fawn over his accent and ask for his number. He’d begged his manager to let him work in the back, away from the customers, even striking a deal for him to be on garbage detail, just to sweeten the prospect. At first the manager was skeptical but eventually relented, finding that their quiet Welsh employee was damn good at finding something to clean and making it shine. The kid had even fixed the problem with their ice cream machine. They weren’t happy with the idea of him leaving, but he hadn’t come to America to serve unhealthy food to the masses.

Come Monday he would have a new job, and he needed to make a good impression.
……………….

Sam lay on her stomach as Link rubbed her shoulders. She had been tense lately and was requiring more stress relief therapy from her friend. It was one of their mutual beneficial arrangements. Though they had tried dating when they were younger, their different career paths had taken them in such opposite directions that it eventually became clear, they couldn’t become emotionally involved. One would have to sacrifice their career for the other. They both knew with that, one of them would grow to resent each other.

With him working as a paramedic and a coffee barista, Link didn’t have much time left for himself, let alone a dedicated relationship. The closest woman in his life was his mother, whom he still lived with, and that really put a damper on trying to bring a girl home. Ever since his father died, he had taken on the role of man of the house, but his younger brother Dallas had taken their grief and lack of an authoritative figure into a life of petty crime. It definitely put a wedge between him and their friend Angela, when it was discovered Dallas was stalking her, secretly recording her. After filing a protective order, Dallas had been banned from their guild and eventually the circle of friends. No one blamed Link though, but he blamed himself.

Falling in routine with his jobs, he had slowly erased himself out of the circle. The only one he remained in contact with now was Sam, and that was on the occasion where he had a night off and she wanted some special….attention. He’d always treated her gently due to his physical size and strength compared to her little frame and asthma. Anytime things had gotten too worked up and seemed to take it too far, he’d been there with her rescue inhaler or to set up her nebulizer. She had appreciated it, but secretly despised his overprotective nature.

“You could rub just a little harder you know?” she sighed.

“Oh sure, and end up breaking a bone.”

“I’m not that damn fragile Link.”

He rolled his eyes and applied just a little bit more pressure, but still not enough for her wanting. He worried for his tiny friend; there was a hole in her heart that he couldn’t fill with friendship, or physical intimacy, or even with pain. It just wasn’t in his nature to do that to a woman. She’d never been the same since her marriage fell apart. While he may be opposed to violence that was one neck he wouldn’t mind ringing.

He leaned over her and placed a kiss to the middle of her shoulder blades, causing her to flinch. “I told you to stop that.” She growled. She didn’t want tenderness.

“Sorry. Old habit.” He apologized weakly. While he wasn’t ‘in love’ with her, he cared for her deeply. But they knew love wasn’t something they couldn't offer each other anymore. One day he’d find someone he would want to share more than just his bed with. And when that day came, whatever he had with Sam would come to an end. And then they’d eventually fade out of each other’s lives. It wasn’t the happiest of places to be, this middle ground, but it was better than having absolutely No One at all.

“It’s probably time I should get going then.” He heaved a sigh and slid off her California King sized bed. As if she needed one that size. Hell, the bed made HIM feel small and he was 6’4. She was a little thing at 5’5. His mother’s house could fit into her penthouse condo at least twice over. Not that Sam ever flaunted her money in front of any of her friend’s faces or made them feel guilty that since she had taken her career further into her father’s company that it increased her wealth exponentially.

She rolled over and cast her eyes off to the side, knowing he was just trying to make her feel better, and it made her feel all the more like a bitch because she just couldn’t accept it any more. Not from him. That would lead back to feelings they already discussed and what those feelings would cause them to do-or want to do-and they’d be right back where they started.

Who was going to sacrifice their career so they could be together and be a cute happy couple? Him? Just a paramedic? Her? Slated next CEO of a multi million dollar technology conglomerate? They both had worked too hard to get where they were to end it on something that would eventually fester and tear them apart in the end.

She pulled the sheet up to cover her naked body as if to wrap it around herself when he stopped her. “It’s ok, I know the code. You don’t have to get up.” He slipped his pants back up and fastened the button. “Get some rest Sam. Stop stressing so much.” He ordered lightly, trying to make his exit less painful. She nodded and laid back down as he reached for his shirt and slid it down over his gorgeously ripped torso. He certainly was beautiful to behold. He’d make some girl a lucky one someday.

He left without further fanfare, making sure he set the security code before closing the door behind him. Not that he didn’t trust the system; but he did always worry for her safety. A nice place like hers just invited the prospect of prowlers and worse. He climbed into his jeep and took one last look at her birdcage of a house. He never liked that she had more windows than that of his entire neighborhood, but nothing had happened to her since moving in, so he had no grounds to complain. The engine revved to life and he pulled away, sexually satisfied but emotionally just as lonely as ever. They’d stopped the sleepovers long ago.

After hearing his jeep leave, trailing off into the distance, Sam finally crawled out of bed and popped her shoulders, rolling them back as she stretched. The few marks Link had left on her would fade by morning. They always did. He was too much of a gentle giant-whether it was just because of their size difference or her asthma or that they had known each other since they were teens….either way. It was just another thing that didn’t last.

A hot shower did little more to ease the tension in her shoulders. But it helped wash away his scent, something she didn’t want to get caught up longing for again. That had been a painful lesson. She came back into her room and flung the sheet up in the air, giving the air a sniff and finding it mild enough that it wouldn’t keep her up all night. Slipping into some basic men’s style pajamas (because some things never change no matter how old you get) she slunk back into her oversized bed.

The big, empty, lonely bed in a big, empty, lonely room in a big, empty, lonely house. It was ironic, back when she was married, they were cramped and tripping over computer parts and game consoles and sketchbooks of his and loving the closeness of it all, dreaming of making it big with their project baby Ruminate and living like she was now: the fancy car, the big house, all the expensive goodies…and now she had no one to share them with.

Ahhh, here it comes, the self-loathing…. she thought to herself bitterly. Right on schedule as usual, come on in and have some tea why don’tcha?

She rolled over and fumbled a hand at her nightstand drawer. Something within that she needed to look at one more time, touch one more time…small and round and gold…

Come Monday Sam looked over the slouching lanky form that was her assistant and giving him a thorough once over. He still had that shaggy mop flopped over one eye and a dress shirt that looked like it was a little too tight. His tie was sloppily tied and uneven, but he tried.

She sighed and pushed her chair out from behind her desk and picked up her step stool, an annoying little reminder of her short stature in a world of tall people. She set it right before him and climbed on top so she could meet him face-to-face. Make him stop slouching for once. She took hold of the silken material of the tie and undid the whole thing, her eyes focused on her task, unaware of his gaze drawn to her hands as she worked.

“If you can’t figure out how to tie one of these, just buy a clip-on for the time being and practice with the real one at home.” She suggested as she walked through the steps as she remembered her father doing when he had to tie it on his own and her mother wasn’t around to do it. The tiniest hint of a smile crept up her cheek at the memory.

Charlie felt a little tug in his chest, seeing that genuine smile on what so far had only been a stoic face with a stern voice. “You have a nice smile.” He whispered, standing there nervously, watching her make it all look so effortless. He knew he messed up the moment it slipped out.

Her hands froze.

“What?” she demanded, eyes glaring at him.

“O-oh I’m sorry!” he faltered, putting his hands up. “I-it just slipped out. I mean, I thought you smiled…” His face was beet red and kinda…cute.

“You say something like that again and I’ll strangle you with your tie.” She warned in what was only a half joking tone, not that he knew that. “Stand up straight you Welsh Oak.” She admonished, hands forcing his posture upright. He seemed even more flustered by the physical contact and actually shook.

“Hey,” she said softly, taking his chin and forcing him to look directly at her. “Calm down, I was only joking about the strangling thing.” He swallowed and gave a tiny nod, chin barely moving from her tiny hand. “Good Charlie, now breathe in…” she inhaled for emphasis, then exhaled. “And breathe out.” As an asthmatic, this had been her mantra in life. He eventually calmed down, no more little tremors of anxiety. She watched his face lighten from the red it once was, returning to his normal pallor. Goodness he was a pale one…

“I think that every morning we’re going to do a little mental exercise so you can overcome these nerves.” His eye widened at the thought, the other still buried under thick blond hair. Her hand had let go of his chin and began brushing the weft aside and finding a beautiful blue orb hidden underneath.

Oh…my…

Tucking the hair aside, she was struck by the intensity of his gaze, the piercing icy hue hitting her core, taking her breath for a moment. Breathe in, breathe out…. She pulled her hand back slowly, watching the hair fall back into place.

“Sorry Ma’am, it always does that.” He explained, bringing a hand up to readjust how it sat. “I’m used to it.”

“Samara Young, not ma’am.” She said suddenly, rigidly. “But that’s Ms. Young to you, so don’t forget it.”

“Suh-mar-rah…” he repeated, his accent adding a slight tilt in its pronunciation and hitting a different chord within her. “That’s lovely.”

She swallowed hard, becoming unnerved and…..aroused? What? No….not by this kid. “J-just Sam for short. No one calls me by my full name.”

“I cannot call you Sam. That’s far too masculine Missus Young.” He immediately replied with his gentlemanly charm. Maybe those ‘strategic manipulations’ he spoke of weren’t so far-fetched after all. “Thank you for helping me with my tie.”

She nodded and began to step down when she misjudged her footing and the toe of her shoe slipped on the step. Charles immediately caught her by the elbow and held her firmly as she reset her center of gravity. Holy shit the kid had a grip! He didn’t let go until she had fully up righted herself and was right back where she was a moment ago; locked in that soul piercing gaze. His hand lingered, ready to assist should she need it when she descended again.

“Helps having a tall assistant.” He joked with a smile that was overwhelmingly beautiful.

All she could do was nod. Her tongue had failed her.

“I’ll put this dreadful thing away.” He offered; plucking it off the floor and setting it back into the corner behind her desk. He turned around, dusting his hands off. “If you need anything, just call. Even if it’s to get something off the top shelf.”

“Thank you.” She responded quietly, watching him walk out. All the while she wondered what the hell had gotten into her.
……………………….

The rest of the week had followed in suit. Charlie would come to her office first thing and she would assess his clothing, his posture, and make him say something positive about himself so he would gain the confidence to look someone in the eye and speak clearly. She never needed to correct his work or oversee his progress on any assignment; he caught onto that like a fish to water. She had tasked him with shadowing Umed to get a feel for the office and its machinations, as well as being introduced to their personal software compared to the ones they offered and what was being beta-tested.

His third day there and he had noticed an overlooked typo that had been causing a whole error. Once it was retyped correctly, the rest of the programming fell into line like domino’s and ran smoothly. He had smiled proudly at his little achievement like a kid wanting praise. Samara had to stifle the urge smile in return, proud of her choice for picking the kid, and because that damn smile of his was infectious.

He had already won Lucy over, who was the eyes and ears of the main hub. She was incredibly approachable and easy going to speak with, but Sam had only made work based conversations with her. If she got too friendly, it would be harder to delegate orders and expect them in a timely fashion. But as Lucy had handed over the mail and next week’s schedule, she had mentioned something along the lines of Charlie having “eyes like a Himalayan cat” with a dreamy sigh. The Himalayan cat line she could agree with, but hearing that sigh set her neck hairs on edge. “Quit fawning over the new boy and get back to work.” She snapped. Lucy had flinched at the tone and wiped the look off her face and went back to work at her desk.

Sam rushed herself into her office and plopped the envelopes on her desk. What the hell made me snap like that? It’s not like I’m the only one who’s allowed their opinion on who they consider attractive. For fuck’s sake, it’s not like I don’t get laid when I need to….

“Missus Young?”

She let out a yip in startled alarm at the alluring voice of her assistant in the doorway. The kid moved way too silently. Like a fucking vampire. She had her hand covering her heart, trying to calm her nerves when she reached in her pocket for her inhaler. She pressed the canister and sucked in the aerosol medication followed by a good slow steady breath.

“I’m sorry.” Came the soft apology as he held his head low and timidly stepped inside. “I have a terrible habit of being too quiet.”

“Wear a damn bell.” She said, coughing into her fist. “I’m too young to die again.”

“What?”

Oh shit, I said that out loud just now? Fuuuck.

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry bout it. What did you come in about?” Her hand quit waving and then turned upwards to beckon him further. He crossed her office in three long legged strides, his lean body poetry in motion. She was struck with the urge to want to see him in one of his fencing matches.

Today he had on a simple vest over a shirt that was clearly too small, as the sleeves were cuffed because they couldn’t reach down to his wrists. The vest was also a cover for the bottom of the shirt, as it slipped out of his slacks every time he moved. She shook her head and tsked. “You’re going to need to update your wardrobe. That shirt looks like it’s more my size.” She joked when she saw his expression fall.

“It probably would look better on you.” He agreed with a shrug. For a moment, neither one of them said anything until he coughed to clear his throat. “I uh…I mean…”

She held a hand. “It’s ok Charlie, I get it. I’m tiny, I know.” She rolled her eyes. Being reminded of her height was truly something she despised. “Ok, so what do you have to say about yourself today?”

Charlie hadn’t been able to come up with anything good and had intended on saying something generic like ‘he liked that he was tall’ even though he didn’t always think it was so much of a good thing, and definitely not now after seeing his boss uncomfortable with height remarks. She had an imploring look on her face, waiting for his answer. The pressure was starting to weigh on him, and he was feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey,” she said, coming up to him and laying a hand gently on his arm, her other hand holding her Styrofoam cup of coffee. “We talked about this….In….out….” her voice took on a soft and soothing tone, warm and motherly.

“Now, I know that sometimes it seems ridiculous, but even something small can be something that you like about yourself.”

“I-I can cook…”he stuttered out with a wry smile.

“Good.” Her hand patted his arm. “Being able to cook is a great talent. After all, if you didn’t know how to cook you either lived off junk food or instant food.” Sometimes they were one and the same.

Her phone rang, interrupting the moment. She went around to her desk and picked up the receiver, hearing Lucy on the other end. There was package she had to sign for. He stood there wondering what she wanted him to do but she left without a word to the front desk. “I guess I’ll wait.” He said, fiddling with his collar.

Sam stopped abruptly when she reached the receptionist desk. She recognized the delivery man unfortunately. One of her trysts that had taken an unfortunate turn when he got a little too clingy for her taste. Course with his job, they were bound to run into each other occasionally. She plastered a cordial smile on her face and set the coffee cup on the desk and took the clipboard to sign. Lucy was making eyes at Fred as they made small talk as Sam signed her name.

She handed the clipboard back, and then it happened.

There was a jumble of hands reaching, items being brushed aside, and then suddenly, a splash of warm brown liquid cascaded across her chest. Lucy gasped audibly, and Fred looked in wide eyed horror and darted before another word could be spoken. Sam clutched her chest and fell back, but not down. Lucy immediately came to her aid and led her by the arm to the break room and began yanking off her blazer and blouse. They were tossed to the sink as Lucy dampened paper towels and dabbed the bright pink skin of Sam’s chest.

“Lucy, stop. I got this.” She hissed, firmly taking the redhead’s hand and holding it still. “I’ll just head to my office for the time being. See that the shirt is put on the company’s bill.”

Sam had one only a spaghetti string tank top and her bra, both made alarmingly transparent by the power of liquid. The pain of the coffee itself paled in comparison to the anger and embarrassment of having to storm through the hub to get back into her office. All her underlings seeing her in such a state. She slammed the door shut after entering her office, startling Charlie so bad she saw his feet leave the ground. Oh, shit.

“Missus Young?” he uttered, completely in shock at seeing her like this.

She glared, but it wasn’t directed at him. She stomped angry strides towards her desk and pulled the tank top away from her chest to fan her heated chest. In her stoic stare, contemplating her next move, she had been unaware of Charlie and what he was doing, until she felt his hands on her shoulders, and the fabric of his shirt. She spun around, met with a heart-stopping gaze of concern.

That is, before she noticed his bare chest.

Oh sweet Jesus….

“A lady shouldn’t be seen in such a state.” He stated, being so bold as to bring the lapels down and smoothing the fabric over her shoulders. “My mother would kill me if she ever learnt I let a lady walk around in a soiled shirt.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she pulled the warm shirt over her chilled bare arms. The gesture was kind to be sure, but unnecessary. “Lovely sentiment genius, but are you intending to work half naked? Strutting around like some Chippendale dancer?” No sooner had the words left her mouth had she ever seen a human blush so fast, so brightly, and especially so adorably.

He looked ready to faint.

Seeing as he was in distress, she quickly slid her arms into the sleeves and started buttoning the shirt up. “Calm down Charlie, we’ll figure this out.”

“I-I have my backpack…at my desk…Spare shirt.” He managed to sputter out.

“Well jeez, if you had a spare shirt, why didn’t you just offer up that one instead?” she asked with an incredulous voice and began heading towards her door. “Stay here.” She ordered like one would a puppy.

She made quick work of darting over to his little cubicle and hefting his backpack off the floor, slinging it over her shoulder and rushing back to her office without responding to a single glance or the beginnings of an inquisition. Back within the safety of her office, she found her half naked and furiously flushed assistant trying to blend in with the wall. He looked beyond relieved to see the backpack and took it from her graciously.

With it set in one of the chairs, he dug in and pulled out a regular style V neck shirt and slipped it one over his head quickly. When it was on and fully smoothed in place, she found that she approved of it far more than the one she had on. “You should’ve just worn that, it looks far better on you.” She said.

“I had planned on this after my fencing lesson today. But it’ll have to do.” He slung the backpack over his shoulder. “Thank you again.” He said; turning her direction as his hand was on the knob.

“I think we’re even actually.”

He turned the knob and found himself faced with the one person in the whole building taller than him: Mr. Samuel Young, CEO.

The broad shouldered executive had his hand frozen in air, in the process of to knock on her door, and stopping short of knocking on a tall blond man’s face. The look shared by the three was that of ‘what next?’ for a moment as Samuel assessed the situation with a fatherly eye. His daughter was in a room with a boy far too pretty to not be up to any good, and she was clutching onto a dress shirt that was not her own.

“Honey, is everything ok in here?” he asked, eyeing the intern with suspicion. “I heard just a moment ago…do you need to leave and go get checked out?”

“No dad, the coffee wasn’t very hot. No burns.” She noticed the tension between the men. “Uh dad, this is my assistant, Charles Jones. He goes by Charlie.” She introduced, hoping to ease the current in the air.

“Jones.” He said stiffly.

“Sir.” Charlie replied courteously. He looked back over to his petite boss. “Will you be needing anything else?”

“No. You’ve done alright.” She said, hoping her dad would wipe the look of disgust(?) distrust(?) off his face. Once left with her father she spun on him. “You mind telling me what THAT was about?”

“What? Did you not see the way he was looking at you?”

“Looking at? Dad, he gave me his shirt to ‘protect my modesty’, not leer at my girlish figure. Sheesh, I’d have thought you would’ve dropped this act by now. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“I know how men think honey-“

“Yeah, all men are pigs. You think I don’t know that?” she shouted back. “God, how am I ever to run this fricking company with you hovering over every executive decision I make? Go retire already and let me do what I know how to do.”

“Pumpkin…”

“Oh. My. God. Dad really? The pumpkin nickname now? You wouldn’t be acting like this if it was Jay who took over. It was just some coffee, not nitric acid. Lucy’s taking care of it, no harm no foul.”

“Oh honey, I’m always going to worry about you, especially after….what happened…We just all want you to be happy again.” He said in that big ol’ soft papa bear voice he reserved only for her.

“Yeah, well happiness can wait. For now, I have a job to do.”
…………….

Chapter Text

Charlie had had quite the first week at Young Technologies. But he felt like he was settling in well, at least with his fellow co-workers. He wasn’t too sure about that imposing father that had eyed him suspiciously after leaving Miss Young’s office. The man was an intimidating sight, but even a more overprotective parent. He thought that quite odd, that Samuel Young still regarded his daughter as if she were a vulnerable teen girl.

Isn’t she just a few years older than me?

Sure she’s tiny, but that’s still no reason to baby her…

His pudgy pal Bowser curled up next to his leg and rubbed lovingly, providing a break from such thoughts. It was a little inappropriate to be thinking of his employer outside of the office. He had counted up some money he had placed aside and was wondering just how much he’d need when buying some new shirts and a couple ties when he heard a loud exclamation from his neighbor. Bowser was startled, ears perked and running to his “safe place”.

Charlie scowled at the ruckus and heaved an exasperated sigh. He was going to have to go over there and tell him face-to-face to keep it down. As much as he didn’t like getting into a confrontation, he really was getting fed up of his loud gaming days. He worked up his courage and headed to the door, taking a deep breath and straightening his back like Miss Young had been teaching him to do.

He pounded three firm times and was rewarded with an immediate open door.

“Oh dude I’m sorry about the yelling thing.” He instantly blurted out, taking the wind right out of Charlie’s sails. “I just got so overwhelmed, come here, look!” he eagerly waved his hand and grabbed Charlie’s sleeve, pulling him into his apartment. Not having much of a choice, he went along with the momentum. They’d only been neighbors for a few short months, Charlie being the longer residing tenant of the two. He saw moving boxes still stacked, piles of laundry sitting top of some, acting as makeshift furniture... with questionable labeling...

Marshall presented an open laptop sitting on his poor man’s coffee table: a cable spool and bounced with unadulterated glee. Charlie failed to see what was so exciting. He was going to need a little more than a normal looking laptop.

“I just unpacked this and you wouldn’t believe what I found!” he happily declared, clicking a button and opening a web page called Indigineer. “I had no idea I had a master copy saved here…man, it’s been a few years…”

Perplexed, Charlie just stood and let his neighbor ramble as he saw the loading bar slowly fill. Looked like Indigineer was an Indie game website where upcoming entrepreneurs could post their works for beta-testing and possibly being scouted. He recalled that it was one of the sites using a software program YT provided for its need to save heavy amounts of data and give clear image rendering.

“I actually did a lot of the art for this game, well, the initial designing and whatnot. Drew up the characters and set the color palette. Man, I haven’t seen this baby in a while…”

“Why would have been so long?”

The bar slowly filled more.

Marshall sighed, his happy demeanor suddenly shifting. “Well, back when…my partner and I were working on this, it was everything. It consumed our every waking hour that we weren’t working the job that paid the bills, ya know?”

Ah yeah, the job that paid the bills. He could relate.

“There was only so much I could do on my part, as the artist. But it was…their job with the software, constantly running test after test, revising glitches…and it made us drift apart.” He took a longing sigh. “Our collaboration came to sudden end and we split ways.”

Charlie cocked his head, feeling that this “partner” had been more intimate than his neighbor was letting on. He had learned long ago that if one was quiet long enough, most people would feel the need to fill the silence and give up details of their own accord. He continued to let Marshall speak.

“Although things didn’t end well, this was still my baby ya know.” He ran a finger along the laptop lovingly. “And it deserves to be seen, to be played.”

“Your partner never uploaded it?” he asked.

Marshall shrugged. “I think she took it down after our split.”

Ah ha, so it was a more intimate relationship than just two people collaborating on the game. Charlie kept his correct assumption to himself. Marshall’s old laptop was taking an ungodly amount of time to upload the game and he didn’t want to wait at his apartment forever, so he suggested Marshall keep the laptop plugged in and out of sleep mode while it transferred the data and let him know when it was up.

“Sure thing. You wanna be one of the first to play it?”

Charlie shrugged. “I might. Depends on the genre. I’m not very good at those kill everything in sight set ups.”

“Oh there’s hardly any mass killing in here. It’s mostly puzzles and riddles and finding hidden clues set in a fantasy world.”

He could suppress a golden eyebrow from arching. “Oh? Well then I just might.”
……………….

Back in his own bedroom, Charlie rested his head against the wooden headboard of his little full size bed and absentmindedly rubbed Bowser’s back. Thinking about what Marshall had just divulged had given him a little more insight into the kind of person his neighbor was. Clearly, there was more hidden underneath the outer layer of a happy-go-lucky guy. Marshall really regretted how things ended with his “collaboration partner” and that their game they worked so hard on had sat neglected for a select number of years. Did he think he was going to make up for it by uploading it now? He seemed to really feel the need to be forgiven, acknowledged, and recognized for this deed.

He sighed and rolled his head along the wooden planks of the headboards design. Enough dawdling, it was time to go shopping. He sat Bowser aside and booped his wet nose before stuffing his wallet into his back pocket and collecting his trusty backpack-which served as his go to travel bag- and locked up the apartment. He jogged down the flight of stairs and began his walk. He knew there was a secondhand shop a few blocks away and he could get something decent without going broke.

He didn’t mind not having his own car here. Not like he didn’t know how to drive it just that….well, the American’s drove on the wrong side of the road in their rebellion to be different from the rest of the world, and that was not such an easy task to do; relearning everything in the opposite order. It would provide an excellent challenge though…But there was no need when he had two perfectly fine working legs and a healthy constitution. Southern California was a world away from his own, set in a land of perpetual summer almost. A little ungodly warm but it made for so many outdoor activities. People jogged, rode bicycles, rollerbladed, skateboarded, and sunbathed at any given time during the day, of the week, and as long as the sun was shining.

And there was a well-structured routine of public transit for those times when wheels were required. He had learned the bus route well, as he needed it to go back and forth from work. Especially when the bus route also stopped by the gym he frequented for fencing. It all worked out, so there was no need to have a car that he couldn’t really afford anyway.

The little boutique was a hole-in-the-wall kind of shop, but he was quite used to those back home. Every shop seemed run by a doting old lady or some grandfather with his grandson in training to take the reins. The environments were usually very laid back, no intense rush to make a purchase, no hovering, just genuine service. Even though there was no doting grandmother or grandfather in this shop, the atmosphere was mellow and unhurried. He meandered to the men’s side of the clothing racks and began flicking hangers aside, his eye out for something that screamed ‘business’ and in his size.

In the tiny changing room no bigger than a linen closet, he tried on several of the shirts. Looking in the mirror he sighed and swallowed the bitter pill, trying to maintain a positive attitude. He knew he wasn’t fat, he wasn’t overweight by any means, but he had the feeling he came off like a kid playing dress up in his dad’s clothes. An irony, for he never knew his father. But the sentiment was still the same. The shirts were long enough to reach his wrists, be tucked into his pants, and didn’t ride up when he moved. Just what he needed.

He put the shirts and the single clip-on tie he had found, and a pair of suspenders on the register counter, hoping it would be enough to please Miss Young. He’d rather see her smile than scowl, no matter what the reason. There was enough weight on her shoulders just being the General Manager of YT, let alone the daughter of the CEO, and being the intended next CEO, she didn’t need any other problems such as incompetent looking assistant to add more on.

He took his bundle and stuffed it into his backpack and left with a polite farewell to the cashier and trekked back home to a happily awaiting Bowser. He’d be sure to always pack a spare shirt-should anything like that coffee incident happen again-he swore to himself as he pulled out his ironing board and went to work making sure the lines were crisp and sharp. Professional looking. But that was only the half of it. He needed to do something about his hair….

Marshall was so ecstatic when the game finally uploaded that he set up to record at his desk and began a live twitch feed for his followers to watch and comment on. Unfortunately, his memory of the inner workings of the game failed him and he was not performing so well. After all, it had been HER who did all the software, who ran the courses time and time again. Hours she spent, sometimes an entire day just running through all the different scenarios she had envisioned for it. If not for him nudging food into her hands she would’ve starved herself into exhaustion from refusing to budge.

Like he needed his father-in-law breathing down his neck for not taking care of his precious baby. The man had already threatened to remove his “manly bits” if anything happened to her health wise. But the game consumed her…and eventually…well, things just fell the way they did.

Suddenly, too many dark memories crept up from the shadows and wrapped around him, enveloping him in that cold place he tried so hard to stay out of. He couldn’t concentrate on the game and had to abruptly end the twitch. He pushed himself away from the desk and stood, hands pressed on the surface, tears falling onto the keyboard.

“I’m sorry Sam….” He whispered.

PING!
…….

PING!
……

PING!

“Jesus Christ! What the hell?” Sam yelled to the darkness, hearing her phone ping a ridiculous amount of times. No one dared texted her so late. She rolled over and fumbled for her glasses in the dark, then slapped the touch activated lamp for dim illumination. She grabbed her phone and flicked her thumb across the screen, prepared to rip someone a new ass for disturbing her and finding the text message inbox empty.

Strange….then what app is getting all these hits?

PING!

“Ah ha!” she cried, touching the white notification box that popped up with the latest hit. It brought her to the comment section of some long forgotten app she had in the back corner of the widget page, at first the words making no sense. She thumbed through the comments, wondering why she was being notified for all these. What the heck were the people even talking about? Who the hell was Marshall Law and what did he have to do with…..wait a minute….

Indigineer?

Why am I being pinged on Indigineer? Didn’t I delete my game off there? Didn’t I remove the app off my phone? Wasn’t that like, four-five years ago? What’s going on now? Questions swam in her mind as she retracted from the comment thread to her own profile and finally saw the cause of all this chaos.

Someone had uploaded her game, her precious dream, the thing she had called her baby, onto the indie game site and played it. But not just anybody, some guy named Marshall Law.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately for Sam, the laptop in which she recalled having all the coding and beta runs and completed pages for Ruminate was back in her office at work, where it would have to wait until Monday for her to flip open her little computer and see if there was a way she log back onto her old Indigneer profile and remove the game once again.
Who else would have a master of her game to be able to upload it?

The quandary had kept her up all night and turned her into a cranky mess come the following morning. All she wanted to do was fly down to YT and fling the doors right off the handles and yank her laptop open and scream. Somehow this had to tie back in Benjamin, he was the only other person who had been as hands on as she was with the game, even though she had snuck parts of it to work to tweak here and there. She doubted anyone in the cubicle hub would just so happen to randomly come across it and upload it to her profile for shits and giggles? Not without consulting her first. Not without somehow knowing how to log into her profile-granted it probably wasn’t that hard….but still….something was off.

And WHY NOW?

That was the biggest question of all.

Like, wasn’t it enough that you ran off with that pink haired homewrecker and got your new happily ever after? Wasn’t it enough? Now you gotta come up out of the blue and rub this in my face? And who is this Marshall friend that you had tear through the game like a clod and wreck any chance of a decent run thru?

She squeezed the stress ball in her hand so hard it popped out of her grip and shot off into the corner of the room. She needed to get out of the house and think. Throwing on some regular, good old casual clothes, she slipped into her car and headed back to her old favorite haunt: The Daily Grind. Hitting it up with Dee after all this time might be what she needed to do to release the stress off her shoulders.

She was not expecting to see a particularly tall blond socially awkward intern sitting at a table all by himself reading a book and enjoying a scone and tea.

“C-Charlie?” she choked, seeing that familiar platinum blond shag of hair with that lean body frame the second she stepped into her old stomping grounds. He looked upwards and nearly spilled his drink. “Missus Young!” he sputtered, rising to his feet.

“There’s no need for that, sit.” She ordered, taking a seat across the table from him. “How’d you discover this place?”

“Oh…I actually live just up the street from here….in the unflattering grey apartment complex just up the way.” He answered, pointing with his left hand off into the distance at their nearest window. “I am quite fond of the tea served here.”

“Dee brews a mean mug.” She chuckled.

Charlie held his mug up to his lips and sipped delicately. “Indeed she does. You must be a regular if you’re on a first name basis with the owner.”

“Oh pushaw, we go way back. She was my college roommate.” She said before she realized she was smiling and leaning in. She pulled back and scratched the back of her neck. “Not like that’s anything interesting…” she played it off, secretly chiding herself for getting excited over something so trivial. She looked around, praying to God that there was a familiar face to talk to….only to find the tall hulking form that was Link, looking at her with a cocked eyebrow.

A gut wrenching curdle twisted in her stomach for a moment before she excused herself from the table and came over to him at the counter. “Hi.” She smiled weakly, wondering why she even bothered coming here in the first place. This was not how she expected her visit to go at all.

“Hey Sam,” he replied with his usual customer-service smile as he stood in place behind the register. “You’ll have to remind me what your usual is…it’s been a while.”

She felt hot under her collar. Why’d he have to say that out loud?

“Actually…I was thinking of trying something new…..” she mused, staring at the extended menu for a distraction.

“Why not some chamomile and lavender?” Charlie suggested from his table. Not like he was eavesdropping, he just happened to be seated nearby. “It reduces stress.”

Sam felt like shrinking into a paper ball and shuffling out of the door with the next breeze. She noticed she was tapping her fingers along the countertop with a rapid fervor until she sighed and nodded. “I’ll have what he’s having.” She ordered, placing a twenty on the counter. “Keep the change.” She added before shuffling back over to sit at Charlie’s table.

With her hand clutching the back of her neck like a lifeline, she kept her head turned away from Link and out the window, almost determining which building was the apartment complex her intern lived in as a distraction, noting that she was being addressed. With a start, she shook herself out of her bubble of anxiety and looked at that lovely pair of blue eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You seem very stressed for someone who isn’t at work.” He said calmly. “I may not know what you do in your spare time, but you seem to need a new outlet.”
“Right.” She snorted. Like I need to get wrapped back up with games…

The bulky forearm of the barista came across her vision with a porcelain mug, steaming and wafting a delicious scent. “Your tea Sam.” He addressed with what anyone else would’ve assumed was a courteous greeting, but there was an underlying tone in the way he said her name. He was making sure that her table companion knew they were well acquainted. “A spoonful of honey and sugar.”

“Aww, you’re too kind.” She replied with feigned politeness. Her hands shook as she reached for it, then she retracted them. “Looks a little hot. Oh Link, this is my new assistant at work, Charles Jones.” She looked across that table at the Welsh blond, trying to get a gage of his emotion. “Charlie, this is my good friend Lincoln Hudson.”

“A pleasure.” Charlie said with an extension of his hand.

Link took the kid’s offered palm and gripped it tightly with enough force that would make a normal man flinch. “Quite a grip you have for someone serving fragile teacups.” He quipped, unfazed.

Sam nearly spat out her tea.

“I rock climb.” Link replied stoically. “What ‘bout you?”

“I fence.” Charlie coolly replied. “I suppose we’re evenly matched, unless you want to arm wrestle.” He turned his head from Link to Sam. “Too hot?”

“Yesss.” She said, wiping her face and trying to hide the secondhand embarrassment that threatened to consume her and the laughter that wanted to bubble out. The tense grip the two men had on each other eventually loosened, the blood rushing back into their palms sooner after. Link made his exit to tend to his duties and Charlie flexed his fingers and picked his tea back up.

“Drink.” He said.

Sam blinked. Was he actually giving her an order? He sounded so….firm….

She picked up her cup and took a tentative sip. The initial heat had ebbed enough for her to enjoy the floral scent and flavor. Though she was more for coffee, this was soothing. And Link had made it the way she had liked too, as if he needed to be reminded. The clash between the two was too palpable to ignore. Clearly, Link did not approve. Neither did her dad….What was wrong with them?

After a moment of calm silence, peace easing over her, Charlie spoke. “I do beg your pardon Missus Young, but I need to be going now.” He said as he closed his book. “I have a bus to catch for my fencing lesson.”

“Oh, would you rather I give you a ride?” she offered, somehow compelled to make the suggestion.

“It’s quite alright. You didn’t come here for me.” He replied, pushing in his chair and collecting his items neatly. “You should visit with your friend after all; he looks like he wants to talk with you.”

Sam’s shoulders hunched just a little. Her fingers nervously tapped the table as she watched the young man clean up so thoroughly after himself that it was redundant for Link to come and do so. With his backpack slung over his shoulder he waved goodbye and exited the coffee shop. No, she hadn’t come to the Daily Grind to see Charles, and while the visit was a pleasant surprise, she was left still feeling unfulfilled in her mission to talk to a friend…a girl friend.

As she twiddled a spoon idly in her cup, she was spooked when a hand touched her shoulder. A gentle, feminine hand. Sam knew that touch. Her head swiveled to reveal the calm demeanor of her dear friend Vikki Willow Song.

“Vik-ki…..”She had started with a full breath, drawing out the “eeee” sound as her eyes went down from to the noticeable belly bump. “Oh my gosh, Vikki! I had no idea.”

Vikki’s usually narrowed gaze disappeared into slits when she smiled, beaming at her petite friend. “Of course you didn’t, you’ve been quite the busy entrepreneur as of late.”

“And you’ve been….procreating….” Sam nervously bantered back, feeling like an idiot. She motioned for Vikki to come sit with her, in the seat Charlie had been in not all that long ago. Her pregnant friend took the chair and eased herself into the seat. “You look well. Everything going good with…..” Sam stopped, realizing she didn’t even know the name of the man Vikki was with.

What a terrible friend I’ve become….

“You don’t have to make small talk. You’ve never been particularly good at it.” Her friend comforted, taking no offense to the oversight. “You look like you need to unload.”
Perceptive as always. That was never going to change.

“I just got an assistant at work.” Sam informed her when Link came by with Vikki’s iced matcha smoothie. She hadn’t even looked in his direction, let alone taken a single step towards the register and he knew her order….

He set the drink down, on top of a napkin and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let me know if there’s anything you need.” He said and left them to chat.

There was a stirring feeling in her gut. Why was she uncomfortable with that little exchange? It’s not like they were together, they only met up when their schedules allowed. They had sworn off love and just decided to settle for-

“You need to let him go.” Vikki said with soft, motherly bluntness.

“What?” Sam jerked with a start. “Charlie? I just hired him.”

Vikki’s dark hair swished as she shook her head. “You know that’s not who I meant. Your assistant is a fine fellow. But what you are doing to Link is only going to continue to hurt the both of you.”

God damn it. Why couldn’t Dee have been here? Why did every other person with more sense in their pinky than most people were ever graced in their lifetime have to be here instead?

Sam’s guilt was evident on her face as she looked solemnly at her chamomile tea, gone lukewarm. While Sam had never been a particularly good liar, there was absolutely NO pulling the rug out from under the third eye of Victoria Willow Song. Unable to face any more heavy dose of reality, Sam held back tears that threatened to spill into her sweet drink. “It was great seeing you.” She rasped out. “Send me your registry list when you get the chance.” She stood up and pulled her cardigan around herself and without so much as a glance at either friend, left the shop she had once loved.

Alone at the table, Vikki sipped her smoothie and lightly drew her hand across the table. ‘A gentle soul was just here, someone who is already sensing your pain and wants to help you….’ She looked down, envisioning large pale hands. ‘I hope you can see that.’

Monday couldn’t come fast enough, and yet, once it arrived, Sam wished it was already over. The weekend had felt particularly cruel and left her emotionally raw. It was like she woke up with a sign on her face that said ‘Slap Me’ and the hits just kept coming. Robotically, she had pulled herself out of bed, showered, dressed and drove to work. The aura she gave off must’ve been potent, for it seemed that the elevator cleared just for her. The greetings from Lucy died on her lips as Sam walked by. Not even the jovial Umed could find a thing to say when she was in his vicinity.

Alone in her office she slipped into her chair and sighed. Dread loomed over her. She knew what she had to do and no one else was going to do it for her. She retrieved her laptop-her personal one-from the drawer of her desk, where she would keep it when she had to work on her office issued laptop. She had just gotten so used to working on her personal one so much that it just eventually earned a new home in her desk drawer and she bought herself another to have at home should she need to be reached by email or double check work before its final approval.

This particular laptop that had been her baby for years, Ol’ Faithful and still kicking, held the entire workings of Ruminate, or so she had believed. No one but her should’ve been able to reupload the game onto Indigineer, and yet someone had. But this was the device in which she had created her profile and the only way to reach it now and shut it down for good. It gave its familiar hum as she flipped it up and on, not having to wait long at all with the specs she had personally installed.

In but a moment, the old familiar website of Indigineer graced her screen. She clicked to her profile page and there it was: Ruminate, reinstalled. And it received hits all weekend long, so much in fact that she removed the app off her phone for five minutes of peace. But the rating was so poor; no one would ever give this game a second look. Just what had happened over the course of two days?

The top ranking post was a link to a video stream posted on Viewtube, by the highly prolific gamer known as Marshall Law, with a cartoon caricature as an ID. She clicked the link to see just what this fool had done and had the air knocked out of her lungs. Her hands shook, grasping for her inhaler, palms sweaty and face flushed with heat. After sucking in a deep breath of the Albuterol Sulfate from her steel blue Ventolin inhaler, she did her mental breathing exercise until her heart slowed, and her breath steadied. She knew that face anywhere, even with his new shorter haircut. She knew who Marshall Law was….

Because it was Benjamin Lawson, her ex-husband.

When Charlie stepped into the building, he heard an audible gasp and someone exclaim “Whoa!” and looked around; wondering what had caused that reaction, only to realize a moment later, it was him. Today he was wearing a crisp white dress shirt and his clip-on tie over a pair of dark gray slacks. But it was the hair that must’ve been causing the stir.

After leaving the coffee house and attending his fencing lesson, he had passed by a corner pharmacy store and purchased a jar of hair gel and pain ointment. He had it slicked and combed back, looking polished and refined. He looked like he belonged at the conference table.

“Oh my goodness, Sam is going to just die when she sees you!” Lucy squealed with unadulterated glee. “I didn’t even recognize you for a second. Where are your glasses?”

“Oh, I left them at home. I figured I’d try my contact lenses and see if it might be a better fit.” He stood nervously at the receptionist desk. “I mean, this all looks good, right?”

Lucy flushed with how cute Charles was, completely unaware of his effect on women. “Charles, oh I mean, Charlie…” she giggled. “You look very handsome today. Handsome enough to buy me a drink after work.”

Charlie blinked several times, taking in what she was saying. “I-I don’t think fraternizing among co-workers is permitted here…”

The redhead only giggled more. “You’re so cute when you say things like that.” She then picked up the mail that Sam had completely bypassed on her determined and quick paced walk to her office. “You’ll really wow her today.” She handed him the envelopes. “Beware though; she’s in some kind of mood.”

She seems to be in a mood of sorts nearly every day….

Charlie steeled himself outside her door and turned the knob gently.

Sam had set the laptop on the pull out shelf extender off to her right so it was away from her office computer. Her chair and body had turned to face it, completely absorbed in the video playing across the screen, on a low volume, not like it mattered. Her whole being was consumed with the little screen and the machinations of the man she had loved wholeheartedly as she watched him fumble and stumble and destroy her game.

Tears streamed down her face silently, feeling her heart break beyond what she had thought capable. Was it worse that he didn’t even know he had done such a thing? Or was this just a cheap shot that had been brewing inside him, finally released?

Not until the soft whisper of a voice saturated with a beautiful Welsh accent made its way to her ears did she take notice that she wasn’t alone. In the darkened room, the computer screen had been the only source of light as clouds rolled over the sun outside. She turned her head and through the blur, but didn’t recognize the angelic visage before her, holding out a neatly folded handkerchief. Frozen in her grief, her betrayal, her shock, she was unable to extend her hand to accept the gesture.

The next thing she knew, soft blue material was being gently wiped around the frame of her glasses-which in her robotic state earlier she had just put without thinking-and followed the curve of her cheek. She blinked, releasing the fresh tears that sat on her lashes. They soaked right into the handkerchief as he carefully ran the corner under her eye.

She tilted her head back just a little, rolling her head into his caress. It had seemed like an eternity ago that she had last cried, let alone in front of someone else. The sensation of having someone there, offering silent comfort, pulled her heart off its tiny dingy and straight to the bottom of the lake. Startling; this drowning, she immediately jerked her head away from him and brought her hand up to finish wiping the tears. When she realized his eyes had turned to the laptop she slapped a hand down on the monitor face and brought it down with a deafening slap.

“I didn’t see anything.” He insisted, one hand clutching mail to his chest, the other in the limbo between them, still offering the baby blue cloth. She snatched it from him and harshly dabbed her right eye in frustration.

“How I wish that were true.” She murmured, her face red. After her eyes were dry and her vision clear, she sucked in a breath at the sight of her assistant. “My god.” She whispered.

“I…uh…hope I look alright.” He replied nervously, placing the mail on her desk.

She just nodded. He looked so….well….just….GOOD.

“G-good job.” She managed to say, regaining control of her senses and demeanor. She sat up straight and collected the mail he had just set down. “With that kind of style you’ll fit right in with the client meetings, no problem.”

His smile at her praise lifted her spirit just a touch. She was finding that smile to be all too powerful against her will to stay mad, to stay stoic and in charge. The smile that would definitely be a card to play in a business deal… The kid had charm that was for sure. Looking more professional would help him being taken more seriously than in his laid back comfort style-although she was slightly longing to see it again, now that she had been presented with this business mogul visage….

“Will that be all Missus Young?”

She looked up from the letters in her hands. “Oh. Yes, that’ll be all for now.” A glance at her weekly planner told her there was a client meeting this week with a Mr. Harris. If she recalled, Umed had said Harris was having second thoughts about the deal and the amount on the contract. Maybe that would be the perfect opportunity to bring Charlie along…

“You don’t want me to do my….uh, self-love exercise?” he inquired.

Seeing as he had just caught her in very vulnerable state only moments ago, she wasn’t sure that it was fair to push him into one of his own. “Let’s give it a pass today. Your wardrobe is more than sufficient.” She added dismissively. “Let’s just get back on track.”

And that was that.

The hours went by with Charlie getting complimented on his new look every time he ran into someone new, which really made him believe he had truly succeeded in his endeavor. Although the look didn’t fit his personal tastes, he did like that everyone around him had spoken to him as if he were an adult and not some kid. It felt good to be respected. When the lunch hour arrived, he had received several offers to attend a group or select individuals to join them, but he politely declined. For some reason, he worried about Miss Young and her emotional state and felt he should remain should she require anything.

After the cubicle hub emptied, he clicked away at his computer, finishing logging in some entry data and double checking that it was correctly labeled. “You already do impressive work, there’s no need to earn even more brownie points by working through lunch.” Sam had said, coming up with a water cup in hand.

“Some things are worth a few minutes of lunchtime.” He answered; eyes on the screen until the process saved. He swiveled his chair and looked up at her, finding their height difference almost even. It took him by surprise, seeing her with glasses on, in the brilliant illumination of office lights. She looked….cute.

Here he was, without his glasses on, trying a new style for his official business attire, and there she was, in simple slacks and long sleeves with a snug little cardigan over it, and those black frame glasses. The quintessential nerdy girl. It was a disturbing realization; that this little lady was starting to permeate in his thoughts and linger. He cleared his throat. “Aren’t you going to have lunch?”

She shrugged with her head nodding off to the side. “I don’t feel up to it. Might as well be productive in the meantime.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those women who believes she needs to be on a diet and only eats once a day?” he implored with concerned baby blues.

Sam clenched her water cup. “Course not! I’ll take you out for a steak and eat the whole thing right in front of you, sides included!” she retorted fiercely, just to be rewarded with his ‘pleased kitty’ smile that was just a touch smug.

“Very well then,” he purred. “I’ll gladly go to lunch with you.”

He brain immediately froze as she just replayed their conversation. “I…you sneaky” she stuttered as he lightly chuckled. “You played me like a fiddle. Well done. I guess you deserve a nice lunch after all.”

He stood up; causing her legs to backpedal and crane her neck to continue meeting his eye. She had to admit, he was smooth with that. He had set an opening, watched her walk through it, and then turn it around on her in such an effortless way. She noticed a wince in his face as he leaned down to retrieve his backpack, and another as he straightened up and positioned it onto his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

He sent a reassuring glance her way. “Just a little sore after fencing.” He replied, taking the first steps to get them both moving. She fell in line and they headed to the elevator to take them down to the basement level parking garage. In the elevator, that’s when noticed it…a lovely scent she couldn’t put her finger on, but enticing to say the least. Her curious sniffing must’ve been more audible than she thought, for he turned his head and leaned in just a little to her. “Is everything alright?” he inquired.

“N-no, I just noticed your cologne.”

He flinched back. “Oh, forgive me. I didn’t realize it offended you. I’ll be sure not to wear it to the office again.” He started rubbing at his clothes as if to erase the scent right off.

“No, it isn’t that.” She smirked just a bit at seeing him get flustered. “I really like it.”

He stopped. “Then I’ll continue to wear it.” He replied with a relieved release of breath as the doors opened. He placed his hand out to block the doors from closing too soon and allowed Sam to exit first. She led the way to her black Mercedes, a gift from her father, and unlocked the door. She slipped in with ease, her seat perfectly spaced for her little frame to be close to the wheel. No one else drove her little Black Beauty but her. But Charles was immediately faced with an issue once his left leg was in and he tried slipping into the seat. The space between the seat and the dashboard was not far enough to accommodate someone of his height.

Hunched up, he couldn’t move and struggled with trying to find the latch. Sam leaned over, trying to show him where it was and laid a hand on his arm. “Hold on, it’s over here.” She instructed, reaching across his chest and grasping at his hand to guide it to the side, the pressure of her body leaning into him causing him to freeze up with a spasm of pain. “It should be that little lever-”

His fingers found a little latch and he grabbed it harshly, suddenly finding the back of his seat flying downward, bringing Miss Young on top of him. She may have been small and light, but still, landing on his sore chest…he yelped with unrestrained pain. “Oh goodness, I’m sorry.” She immediately said, placing her hand on his shoulder to push herself off of him when he grabbed her arm.

“Please, don’t move.” He begged. He took in a few short breaths, mustering what he would need in order to correct this. His right hand still searched for the latch she spoke of, and while hissing between clenched teeth, he discovered it and his seat slid all the way back, finally giving his long legs some room. All the while, he tried not to notice just how close her face was to his, how her scent wafted right into his nostrils, how the ample softness of her breasts felt upon his chest.

Held in his firm grip, Sam really felt bound where she was as he searched wildly for the seat adjuster. His naiveté of American car designs had him absolutely clueless and that sudden drop of the recliner had just made everything worse. Now here she was, laying halfway across from her seat and the center console, sprawled across that washboard abbed torso of his and trying her best not to wet her panties. That cologne she had noticed earlier was all too potent now, she could practically taste it. She noticed how smooth his cheeks were, cleanly shaved, unlike that stubble from Link that would often leave her skin slightly irritated…

“You can let go now.” She said, trying to break this tension.

He turned his head; their faces too close for comfort. “Forgive me, Missus Young.” He apologized as she felt his right hand come and take hold of her waist. Before she could say anything, his left hand-which held her right wrist firmly-also moved to her waist and he literally lifted her off his body and set her back into her seat. It was not without pain, but at least she wasn’t applying her bodyweight onto any spot in particular, which he feared he would’ve accidently lashed out in reflex.

Dumbfounded, Sam found herself silent and taking what just happened in for a moment to process as she positioned her bottom into the patent leather seat. She slid the seatbelt over and revved the engine, not even sparing a side eye glance to see if Charlie had buckled himself in before she put the gear in reverse, peeling out of her spot and out of the parking garage.

‘That was awkward as hell’ she thought as she zipped through LA lunch traffic and came to nearest bistro without so much as a single word spoken between them. The silence did nothing to ease the awkwardness. But at least they weren’t making it worst by saying anything embarrassingly stupid either. They were both still silent as they exited the vehicle, Sam handing her keys to the valet without a word. But that second delay was all Charlie needed to get to the door first and open it for her.

‘Probably just trying to make up for the whole seat fiasco’ she thought as the host led them to a table. But then, Charlie had graciously taken the chair from him and insisted that he pull it out for her, to her chagrin. She of course acquiesced and sat and took an offered menu. They sat in more silence as glasses of water were brought, along with breadsticks until the waiters stepped away.

“This is a nice place…” he stated in a nervous glance around the room.

“Yeah, I used to be intimidated by places like these at first.” She said dryly, eyes on her menu. Was she really going to have to order a steak like she had boasted about doing? He seemed like the type to hold her to her word. But it had been a while since she’d had a steak…so maybe she should just go and order one and be done with it.

“I can’t imagine you being intimidated by a room full of people at dining tables.”

“Oh?” she inquired, glancing over her menu. “Then why are you?”

He opened his mouth but had no words to parry with. She had certainly turned the table on him. All he could do was smile sheepishly and bring the menu back up to cover his red face. A waiter came by and took their orders a moment later as he set tiny servings of salad down and offered fresh cracked black pepper-to which Charles refused.
“Did you ever get to speak with your friend the other day?” he asked, shuffling the lettuce around on the small plate.

“Actually,” she took in a breath. “I did, but not the one I initially came to see.” She took a bite to prevent saying anything further. That was one conversation she didn’t want to revise again.

“I suppose you didn’t get to lift that weight off your shoulders after all then.” He remarked before also taking a bite of his salad. It was best he probably didn’t say anything further. That run-in felt a little too kismet for his taste. They ate their salads too quickly for comfort, faced again with awkward silence and having nothing left but either bread to fill the silence with, or words.

Finally, a question formulated in her head. “What do you carry in your pack?” she had noted it was a little heavy when she hefted it up last week.

“Oh that.” He said, relieved to have something to say. “Fencing gear; the jacket, plastron, and breeches I need to wear. Oh the plastron-”

“I know what a plastron is.” She interrupted, immediately regretting it because unless one was acquainted with fencing, one normally wouldn’t. The look he gave her was that of surprise, not just of her claim, but her tone.

She sighed, “I know…I mean, I knew someone who did that.” She crossed an arm over herself and rubbed her forearm in a defensive posture. He didn’t pry.

“Anyway…I carry the gear that needs washing. The other items remain in my locker.” He finished answering the question, not that it was needed. “What do you normally do outside of work?”

Her gaze went out to the window; gray clouds have begun to relieve themselves and pattered against the glass. The weather matched her mood all too well he noted. She seemed so closed off, so alone…She tries to hide it and does, to some degree.

Thankfully, their lunch arrived, and they ate in relative peace, savoring in the flavors, the textures, the perfect amount of seasonings. True to her word, she completed her steak, baked potato and broccoli florets. She dabbed her chin, looking as satisfied as someone who had won a bet. He had ordered braised lamb with mashed potatoes and seemed as content as a child with their favorite comfort food.

“That was exquisite. Thank you for bringing me along.” He said as their plates were taken. “I haven’t had lamb since I left home.”

“It’s not something commonly served here in the Land of Beef & Chicken.” She mused, finishing the last of her wine. “But getting back to your question earlier…I once had the dream to be an Indie game developer, which is why took the job at my father’s company right out of college.”

“Indie games?” he echoed, recalling that he had just seen his neighbor load that old game of his. But musing on that could wait, for now he was curious to what Miss Young was revealing about herself.

“I actually didn’t want the CEO position at first. I insisted on starting out as a regular employee, just getting the experience under my belt and help boost the career I really wanted. But, life likes to throw us down a ditch when we try to cross a bridge…” she trailed, eyes misty. “I found myself in a situation that only had two options, and I made a choice.” She turned back to him. “You remind me of that person I used to be.”

“I do?” he asked with a jolt to his system. He didn’t know what to say about that. Or if he was supposed to say something. Was this something you say ‘thank you’ to? Was this a compliment?

“We should be going. The rain’s not letting up.” She stuffed her phone back into her pocket with a furlong sigh. “At least it’ll be a decent cover for returning late.”

Again, he had held the door open for her as they exited, and when the valet pulled up with her car, Charlie marched right into the rain and stood at her door, holding it open and shutting it after she had taken her seat. His jog around to the passenger side had been just enough for his shirt to stick to his skin and turn transparent as he shuffled into his side.

Sam turned on the heater so they both could warm up; little did it do for drying his shirt. The return ride was less awkward, as Sam had Charlie go into detail about the braised lamb and how it compared to home. It led to a tangent which had him reminiscing some wonderful details about his hometown. Sam could almost envision the little seaside town and the cottages, the gardens, the cobblestone streets. It sounded like something from a fairytale.

Back down in the underbelly of the parking lot, Sam slid her car into its usual spot with ease. Having lunch and conversation that wasn’t composed of orders and office based drivel had been oddly comforting. It was a realization of just how she had let herself become so lost in her work, lost from her friends, lost from the person she used to be. All it took was some freshly hired intern with an incredibly sexy accent to start removing bricks from that wall she had somehow erected over herself without realizing just how thick the barrier was.

“You look like something the cat dragged in.” she teased as he unbuckled himself.

“Good thing I keep a towel in my pack.” He replied, turning to reach for it. And that was when his eyes squeezed shut, a hand clutched his chest, and he couldn’t hold back the cry of anguish. He fell back against her seat with short breaths, muscles twitching, mumbling his anger into explicative he would only say in Welsh.

“Ok, that’s it.” She said, finally pushed beyond curiosity and into a hunt for the truth. Her hands grasped hold of his shirt and she started undoing buttons to his flushed horror.

“Missus Young!” he cried, trying to grab her quick little hands. “It’s nothing to be concerned about. I’ll be fine-”

“What happened to you?” she whispered, seeing nothing but large round purplish and red circles of swollen flesh sporadically dotting his chest. She’d never seen bruises so large before. He had his head turned away, rain water falling from his damp hair down the side of his face, cheeks clearly flushed with embarrassment.

“A duel, Miss. One that I should’ve walked away from but let my pride get the better of me. So I have no one to blame for this but myself.”

“Did they have to hit you so hard? You wore your padding, right?” Her hands worked with a mind of their own, continuing to open his shirt and explore the damage she had just discovered. “Even down here?” she cried, noting that one was below his belly button. That’s when his head turned back to her. “You shouldn’t have come to work with injuries like this. Have you seen a doctor?”

“A doctor isn’t nec-”

She gently placed just two delicate fingertips to the bruise up near his collarbone and received a firm grip to her wrist as he howled in pain, flinching like he’d been electrocuted.

“-essary!”

She felt like her wrist might snap if he so willed it. Seeing as how he had taken Link’s bear paw grip without batting an eye, she knew it took a fortitude she did not possess to ignore that kind of pain. She could feel a tremor ripple through him as he fought the bristling waves that flowed from her touch. “These need ice Charles. I think there should be enough in the break room freezer. I can make a run down to the pharmacy for some ointment-”

“Miss-”

“I can schedule you an appointment with my brothe-”

“Miss. Young.” He said with deliberate emphasis, his other hand coming up to gracefully turn her head back to face him with the backside of his index finger. His gentle caress immediately took her from her monologue and into the power of his eyes. “I appreciate your kindness, but I think our first priority should be getting ourselves out of a situation which may not appear professional between a manager and her employee.” He replied with a dignified maturity.

And with those words spoken, a realization set in, and a blush so vibrant and hot emitted from her that he felt blinded for a moment. He let his rock solid grip on her wrist go as she pulled both her hands up to cover her mouth and eyes.

“Oh my gawd. I am so sorry I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking.” She began to ramble. Here I am, freaking twenty-seven and blushing like a damn school girl!

“You meant well, that’s all that matters. Would you mind if I change here in the car so no one else has the chance to see?”

“Yes, of course.” She turned and grabbed his backpack from her backseat. She slung it into her lap, hastily undid the zipper and fished out the neatly ironed and folded dress shirt. She handed it over to him, who hesitated to undress further. “What?” she asked.

He smiled a little sheepishly, a little flirty. “I appreciate the audience, but may I have just a little privacy?” With that damp hair flopped over one eye, and the curve of his lip on that brave face of his, she felt her brain shaken like a cocktail drink. She nodded and grabbed hold of her car’s inner handle. She felt like a stumbling idiot, shuffling out of HER very own car, but even she had to know when lines were crossed and boundaries broken. Not like she hadn’t seen his chest just days ago…but he was right, if anyone were to see this situation there would be no easy explaining. Even if they explained the exact truth, no one would believe that there wasn’t something going between them.

“I do not have the hots for my assistant.” She whispered to herself through gritted teeth, her fists clenched tight as if the nails digging into her palms could etch the mantra into her brain. Once she heard the solid click of her car door being shut and the footsteps rounding the vehicle, she pressed the button on her key fob and headed to the elevator, hearing him follow just a few steps behind.

The ride up to their floor and the rest of the work day had followed like normal, no one none the wiser to anything. Charlie had worked in his cubicle and she had been in and out of her office, taking calls, speaking with employees, and conversing with her father on one semi-important issue that just needed his signature.

“You know dad, if you just retired already, I wouldn’t have to call you up here just for you to sign a single contract.”

“Awww, trying to get rid of me already pumpkin?” he laughed as he handed the paper back to her. “I’d miss these little meetings of ours too much.”

Even Charlie had to roll his eyes at the overly sweet display of her doting father. Just how was she supposed to be taken seriously if her father treated her like this-and in front of fellow employees? He pretended not to notice, as everyone else was also doing, as they had been since she walked in through the doors just a few years ago. Back when she was just as brand new as he was and trying to blend in, but unfortunately born with a target she could never escape from: being the daughter of the CEO.

And all she wanted to do was make video games and strive her own career path.

He had lied to her earlier though, when he said he hadn’t seen anything while standing in her office as she was distraught over something. He had seen what she had tried to conceal, even for just a brief instant. It would have to wait until he got home, but he was going to figure out just what Ruminate was and why she had been so upset to it.
…………

Chapter Text

At home, Charlie settled in at his laptop with a happily resting bowser, who had been fed, watered, and walked. Now he lay in pleasant pet bliss with his pudgy belly getting occasional scratches as Charlie clicked away to get Indigineer installed, and then Ruminate downloaded. During the upload, he scrolled through the comment sections, reading briefly before discovering a terrible cascade effect had taken, with the comments and thumb down rating amassing into an overwhelming negative score for a fledgling game.

His brows knitted in curiosity and incredulous shock, reading the domino effect of vapid fans just following a trend and bashing the shit out of something they barely gave five minutes of attention to, only because they were lured by the name Marshall Law. He slowly removed his glasses, anger welling up within his usual gentle demeanor, finally seeing the pieces slide into place.

That face Marshall had made when he had mentioned Young Tech, because he had not only worked with Miss Samara on this game, but they had been romantically involved during the process. And whatever had caused them to split happened just as the game was about to debut, and was quickly pulled off the site, never to be played or discovered…

Her dream, dashed before it ever got off the ground….

That terribly sad face of hers, tears pouring from her eyes as she had watched more damage be done to something she had thought that had been long dead and buried….

He was up and out the door before he even realized it, pounding on Marshall’s door with a ferocity he didn’t know he possessed, hollering his neighbor’s name in a tone that would not be ignored. His hands were clenched in fists when the door opened, and not even the obviously upset face of Marshall was going to take the edge off.

“You tosser. How could you?” he demanded immediately, facing the man he was now considering an enemy. “I thought you loved that game, so how could you trash it so pitifully and do that to her?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Marshall broke into his defense, voice strained. “The more I got into it the more it all just became too much….everything came back so hard….and I realized how little I actually knew about the game after all.” He was on the verge of tears.

“Do you know WHO I work for? I work FOR HER.” He emphasized heavily. “I had to see her heart break all over again as she sat and watched that pitiful review of yours!” Charlie felt rage boil up, take over, and shove both his hands against Marshall’s chest. “You might as well have walked right into the office and slapped her with that little act!” He pushed him again, this time knocking the man backwards and onto the floor.

“I took down the video! I’ve tried contacting them to wipe the review board. It was all an accident!” Marshall sobbed in honest guilt. He didn’t even try to get off the floor. “I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt her again! I fucked up bad enough before….”

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t knock your block off.” Charlie seethed in a dark tone, ready for a fight.

“Go ahead.” Marshall agreed in a dejected whimper, “I deserve it. That and then some. I won’t even fight back.”

If there was one thing that he could’ve said to talk himself out of a beating, it was that. Charlie felt his fists soon unclenched and his resolve wither. He would never hit an opponent unwilling to defend themselves. There was no honor in such an act. That was something left only for bullies. He released a pent up sigh and bent low to offer his hand at the prone form of Marshall, who of course squinted and expected to receive a smacking.

“Get off the floor.” Charlie ordered, grabbing hold of his arm. “You don’t need a beating if you already feel this bad.” Even though if felt like a punch all over again to his sore spots across his chest, he pulled Marshall back onto his feet. He held back the pain, not needing the depressed fool to feel even worse for something he had no control over.

“For a man threatening to kick my ass, you’re not doing a very good job of it.” Marshall joked, once back on his feet and readjusting his sweatshirt.

“Don’t tempt me. The English are always up for a brawl.” Charlie quipped back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a game to play and hopefully undo some of the damage you’ve done.” He turned on his heel and left, not giving Marshall a chance to respond.

Back inside his apartment he was too keyed up to focus on the game and instead stormed around the kitchen, pacing, slamming his hand down on the counter, and startling Bowser into hiding. Too many emotions swirled with him, each fighting with each other for supremacy, Rage being the dominant contender. He ranted to himself in a mixture of English, Welsh and French in a linguistic tangle that would have his mother blushing.

In an attempt to calm down he pulled a drinking glass from the cabinet and ran it under the tap. He noticed his hand was shaking as he held the tumbler style drinking receptacle as he brought it to his lips. Barely enough water had passed his lips when there was a bristling crack and water gushed down his arms and the front of his clothing, spilling down onto the sink and counter in a sparkling rain of water and glass shards.

“Cachu!” he swore, stepping back from the unexpected mess. He was going to have to get control of these unfamiliar emotions. This was not like him at all. After all, what had happened between Marshall and Miss Samara was not any of his business. What happened this weekend was not anything he could have prevented or foreseen. What happened today…what he had unfortunately witnessed…he couldn’t just let that go. Was that what was driving this burning force from within? Because he had seen her tears? Was this merely a knee jerk response to some old fashioned sentiment to assist a lady in need?

Lost in the maelstrom of thought, his hand had slipped whilst grabbing at the broken glass and felt a sharp sting across his palm. Fire erupted the length of his arm, rattled in his brain, and shot back down again before the first drop of blood hit the floor. Suddenly his once pristine clean white countertop was haphazardly painted in splotches of crimson as he immediately stuck his hand under the faucet and turned on the cold water. The pain that followed had him biting his lip and kicking his cabinet doors until the cold liquid had done its job and forced the torn flesh to begin coagulating. The hand trembled uncontrollably, the cold shock only adding to the pain factor.

“First the chest, now this. With the rate I’m going I’ll have a broken leg by the end of the week. “

He grabbed a kitchen hand towel and wrapped up the tender palm. After securing the cloth against the wound he shuffled over to his trusty backpack and reached in one of the smaller pockets for the rolled bandage he usually carried. Fencers always had to protect and secure their wrists. This would surely be a setback, but worrying about that could come later. He wrapped the Elastoplast around the washcloth tightly to prevent further bleeding and then set to the task of carefully retrieving the rest of the glass with the broom and dust pan.

There was no telling if he got every piece, but at least there was nothing noticeable for Bowser to potentially injure himself with. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to his little companion. His sole friend here in America. A few squirts of a bleach cleaner took care of the blood. The whole ordeal had definitely set his Rage back to the bench, his Responsibility kicking into full gear, taking care of what was most important. After all, there was no one else around to do it.

The adrenaline fueling him had finally ebbed and he dragged himself to his bedroom and hunched his knees up, bracing the laptop in his lap and entering the game. His slid his left hand’s index finger across the mousepad as his right hand rested. Focusing on the game soon made him forget the pain. He was instantly taken in by the interactive characters and options for the MC to make, as well as the different ways to save. Before he realized it, the room had grown dark and the stars danced outside his window. A growl gurgled in his stomach, strong enough to finally take his focus off the screen and register that yes, it had indeed come from him. He looked around his bedroom in disbelief to see how late it had become.

He meandered to the kitchen and was weary of his step when he opened the fridge, seeing there weren’t too many options in there. Payday was soon, that’s all that mattered. A butty for dinner would suffice. It was no masterpiece and goodness if his mother ever found out he was scraping by on such meager tidings currently he’d certainly be in for it for sure. She’d insist on sending money and as many dry goods as she could cram into a care package for him. One simply did not refuse their sole parent. Especially when, well a care package would be helpful…

There had not been a time in his life when he had acquired two substantial injuries consecutively from two different sources. The bruises would heal, they were just fencing jabs after all, but the cut was something else. He’d see to it in the morning, see if was as bad as it felt. Not one to take the trouble to go see a doctor he couldn’t afford, with no insurance to boot, miss the day’s pay mostly in the waiting room, just to be told it was something he could’ve tended to on his own, he was just going to take some ibuprofen and go to bed.
……………

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Sam was admiring the light blue linen cloth that had earlier wiped her tears. She had gone the whole day with it stuffed in her pocket, none the wiser. Completely forgotten by the both of them. Now here it was in the evening and she had emptied her pockets of the essentials; her phone and inhaler, and felt an unfamiliar bundle. At first it didn’t register, the origins of the handkerchief, but its familiar color brought the memory back to her before she was prepared for the overwhelming sensation it would leave her with.

Her knees had gone weak, a little flutter in the pit of her stomach, and a faint heat rose in her cheeks. Her body moved of its own accord, sitting her down before she could fall down. The folded square of linen was wrinkled from being in her pocket, but otherwise still intact. Though her eyes were staring right in its direction, she was seeing something-or someone else instead; His eyes, full of concern, without their glasses for once, his hair slicked back, his button up shirt and new tie…

He had transformed his look in the course of a single weekend at her request, coming in looking his best, only for him to come in and see her at her worst.

Had that been anybody else in the whole building, the gossip mill would’ve spilled over in minutes. Not that it wouldn’t have been out of concern, for most everyone there considered each other family and had seen her grow from meek IT developer into their manager. Someone would’ve eventually come up to with a mug of coffee and would ask if she was alright, someone would place a well-meaning hand on her arm and tell her ‘it would get better’ without even knowing the depth of the damage, but still hoping their words would be enough. And heaven forbid if her father had found out…

Only his suspicions of his former son-in-law would’ve been right on the money. And then Samuel J. Young would’ve gone on a head hunt and used any means necessary to find where Benjamin was living now and throttle him with his bare hands.

Not that the image wasn’t comforting for a split second…

She shook her head clear of the thoughts and opened her nightstand drawer, pausing to see her wedding band secure on its little golden chain, gleaming right at her. Like it was mocking her. There were so many times she had contemplated getting rid of it. Taking it to a pawn shop. Selling it back to the jeweler it was purchased from. Going down to the boardwalk and tossing it into the sea. There were so many options, none of them fulfilling enough. She had even considered handing it to her friend Abraham Calhoun so he could melt it in his biology class to the fascination and education of his students.

But each thought of disposal was only as satisfying as the next daydream. The next time she would see it, she’d be overcome with longing to feel it on her finger again. Just that little bit of weight that made a significant change to her life entirely. How men finally took notice, the glint of gold telling them she was spoken for and adored. It somehow had attracted more attention after its placement than all her years before.

She tossed the handkerchief over the golden cluster of metal and pushed the drawer shut. Neither man that those two items were associated with needed to be on her mind right now. She undressed fully and stepped into her glorious shower, large enough for a handful of people-at once-and had been one of the several places around her condo that she had given into carnal pleasures. Tonight though, it was a solo performance, just hot water and hands.

Draped in an Egyptian cotton bathrobe, hair dripping in dark ringlets, she wandered down to her kitchen to search for the perfect comfort snack. The steak she had devoured over lunch had satisfied her well into these hours after work, enough that she didn’t need to cook a brand new meal, but leaving her stomach aching for just a nibble of something. Living alone was both a blessing and curse. Meals for one were always a gamble of either not being enough or being too much, left to become pitiful leftovers that often went bad more than she’d like to admit.

“Maybe I should get a dog.” She said out loud, in response to a question not asked. It hadn’t been the first time the thought had crossed her mind. But would she be able to give it adequate care when she was gone more often than home? A puppy would require training and constant companionship. An older dog would have already an established personality and quirks that may end up being more than she bargained for. And those geriatric dogs wouldn’t be worth the trouble, living just long enough to create a bond and then passing away too soon.

No, not like I need my heart broken like that, she told herself as she settled for some cheese and green grapes.

She took her plate off to her living room/home office and languidly settled into her loveseat where her home laptop resided on its own tray table. She had personally modified this little number too, overclocking its specs and settings to her own preferences. It could handle anything she threw at it, even all the data for ruminate if she wanted a backup. She checked the Indigineer website against her better judgment and clicked over to her profile. The link for the Marshall Law review had been removed. Curious, she strolled down the comments once again, going further than she had originally. Once the video had been removed, the majority of the hate comments ended, although the video was still being mentioned by those who had seen it.

‘You should’ve seen his face right before he ended the stream, he looked like he was gonna cry’

‘DuDe, whatever happened with that game had him sp00ked. Nvr seen him so rattled B4’

‘thought I heard him say he worked with its creator. If he did, those 2 are gonna fight for sure’

‘I went through and played it again and found it exciting. I don’t see why everyone is hating on such an interesting twist!’

Her hand froze. Someone out there had given it a second chance? And gave it an 8 out of 10? Bless that little soul. Just when she considered erasing Ruminate off the face of the earth all together, there was a little ray of hope. Another comment caught her attention from a user only known as RedDragon.

‘Rather than blindly following a trend of automatically disliking this game and belittling its creator, I dare any of you so called beta testers out there to forget the Marshall Law video and play this for yourself. If someone who claims to want a challenge, a twist on a genre, and to be mentally stimulated should find this particular game a fascinating break from the real world. Ruminate on that if you will.’

A skip to her heartbeat followed that powerful statement, sitting there winded by words she wished she could hear rather than read. Whoever this was, they were absolutely taken into the world she had created and even understood the meaning of its title. A tear formed in the corner of her eye, a wistful smile on her lips. She couldn’t take down her game if there was someone out there who felt so passionately about it. Someone willing to stand on a soapbox and sing its praises to a misinformed crowd. Someone out there who had just reignited the flame for her old dream, her old self begging to be released from the cage she had been locked in.

Chapter Text

After reading that beautiful display of compassion about her game, Sam clicked on the username RedDragon and was immediately taken to the account, which was surprisingly blank. She had pegged the person to have played other games, or have more to their profile than just their username and profile picture-which was, the face of a red dragon.

Must be someone new to the site themselves…

She inhaled, summoning the courage to write a thank you note to a complete stranger, who may or may not ever read it. For a brief moment, she was reminded of her early days at Young Tech, when she would correspond with clients via email only. That was nerve wracking enough. Now she spoke to them either in person, through video chat, or over a conference call. My how the times they are a changing…

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: thank you reddragon for your kind words. You are one of the few here that have given this game a fair chance. I was going to remove it again once and for all until I read your comment. I’d love to know what you think when you do complete it.

Hoping it wasn’t too sappy, she reread it twice before hitting ENTER and sending the message. She placed a hand to her overwhelmed and warm forehead in comfort, wondering if keeping it on the site was truly the best option, for it could receive further scathing results, when the shock of her life hit as she saw that RedDragon was responding.

What? They’re online? She swivelled her head towards the clock and saw the time. It could be considered late by her standards, regardless of wherever they were in the world. They could be in France for all she knew.

RedDragon: nothing pleases me more than to hear that my words have reached you. I was afraid you would remove it before I got the chance to complete my run. I have been at this for hours and loving every minute of it.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: oh you don’t need to binge for my sake; I’ll keep it on this site as long as you need.

Wait, why am I even promising to do this? Am I that desperate?

RedDragon: thank you kindly ma’am

Ma’am? How do they know I’m female? Oh wait….my profile pic is my old World of Warquest character, as well as the name….Duh…

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: you’re awfully polite for someone beta testing an indie game

RedDragon: would you rather I swear and use the word “dude” in every other sentence?

She snorted a chuckle through her nostrils, glad she hadn’t been taking a drink at that exact moment. Hearing something like that certainly eased her anxiety over conversing with this unknown person.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I rather like the way you talk, it is refreshing. Where I live everyone uses Dude as a gender neutral pronoun.

RedDragon: Where I’m from, we are taught to treat a lady with respect. I find it appalling that so many American women are used to being disrespected.

Wow. That hit home, she thought with a start. And it wasn’t even a joke, everywhere she went she was faced with men who thought they knew better, merely based on their gender. It’s not like a woman got her freaking degree from the bottom of a Cracker Jack box and was utterly clueless in her field. It angered her so much to see hard working women be sidelined in lieu of a less qualified man. She’d seen to it to prove to everyone-including herself-that she was just as competent if not better than her male co-workers and peers.

RedDragon: I particularly love your Siren’s Riddle. I actually had to pull out my keyboard and play a few keys just to make sure I was correct.

She was pulled from her train of thought as her companion continued conversing.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: oh you play? I bet that came in handy!

RedDragon: years of piano have served me well.

Sam smiled. She had always admired those who were talented enough to sing, to play even one instrument, let alone if they were gifted in many, those who could draw, and the ones that were able to handle painting those incredibly detailed fantasy figures for roleplaying games. It seemed that everyone she had met in college possessed a plethora of talents outside of their major. She would sit at her computer and overhear their ruckus laughter as they shared their gifts, sometimes cajoling each other in good natured humor.

Dee would concoct her brewing skills and serve little coffee and tea parties for everyone to be little guinea pigs to as they would sit and sketch, strum guitars, practice origami…Their dorm was constantly filled with people coming and going.

And then there was that one day when HE walked through the door, invited by a friend of a friend, sketchbook in hand, hair a cute shaggy mess that partially covered his narrowed eyes.

College was never the same since.

RedDragon: I hope I haven’t bored you…you must be getting tired now. After all, it is late.

Sam shook her head and inhaled, pushing the fond memories deep down back into the Pit of Longing and ran her fingers nimbly across her laptops’ keyboard.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: while it is late, you are not boring me in the slightest. This conversation has been one of the best things to happen all week.

RedDragon: only one of? Sounds like you’ve had quite the week.

She could’ve sworn she hear the chuckle implied with that quip.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

RedDragon: Try me. I’m a good listener.

Another smiled crossed her lips as she suddenly felt some bricks crumble out of her wall and tumble to the ground. Surely it couldn’t hurt, since they didn’t know each other, Right? As long as she kept the details vague enough…it’d be nice to actually let loose and just talk. Something she hadn’t been doing much of lately, and then with those she used to confine in. Heck, Angela wasn’t even in the country right now, tearing through the competition in her martial arts tournament. Her brief encounter with Vikki had been too jarring for comfort. And if she started talking with Link about things….well, that was a bridge already crossed and burned before.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: you’ll think I live in some made for TV drama with everything I’ve been through. Heck, I can’t even believe some of it myself.

RedDragon: aren’t we all living in our own made for TV drama in some way?

Touché.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I guess you’re right about that…..I haven’t been talking with anyone recently, it’s like…they abandoned me, or I abandoned them. I don’t even know. You wouldn’t even recognize me; if you had known me just a few years ago, to the person I am now.

RedDragon: perhaps not, but have your friends truly abandoned you, or just given you the space they felt you needed?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I suppose I let them give me my space, and then just used that space to put more distance between us. We all have our own lives now. It’s hard to get together any way.

RedDragon: that does tend to happen. Have you thought about trying to make a new friend? Is there someone relatively close to you that you can choose to confide in? I refuse to believe someone as talented as you would not even have someone from work to associate with.

Sam bit her lip and pondered that one. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d considered reaching out to Lucy, woman-to-woman, maybe have drinks after work…But getting that friendly with someone you tended to order around in the office usually spelled trouble. Would Lucy think that because she was friends with the boss that she would get special treatment? Or would she find it harder to remain firm when she needed to be?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: it’s kinda hard to be friends when you’re technically the boss

RedDragon: only if you let it. Who knows, it could boost morale in the workplace if the employees felt they were more like people and not pawns on a chessboard.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I’m worried it’ll make everyone become lax in their assignments. I work in a pretty demanding field with international clients. I need my team to be able to deliver, no matter which time zone it’s due by.

RedDragon: admirable traits, it sounds like you run a tight ship. Is it your own company?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: uh, well….technically it is my father’s company. I’m supposed to take over someday. Maybe he thinks I’m still too young to become CEO, so for now, I just oversee as the manager.

RedDragon: I bet that’s quite the burden. I suppose you fear that becoming friendly will disrupt the workflow?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: exactly. It’s hard to be taken seriously as it is.

RedDragon: I will be happy to remain a friend here you can vent to. It may not be much, but I also do not have many friends currently. I too, could use someone to speak with every now and then.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: you are too kind. But we’re strangers here; we more than likely may not ever meet in real life. Surely, you would want a physical friend to spend time with, rather than some ghostwriter on an indie game site?

RedDragon: a ghost who writes back is better than no friend at all miss

The sentence tugged at her heart. Whoever this stranger was, they were just as alone as her, in just as much need for the communication between another kindred spirit. After all, they did love her game, did they not? But would conversing with a stranger really help?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I’m not good at expressing myself. At least, I’m not as good as I used to be.

RedDragon: well, I’m no William Shakespeare either. I have to tell my reflection every day that ‘I can do this’ and put on a brave face even though I’m shaking inside.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: really now? You sound so well put together here…but I suppose it is easier to do by computer than in person. I was a lot like that myself when I was younger

RedDragon: you see; it can happen to anyone. I believe we’ll find more in common with each other the longer we converse. A fresh pairs of ears to share our woes to.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: before I agree to this, I’d like to know if I’m addressing a man or a woman. You’ve already determined I am a woman, it’s only fair.

RedDragon: does knowing my gender hinder your decision?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: no, it wouldn’t matter to me if you were a talking plant. Just so I know how to address you.

RedDragon: if it should bring you comfort, then I will inform you that I am a man. But I would not stoop to flatter you in order for you to speak with me, I would rather you come here as a release after a hard day. Just think of me as nothing more than a voice in the wind, responding in kind.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: you sound like you have things you want to get off your chest.

RedDragon: aye, a few jabs have left their mark for the time being

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I’m sorry to hear that. That old phrase of ‘stick and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me’ is utter crap. The things said to us in the wrong tone can leave a lasting impression.

RedDragon: ah yes….exactly…

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: so, what is it that you do in your spare time?

She saw the little dots indicating that he was typing. But then they stopped, there was a moment of no activity before they appeared again. Was he embarrassed about his hobby?

RedDragon: I enjoy a challenge. I’m currently trying out some other avenues of mental stimulation.

Hmm, that wasn’t a very satisfying answer, but if he was in the process of trying out something new then he probably didn’t have a lot of experience to share about it. He did pop up with some genres he liked to read, and they began discussing similar works by other authors, books that had been turned into film and how they compared, and what novels would make for great television. The conversation flowed so easily, so naturally, that her hair had begun to dry by the time she had excused herself for a break.

She took her plate back to the kitchen and took a drink of water, realizing that she was still in her bathrobe and needed to reapply some Aloe Vera to her chest where the coffee had spilled on her previously. It had been a blatant lie when she said the coffee hadn’t burned; it did, but not as bad as everyone fretted over. The area was no worse for wear than a simple sunburn but it still was tender. But let her father or brother hear even that and they’d make a scene of epic proportions.

A yawn escaped her lips, followed by the lull of exhaustion. It was time to end this wonderful discussion and lay down. There was still another day of work ahead. It had been some time since she last pulled an all-nighter online, bouncing around in chat rooms, music on one tab, game going on another. How she managed to keep it all under control was astounding, as if she had grown another set of arms like the Shokan characters of Mortal Kombat. She leaned over her keyboard and typed in a farewell message, not wanting the night to end with how much fun it had been, speaking to someone-anyone-about anything and everything without any prejudice.

RedDragon: I do believe you’re right, if we’re to be of any use at our place of employment tomorrow, we should rest. Goodnight Miss Young.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: goodnight to you too sir

She felt silly, adding in the Sir, but he had been nothing but respectful throughout their entire conversation. It wasn’t a surprise that he knew her name; after all, it was listed in the credits of the game and in her profile information. Still, just being referred to as Miss Young reminded her of how she was always spoken to at work. Professional and polite, whether out of respect or fear, the exception of her father with his ridiculous nickname and her intern, whose accent made Miss sound like Missus.

Her friends always called her Sam, as she had requested, never quite liking the biblical name she was born with. Its rarity in the modern day made it stick out, with so many people mispronouncing it that she just gave up. Let them think it’s short for Samantha if that’s what makes this go by easier… please god somebody better not crack a joke about her crawling out of a TV screen again… Hasn’t anyone ever bothered to research what a name means if they’re THAT freaking curious?

She hiked up the staircase and entered her doorless bedroom, the loft design making it a seamless transition. There was no one else here to block out, so why need a door? Although there were the usual closet and bathroom doors, one on either side of the room, her bed resting in the middle. She stepped into the closet and pulled out a set of pajamas and laid them on her bed, then walked around to the bathroom and disrobed. She grit her teeth at the touch of the aloe on her skin, but it was necessary to prevent blistering and infection. Link would lose his mind if he saw her with the burns, as there would be no way to hide them from him. Then he’d go into ‘Medical Mode’ just like Jay. And that was the last thing she wanted, another man telling her what her body needed and how to take care of it.

She carefully slid the camisole top over her head and set the straps in place. Next came the silky pants. The bed beckoned, the embrace of sleep awaited. Exhaustion made for falling asleep quickly, and staying asleep. No nightmares tonight, no self-loathing to second guess every discussion she had made in the previous 12 hours. Just blissful slumber.
…………..

Chapter Text

Bright and early, despite staying up all night chatting with a kindred spirit, Sam was up, rested, and carefully selecting something to wear that would cover her chest but not be restricting to the tender skin. A lightweight blouse with a waist cincher style belt and a pair of flared out slacks gave her the look of a woman in charge and fashionably sensible.

Standing in front of her mirror, she contemplated her look. Setting her glasses on her, taking them off, putting them back again….Oddly enough, she liked how the glasses complemented the ensemble. Smart. Business chic, she had been told it was. It had taken college for her to discover that there was such a thing a nerd girl aesthetic that guys actually wanted in a woman, hard as it was to believe, considering it was what she was teased for in elementary school all the way to high school.

A friend-now turned enemy-had given her all the fashion tips that she now applied to her daily life. However she may despise her now for what had happened, she did have to admit that she knew her stuff. If only….

No. We are NOT going back down that rabbit hole today. We are going to walk into work like a boss and ask Lucy out to drinks! We are going to make a damn connection with somebody! Start living life like a sexy twenty-seven year old single woman should be!

Pumped up, she made sure to swing by the dry cleaners to pick up the shirts from the coffee incident. As she rolled to a stop she noticed the unmistakable Welsh Oak sitting on a bus stop bench, eagerly waiting for his morning commute. Her passenger window rolled down, revealing a very shocked face on her intern.

“Care for a ride? Don’t worry ‘bout the seat, it’s just as we left it.” She reassured with a smile.

He took a deep breath and approached the door, stepping in with caution. It seemed that he was nervous about riding into work with his employer.

“Ah come on, I won’t bite.” She joked as she pulled away from the curb. “At least not on the way to work.” Her eyes widened as she realized how that must have sounded. She turned to look at Charlie, gone beet red. “Sorry.” She added weakly; “I really don’t have an excuse for that.”

“I-it’s fine. I trust you slept well, you have a glow about you today.”

“A glow?” she echoed, swerving into the other lane and accelerating past the car that had just been in front of her. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that, they’ll get the wrong impression.” She then pulled in front of the vehicle and slowed down just enough to make them have to apply their brakes. “That’s what you get idiot.” She snickered, and then peeled off round the corner as they continued on through the intersection.

“To tell you the truth, I was actually up pretty late. But I suppose what I got was quality sleep rather than quantity.”

“Sometimes that is better.” He said, gripping the handle above his head and holding on for dear life as she fought morning traffic like she was in a drag race. Maybe I should’ve just stayed on the bus!

“By the way, I have your shirt you lent me.”

“You might as well keep it ma’am, it suited you better.”

“What did I say about that ma’am stuff? Come on, I’m not even thirty. I’m no ma’am.”

“What is it with American women not liking being addressed with a title of respect?” he wondered out loud, causing a moment a silence to pass between them. He froze, wondering if she had caught on, a cold sweat beading across his forehead.

“I suppose it makes us feel older than we actually are. Age is a sensitive subject for us.” She replied as nonchalantly as she could muster, pulling into the underground parking lot and into her reserved spot.

“Ahh.” Was all he could respond with as she shifted the gear into park and killed the engine. He was going to have to watch what he said around her, she was no fool. As before, he approached the elevator and held the door open for her. She walked in and leaned up the very back wall, uttering “Here we go.” with a breath as the tiny compartment soon begin to fill with other commuters rushing to catch the lift. She held the freshly laundered shirt to her chest in comfort.

As more bodies filed in, the more she shrank back into the corner, shoulders stiff and breath in tight short intervals. Charlie, being a head taller than practically everyone around, took notice. Two gentlemen speaking excitedly about a television show had stepped past her personal bubble and caused her to shrink back until his hand slammed against the wall, in between them.

“A modicum of consideration if you will, gentlemen.” He stated in a low, serious tone that immediately set the hairs on everyone’s neck up. Not to mention the intense glare of icy blue eyes. It changed in the next second as he turned to Sam, instantly soft and imploring. “Are you alright Missus Young?”

“Yeah…” she shook; feeling like her breath had left her lungs completely. Being in the elevator with a dozen other people seemed trivial compared to the exuding alpha male aura he was giving off, enveloping her like a weighted blanket. It was the odd feeling of comfort, but still slightly suffocating.

When the chime dinged, the elevator cleared quickly. Charlie held the door open for her as they entered the office. She cradled the plastic bound shirt over one arm and held her briefcase in her other hand. As she rounded the main desk, she tried her best to shoot Lucy a smile, not sure if she was giving the right vibe with how her nerves were still rattled.

“Morning you two!” Lucy perked up. “Don’t forget you have the meeting with Mr. Harris today.” She said, pulling mail out of the basket and setting it on top of the desk for Sam, who began to fumble with trying to grasp it and not wrinkle the shirt. She managed to get her fingers around it just enough to bring the thin bundle to her mouth and clamp her teeth onto the envelopes and took a step before Charlie’s long arm reached out and caught her by the elbow.

“Let me.” He softly offered, delicately pulling the mail from her teeth. “You could get a terrible paper cut doing that.” He admonished; the tip of his thumb running along her bottom lip, checking for a cut. “I’m your assistant after all, you can tell me to collect the post.”

Sam just merely nodded, slightly dumbfounded. Lucy was blushing from secondhand embarrassment, yet also fawning like a shipping fangirl. Sam dared not meet her eye directly; she had no idea how crimson her face could be at that exact moment. Charlie offered for her to lead the way, seemingly nonplussed by the incident. She immediately took the lead and headed straight to her office without a backwards glance or hesitation in her step.

She set the dry cleaned shirt on top of one of her chairs, its destination still unclear at this moment, but she’d dwell on that later. She slung her briefcase over on her desk and spun around to see her assistant, standing in a soft gray suit with a baby blue tie that matched his eyes. “I hope you’re feeling confident today, because you’re attending that meeting with me this afternoon.”

He seemed contemplative for a moment; and that when she noticed it, the bandage. She was stepping forward and taking hold of his sleeve before she knew it, before he had a chance to back away. “Charlie, what happened here?”

“Nothing Missus Young.” He blatantly lied, trying to retrieve his hand back from her. Persistently, she clutched onto him.

“I didn’t even notice earlier, can you move all your fingers?” she asked, automatically turning his palm upward and testing the range of motion. He squirmed as he tried to play off his level of pain. “Is cut on the top or in the palm?”

“I’d like my hand back now.” He announced, pulling away from her. “Goodness you are nosy!” He gasped a second later.

Uh Oh.

Her fingers flexed out, as if the words had scalded her like the hot coffee. She tilted her head up at him, seeing how he was immediately fighting to make a proper apology. She cast her gaze off to the side and brought her hands into herself, wrapping around each elbow. “Well excuse me then.” She whispered. “You can just go and get some work done until I need you.”

“Please, I didn’t mean it like that.” He begged, cradling his wounded hand. “I’m just not used to this attention. Anyone caring really. It was my own doing and I don’t deserve any sympathy for it.” He swallowed. “You are kind to express concern for it. For that, I thank you.”

She returned his gaze, feeling the sincerity in the apology. Her hands still clutched her arms. “I’ve always been the one on the receiving end of someone’s medical care. For once, it felt like I could do the same for someone else. I’m sorry if I came on too strongly” She turned away again. “I’ve sensed you’re uncomfortable with me touching you. So I’ll try to keep my hands to myself.”

“I wouldn’t fight you if you were my nurse.” He replied in kind, taking a step forward. “Your generosity and gentleness would be highly sought after.” He reached out and bravely touched her cheek with his left index finger, causing her to turn her head back to look at him. “I don’t mind it…so much…Since you seem comfortable with this…even though…” he trailed off, his cheeks burning, his breath slow but his heart rate thumping wildly.

Her hands unclasped her arms, coming up to gently wrap around the hand at her cheek. “I don’t mind….I don’t know why…I just feel at ease…around you.” She felt as if his fingertip was a laser carving a path into her skin; it was blazing hot and electric. “Although…if anyone saw us…”

He regretfully pulled his hand away, understanding completely. This was absolutely not work appropriate. There was no denying it now, that they both felt it. Whatever the ‘it’ was. Like a large white elephant, taking up the space in between them-which wasn’t much. Unexpected and undeniable. The room felt small and smothering with every breath.

“I think I should go now.” He said in a low voice, almost a whisper as he backed up. She had large imploring eyes that begged him to stay, even though she knew better.

“Is there something about yourself you love today?” she asked, trying to erase the sultry purr that threatened to pour right out.

“Yes.” He answered, taking a step backwards from her. “I just don’t know what it is yet.” She understood completely, somehow. He finally had the gumption to turn his back towards her and exit the office without a second glance.

Sam placed her hands on her cheeks and took a breath. Her head felt like it would detach from her shoulders if she let go. Like her body would crumble to glass and dust and be gone with the kick of the air conditioner. There just weren’t words to exemplify this moment. Something significant was just here, lingering like his cologne. It was terrifying and exciting, resurrecting flutters in her stomach and tingles in her toes. Dusty old curtains had been flung aside to let in the sunlight, warming the cage her heart had hidden away in.
…………………

The time to leave for the meeting approached, leaving Sam apprehensive. She had hoped that what she was about to do would work and secure a big client. From what she had heard from Umed, Mr. Harris was a tough customer with a shrewd eye for not being taken advantage of. One needed to be with a relatively young company in order to make a lasting impact and stay on top of their business rivals. She had yet to him face-to-face but was used to the field being dominated by tall and imposing men, so his stature wouldn’t bother her nearly as much as the way he would regard her.

Was he going to dismiss her simply because she was a female in a male dominated industry? Or would he see the potential in her that she desperately hoped that her father would come to eventually? She was not merely the heiress brat with one hand on the throne simply by birthright, she had fucking earned her position at Young Tech.

With a jerk of her head, she had signaled to Charlie that it was time to go. He quietly stood up from his desk and followed after her as she left the main hub. If everything went well after this meeting, she could invite Lucy to drinks as way to celebrate without it being so out of the blue. Hell, maybe invite the whole damn office along too to definitely throw anyone off the scent of her trying to establish a casual friendship-should it feel too weird.

Her train of thought had taken hold of her so completely that she had not heard a word he said after they stepped in to the elevator. He had taken the liberty of pressing the B button for Basement.

“I said, if you’re claustrophobic, then why subject yourself to the lift every day?”

In response, she pulled her inhaler out of the pocket of her slacks and held it up. He nodded in kind, as if it had confirmed what he had reasoned was the underlying cause. What a terrible hindrance it must’ve been for her, all the corners she had to take and detours made just to avoid triggers. Putting up with the fear of the enclosed space of the lift just to save her the exhaustion from hiking up a flight of stairs every time she needed to leave or enter the building, not to mention another floor.

He pressed his hand against the sliding doors and waited for her to depart and followed her to the Mercedes parked nearby. This already felt routine. Since the passenger seat had not seated any other guests, it was at his preference, giving him a small comfort as he slid in. “Might I ask why you brought my old shirt inside your office?”

“Well I figured I ought to be prepared for the unexpected, like you, and have one at hand.” She replied, pulling out of the lot. After all, had he not had a spare packed in his bag, he couldn’t have very well offered the one right off his back-although, she wasn’t so sure that would’ve stopped him.

“The deal has already been agreed upon, so we’re only there for signatures.” She went on to explain as she drove. “You won’t need to speak unless the client addresses you directly, so your only job there is to sit, listen, and learn.”

He gave a nod. Not needing to speak? He could do that! Just sitting and listening? He excelled at that! Only here for signatures? Then this should be over with quickly.
He found though, that his nerves did not quite agree with the simplicity of the mere thought of just sitting in an enormous conference room.

They had been courteously received and shown in and offered refreshments as they waited for Mr. Harris to arrive. They both declined, though he regretted the moment the secretary closed the door, mouth running dry and wishing he had a bottle of water. Alone at the table that was large enough to feed a village, with none other than his lovely boss at his side, the jitters set in.

Her hand came to rest upon his wrist, tiny but comforting. “There’s nothing to worry about. Do you really think I’m going to let something happen to you?” she joked in a soft tone. She could hear him take in a deep breath, hold it, and then release like she had taught him.

The sharp creak of the door opening had her pulling her hand away with lightning speed, rushing to her feet, right along with Charlie as the semi-casually dressed Demetre Harris entered the room. “Thank you for your patience and for coming to meet with me. I’m afraid though, I don’t know who’s who here.”

In an unplanned but perfectly timed response, both Sam and Charlie introduced the other to Mr. Harris, who busted out laughing at the little performance. “Well, that’s certainly one introduction I shall remember for some time. A pleasure Charlie, Miss Young.” He chuckled as he took turns shaking their hands. “I was hoping before I signed the papers that we could discuss a few things that have come to mind since the last conversation.”

“By all means.” Sam agreed cordially, taking her seat. She was straight as her frame would allow, eyes focused directly on her target, hands clasped demurely in front as he spoke of concerns from his colleagues believing the price was a bit exorbitant. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” She responded, noting that Charlie had taken to reading the contract and making tiny calculation touches with his fingertips, mentally discovering a sum that caused a look of concern to grace his features. Demetre had picked up on it as well.

“You’ve been quiet this whole time Charlie, has something caught your eye?”

Before answering, Charlie turned to Sam. Their eyes conveyed a silent conversation in an instant. Sam gave her nod of approval and set him loose.

“You said your company can get up to 10,000 database transactions a day. But this quote includes a database called “Myequal Cluster” and the license alone for Myequal Cluster is $15,000 and our set up fees bring it to $30,000.” Charlie read from the contract. He continued when neither party spoke.

“Though there is nothing wrong inherently wrong with this particular database-it’s designed to handle 200 million transactions per second. I’ve heard that the MMO “World of Warquest” uses for their webservers and they have millions of users every second.” He glanced at Sam, who sat stoically, nothing revealed on her face.

“It seems like extreme overkill to use the Myequal Cluster for a service that only sees 10k database transactions a day, especially when there are a lot more affordable options available that would be better suited for your current needs.”

Demetre had tilted his head at Sam. “He has an excellent point Miss, why should I pay such a large sum of money for software that is more than what I need? Seems like an unnecessary expense on my part. What do you think?”

Sam sighed and pinched the brow of her nose, giving Charlie a moment to ponder if he had made the right decision to speak his mind. She slowly sat back up and stared Demetre down across the table.

“My young assistant is right Mr. Harris; the Myequal Cluster is an extremely powerful software and it is more than what your current needs require.” She opened her hand up, continuing. “However, you asked YT for a quote to upgrade your current system and though you may only use a 10k database transaction a day, the Myequal Cluster will allow for a substantial number more, 99% up-time, and a guarantee of no data loss.”

She slid her glasses off her face and twirled them for a second. “Is $30k-which is within your budget-worth the peace of mind knowing you will never lose a single transaction? Or that your clients will have access to the database 99% of the time?” The glasses stopped spinning, clasped tightly within her hand. “And though you may only have 10k a day now, I know you are a young, ambitious, and bright CEO who will help this company grow beyond its existing margins in the days to come. You may not need it NOW, but I have no doubt you may need SOON.”

The words hung heavy for a second, Charlie watching the gears spinning in Demetre’s head as he considered her argument. But she wasn’t through yet.

“Now, we could degrade the proposal to a cheaper software like Mr. Jones suggests. However, you will get what you paid for. Does that address your concerns Mr. Harris?”

Charlie suddenly understood. He had been placed as bait; his inexperience with the contract had been played upon in order to directly get the numbers brought up for Demetre to weigh. Not the money number, but the analytical numbers. While the colleagues had focused solely on the final sum of the contract, they had overlooked the actual performance of the product they were receiving.

Well played Miss Young, he thought, keeping his face passive as their client contemplated it for a moment. He turned to the young intern and addressed him directly. “I’m glad you brought this up, letting me know there were other options, but I going to side with Miss Young on this. Ninety-nine percent uptime and never losing a transaction is huge, something I’d gladly pay $30k for.”

Sam kept a tight lipped response as she glanced at Charlie, who felt shivers from her serious scowl. Something she had clearly learned from her father. Now doubt about it. Was this the look at had earned her the moniker of Young Shark?

As they conducted the meeting with final handshakes, Demetre took a moment to commend him on his ethnics and integrity, telling him that not many would have the guts to say so with their boss standing right next to them. Too many business deals were cutthroat and full of hard asses each trying to up the other.

Demetre then extended his hand to Sam, clasping her little hand within his own. “I suppose I have you to thank for bringing such a refreshing spirit into a meet. One can only hope that once you become CEO that your company will continue to make a name for itself; based on treating each other with respect, person-to-person.”

Sam beamed a genuine smile, pleased that Mr. Harris saw her as an equal.

“If the Myequal Cluster performs as it should, you will definitely be receiving a recommendation from me to other potential buyers.”

“Kindly appreciated Mr. Harris.”

“Oh please, call me Demetre. I foresee us securing more deals in the future.”

Charlie couldn’t help but think that Mr. Harris was putting a move over on Samara, but said nothing as their handshake ended. He didn’t know Demetre from any other bloke, who’s to say that he wasn’t the cordial type when dealing with a woman? And from the way Samara was smiling, it didn’t matter if he was, she was pleased that the deal went through. He walked over to the large doors and held one open as a way to shift the conversation and get them moving. Sam parted with one last farewell before heading through the door, Charlie in tow.

They rode the elevator in silence, crossed the main lobby in silence, and walked around the corner away from the building before he could take it no longer. “Was that your plan all along?” He demanded.

She stopped. He could see her shoulders quivering as a little hiss emitted as she tried to quell her bubbling laughter. “Oh Charlie, I had to. I knew Harris was apprehensive about the final sum since the last meet he had with YT. Umed told me he was worried ‘bout him backing out completely. I had to do something to win him over.”

“You played me.” He stated flatly. “You could’ve trusted me to play in tandem with you on this.”

“But you did so well!” she exclaimed happily. “Everything worked out for the both of us. They get their product and we get the one of the best companies out there singing our praises as well as a hefty sum in our account. Win-Win.” She cheered, making a W shape with her hands.

“I still don’t like that you used me.”

She crossed her arms and shot him a playfully stern look. “I had to see if you were up to snuff. I can’t always tell you what’s going to happen, you have to prove to me that you’re gonna be able to keep up on the fly. And you did well Charlie. Take pride in that.”

She gave him a soft, playful punch to his arm, knowing his chest was still decorated in tender bruises. He took the hit and shook his head before that smile broke. “Alright, you got me. But…” he added, bringing his hand up and tapping her forehead with his index finger. “...don’t think you can get away with that again. Fool me once Missus, but not twice.”

…………………..

Sam couldn’t contain her excitement once they returned to the office; she practically bounced on air on the way in. She sauntered into the main hub, right at Lucy’s desk and looked her dead in the eye. “Cancel your plans this weekend, we’re celebrating.”

Lucy’s normally large eyes rounded even bigger, her mouth hung open for a solid moment. “Oh my god, you secured the deal with Harris?”

“You bet.” Sam replied smugly. “And everyone is gonna get a nice bonus from that deal. He took the Myequal Cluster.” Even though Lucy was their receptionist that didn’t mean she didn’t know what projects were being tested, run, encrypted, and defragged on a regular basis. She was the office ears after all. Lucy squealed with glee, clapping her hands like a high school cheerleader.

“In fact, everyone is invited. Everyone worked hard on it.” Sam announced. Cheers from heads peeking over their cubicle walls ensued. She grabbed onto Charlie, who was trying to disappear from the jubilation. “And this guy right here secured the last leg of the race.”

“Woooooo!” some of the guys bellowed with fist pumps and high fives.

“Aw come on, I didn’t do anything.”

“Nonsense Charlie, you were my secret weapon and you deserve to be included.” She looked at her circle of coworkers; those who had been here from her fledgling first days, seeing her climb the ladder and soon overseeing their jobs as their manager, their future CEO. None of them had ever so much as thrown her the stink eye with her quickly gained promotions; in fact, they had applauded and congratulated her like proud uncles. They knew she worked hard for them, proved she was competent by their standards. But she had never once offered to cover the tab for Friday night drinks, never tagged along to the invites.

Her anonymous online friend had been right in that she needed to put herself out there and live, even if it was with coworkers, it was still people she knew. Celebrating a business deal was an excellent way to let off steam. Too bad he couldn’t be there to join in…

“Alright guys, enough horsing around, there’s still work to do.” She announced after a few minutes of excited chatter. “Friday we’ll get together after work and kick this deal off right.” She made little ‘shoo’ motions with her hands to get everyone back to their cubicles. After all the guys had wandered back to their designated spots she leaned over Lucy’s desk and whispered low. “Hey, is that office ready yet?”

“It will be tomorrow.” Lucy answered immediately. “Our favorite delivery boy should be here first thing in the morning with the last of the packages.”

“Good. Distract him-” she indicated with her thumb, “with running some paperwork upstairs or something. I wanna surprise him.” Sam ordered with not so much a wink but a twinkle in her eye.

Lucy winked in return. “Gotcha miss boss lady.”
………………..

That evening Charlie lay in bed with Bowser snoozing away with his little growly snores, absentmindedly scratching his velvety ear as he ran through another section of Ruminate. He had leveled up considerably, wearing stronger gear and equipped with several spells. His chosen starter weapon, the quill, had initially popped up with a label indicating it was mightier than the sword, and with its power to write spells, so far it had proven useful.

He had cleverly figured a way to take care of the werewolves, and tend to the witch in need. He saved his progress and called it a night. He didn’t want to pull another all-nighter now that he had Sam’s word that she would wait to hear his review. He considered messaging her again, but with the memory of this morning’s intimate encounter, he decided against it. Whatever had possessed him to touch her like that anyways? Granted, he didn’t have much experience with girls, but he had felt her reaction to it, seen the way it affected her. If she was so terribly opposed to it he had no doubt that he’d have receive a kick to his shins or a punch to the gut.

She had every right to be concerned over seeing yet another injury on him. Why shouldn’t she? Bruises were temporary, but a cut could lead to further damage. For someone who needed the dexterity of their hands to conduct business, it could affect his performance and lead to worse trouble.

He had closed the laptop and rolled over. He stared at his hand, the fresh bandage he had applied after getting home taking on a gray hue in the dim light. Even squinting his eyes closed couldn’t erase her from his mind. Her smile, her tears, whether or not she was wearing glasses….she was lovely. All the times she had shown a softer side to him when his anxiety reared up, all the times she was firm with him or others, showing that she had what it took to be the CEO had him admiring her greatly.

But she was his boss, leagues above him. He was her assistant.

Who was he to try to turn her head?

He was a nobody.

His hand clenched in frustration, in bitterness, his self-esteem plummeting.

……………

In the morning, his right hand ached; the bandage stained a dark brown. It was a slow and painful endeavor, unwrapping it and applying a new wrap before getting dressed. Even though he would’ve preferred to slip on a casual V-neck, he had to keep up a professional work appearance, so another button up shirt it was. It was no easy task, buttoning a shirt one-handed, but he managed. At least he could pull a sweater over his head and call it done.

On his way out the door, he caught sight of Marshall, hunched over and coughing as he fumbled with his key, trying to let Dinah back inside. Sounded like he had a cold. When Marshall looked up and met his eye, he immediately looked away.

Charlie sighed. This was childish.

“Oi, Marshall!” he called over. Marshall turned back around slowly.

“Yeah?” he weakly replied.

“I don’t want another row with you.” He declared, locking his door and walking towards him. “We’re neighbors, we’re going to see each other every day, and we ought to be able to speak on amicable terms.”

“So now you want peace?” Marshall asked. “You’re a hard man to get a read on. I had figured you still wanted to throttle me.”

“Violence begets more violence.” Charlie quoted with an air of dignity. “I’ve quelled my temper, and I’ve come to understand you meant well. Though I think that if you really want to help Missus Young, you’ll do a proper play of the game.”

“Are you nuts? Play it again?” Marshall cried as he gently set Dinah on the floor for her to scurry inside the apartment. “I’ll just end up making more of a mockery-of her and myself!”

“She’s leaving the game on the site. I’m playing it. It wouldn’t hurt to actually take your time and not rush. You told me, it’s a puzzle solving adventure.” He said, flexing his fingers in his right hand, which had begun to tingle a bit. “I can see you worked so hard on it too. The characters are beautiful. The environment, the scenery, the color palette. I appreciate your part as well.”

Charlie saw the faintest ray of light shine in Marshall’s cloudy eyes, as he had been waiting years to hear someone say that. He could tell his words reached him, despite how hard Marshall tried to hide it.

“Alright dude, truce.” He extended his hand to shake. Charlie held his right hand up, showcasing the bandage. Marshall nodded, “I get it. You should have that looked at, it could get bad.”

“Duly noted.”
……………………..

Sam exited her car, cup of coffee in one hand, keys in the other. She had another evening of restful sleep, which was a rarity for her. The victorious deal meeting had set her mood for the rest of the day, nothing fazed her. And when she drove home she even sang along to the radio despite her lack of vocal talent. That was the joy of car singing, no one else was around to judge. Even home alone, with a dinner for one, she had a smile on her face that would not fade. She had checked Indigineer to see if there was a new message from RedDragon.

Seeing there was none, she concluded he might still be playing it. That was fine by her. If she got talking with him again she might end up like the night before, talking ‘til the crack of dawn. Besides, she wanted to be able to share what would happen this weekend.

She found herself waiting for the elevator, seeing the UPS delivery van parked into the delivery zone and the doors open. Even from the back, she knew it was Fred. That choppy ginger haircut that stuck out from the rim of his hat was a dead giveaway. He backed up with a dolly, loaded with a large package. Once he turned around and saw that it was her, he started with a jump. She smiled and held the door like Charlie had done so often for her.

“Come on, I got the door.” She offered.

He hefted the dolly over the rim of the elevator doors and took a wide turn with it, forcing her to back up into the opposite corner. The doors closed before any other commuters could catch up. Each of them heaved out a sigh with the awkward silence, when suddenly Fred pushed the Stop button, halting the elevator from continuing upwards.

“What are you doing?” she immediately asked with alarm.

“I figured this is probably the only time I’ll have, I just wanted a minute.” He said, turning to face her. “I am so sorry about the coffee spill. I bolted like an idiot without even bothering to check on you.”

“I-it’s fine Fred, really.” She answered automatically, trying to calm her quickening heartbeat. “A little aloe each day and it’s all good, now please push the button.”

“No I mean it, I really am sorry. Had that stuff been fresh and hot you could’ve been left with serious damage. I feel like a damn fool every time we see each other.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I get that it’s hard for you date and all, but I still miss what we had.”

“Fred, I told you, it wasn’t meant to be something. I’m sorry if that sounds callous of me.” She had one hand placed on the wall of the elevator, trying to gain some security. “Please push the button; someone will notice it’s not moving.”

He looked crestfallen, but did as she asked. With a little jolt the machinery reared back to life and brought them to main floor. She wanted to leap over the dolly and fly right out of the enclosed space, but she was held in place upon seeing Charlie at the entrance as the doors parted. He had a folder within his hands, set to the task she and Lucy had concocted.

Charlie caught the uncomfortable tension between the two occupants in the split second before they both tried exiting at the same time. But the dolly was clunky and so was the large parcel strapped on it, causing Sam to shrink back as Fred tried maneuvering it. He had his left hand holding the door open so it wouldn’t close in on the man.
“Why don’t you back up and let Missus Young depart first?” he suggested. “I can assist you if need be.”

Fred looked back at Sam, who was all too willing to climb over the both of them to get out if that’s what it took. “Alright.” He said, pulling the dolly back. It was easier to pull it back than push it forward, and soon enough there was space for Sam to squeeze by and dash like a sprinter across the finish line. She took in a breath and felt her knees shake, but was otherwise fine. Without bothering to oversee their work, she clutched her coffee cup and headed into the main hub and towards her office.

Charlie and Fred were able to finally get the dolly across the elevator ridge and into the hall with careful positioning. Charlie then held open the doors to the main hub as Fred pushed through, trying to not brush against anything. They arrived at Lucy’s desk, a bit out of breath.

“You’re still here? You’re supposed to be taking those papers to Ms. Rosewood!” Lucy exclaimed with a start.

“And I will Lucy, but this gent needed some assistance.” He place the manila folder on her desk, not noticing the red smudge on its spine as he turned and helped guide Fred, walking backwards with the heavy load. “What is even in this?”

“Shelving unit, I believe.” Fred grunted as he fought the sticky wheels. “It’s going into the assistant’s office.” He directed with a toss of his head, “just right over there.”

“I didn’t even know there was an assistant office.” He mused, his hands on the cardboard box, preventing the corner from scraping against the wall. Just as they approached the door, they were met with the pinstriped power suited petite frame of Miss Sam Young.

“Excuse me Charlie, but I believe Lucy set a task for you.” She declared in a firm tone, handing back the manila folder. “Ms. Rosewood, third floor, red hair, can’t miss her.”

With the manila folder pressed against his chest, holding back a breath as the light touch brushed along one of his bruises, he didn’t argue. All he did was nod in acquiescence and leave the two of them in the hallway. He rounded Lucy’s desk without a word and straight to the elevator, tapped the 3F button and leaned against the wall. His hand started to ache. He inhaled and flexed his fingers, trying to ease the pain.

Exiting with the chime, he peered around the unfamiliar floor, finding a directory pinned to the wall, listing where Rosewood’s office was. The layout was completely different from what he expected. He wasn’t aware that this floor was reserved for a modelling agency. He suddenly felt very aware of all the eyes on him, all the heads that turned; the tiny gasps and giggles from the overwhelming amount of female employees and aspiring models vying for jobs.

He was a giraffe among a pride on lionesses.

He quickened his pace and marched right up to Rosewood’s office, knocking politely on the door and waited with visible impatience until he heard a response from within. He grabbed the knob and swung the door open, already talking before he even stepped foot inside. “I have some papers from the office downstairs that I was told needed to be handed to you directly.”

“Oh wow, aren’t you a tall drink of water?” came a sultry reply as the lovely redhead looked up from her phone at him. “You MUST be new; I would’ve seen someone as handsome as you around here before.”

Charlie felt his cheeks warm up and smiled weakly. “Ah yes ma’am, I am new here.” He handed over the folder, leaning over her desk. He kept his eyes solely on her face; fully aware she had a cleavage exposing tight wrap style shirt on. She stood, revealing her shapely body with her form fitting pencil skirt, walked around the desk, heels making at distinct click-clack sound as she stepped up to him.

He stayed rooted to the spot but straightened his posture and brought the folder around to place in her hands. He felt he understood the term “man-eater” wholly now, the gleam in her eye was like that of a cat with a mouse. Her lips were plump and glossy, painted to attract attention. Her crystalline gray eyes were framed with thick mascara and more than likely false lashes. Not a hair was out of place. She exuded confidence and desire.

“If there’s any other paperwork that needs sending up here, be sure to volunteer. You’re certainly a sight for this estrogen filled floor.”

He really didn’t know how to respond to that and felt highly uncomfortable. Trying not to stutter, to shake, to fumble in any way, he put on the face he reserved for when he was at church back home, any time someone entered his space and pressure him with questions or the unnecessary flattery. He stood at his full height and used that advantage to exude his own dominance.

“I’ll be sure to remember that. Do have a nice day.” He replied, passing the folder along with his left hand. His right hand had shuffled just enough into the sleeve of his sweater so the bandage was not seen. Without waiting for another opportunity for her to flirt, he made his getaway.

He kept his eyes forward and pace quick as he passed all the same women as before and spoke to none as he touched the elevator button. The few seconds it took to respond was enough for him to consider taking the stairs before it chimed and parted the sliding doors. He stepped in, shoulders still squared and postured rigid. The moment the doors closed, he slumped with a mighty exhale, a pit in his stomach.

Why in the hell had Lucy and Sam been so adamant about sending him there?

His return to the main hub had his nerves settling back into their normal zone, though cautiously on edge. He stepped over to Lucy’s desk, finding it curiously empty. So he marched over to Samara’s office and was about to knock on the door when he heard girlish chatter and shuffling. His curiosity piqued, he leaned over into the doorway he had been previously blocked from entering and stole a glance.

Samara and Lucy were setting up the office; pillows on the sofa, a plant set on the table, modern abstract art leaned against the wall in preparation to be hung up.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Lucy inquired as she gathered up scraps of bubble wrap.

“I certainly hope so. Can’t say I have his personal tastes on note.” Samara answered as she fidgeted with the plant’s leaves.

“It’s lovely.” He announced, startling the two.

“Oh god, you weren’t kidding about moving in silence!” Lucy exclaimed, nearly dropping the trash in her hands.

Charlie shot Samara a glance. ‘speaking about me, have you?’ he thought with a smile, watching her retract her hand from the Golden Pothos.

“Is this what you sent me out of the office for?”

She nodded, pulling her hands together in a nervous gesture. “Consider this a congratulatory promotion from me, after you helped me seal the deal with Mr. Harris yesterday.”

Lucy caught the heavy connection between the two, as their eyes were conveying something other than a business deal. She immediately felt like a third wheel but wanted to remain the fly on the wall and see what would happen next.

“So part of that test of yours, passing it got me this?” he gestured to the room. “I guess I performed like the perfect puppet.”

“You’re still upset about that?” She crossed her arms. Lucy looked at her, then back at him.

He inhaled just a small breath and held it.

“Well, you may not like how I conduct business, but it worked. Congratulations by the way.” She gritted through her teeth, upset and embarrassed that this little surprise had turned sour. She stormed up to him; cocking her neck and shooting him a side eye that would’ve made anyone else in the office cower.

Lucy dared not even breathe.

“The office is lovely Missus Young, though I hardly deserve it.” He replied coolly.

“As my assistant, you have a higher position than those out in the cubicle maze and will be handling more responsibilities-which you’ve proven you’re capable of understanding-or did I make a mistake in selecting you for this job?”

“Then this office is hardly a reward, but merely just office supplies for me to conduct business in. There’s no need to stand on the pretense and gift wrap it.”

Lucy inhaled sharply. “Oh my god you two!” she burst out. “Just say thank you and be done with it! What’s this little spat over anyways?” She gripped the bubble wrap hard enough to pop a few bubbles. “This is ‘bout the silliest thing I’ve seen here, watching the both of you argue over the importance of an office!”

The two suddenly turned red in the face and went wide eyed, forgetting she had been there for the duration of their dispute. They look like frightened school children being berated by their teacher. They then looked back at each other sheepishly; pouring out their apologies in an overlapping cacophony. Lucy wanted to laugh but dared not to. The ruckus had brought attention from the main hub, and soon the doorway was filled with the imposing form of Samuel Young.

“So, is everything fine with the room or do we just need to get a new assistant instead?” he joked, eyes darting back and forth between his daughter and the tall blond.

“Everything’s fine Mr. Young!” Lucy piped up with her usual perkiness. “We sure gave Charlie quite the surprise didn’t we?” She cheerfully shot towards Sam.

Sam in turn smiled and addressed her father. “I couldn’t have sealed the Harris deal without him, and luckily the last of the furniture came in today so it was the perfect opportunity to give Charlie a proper promotion.”

Samuel glanced at Charlie. He looked the kid up and down. He looked alright for the most part, but then again, so did most young men. His eyes squinted, focusing on his right hand and why it was held in a fist… “What’s with your hand?”

Sam immediately took a step back and reached for it again, Charlie in no position to fight her now. She pulled back the sleeve of his sweater to reveal the red bloom on the bandage across his palm. “Oh no, it must’ve reopened.”

“How long have you had that?” Mr. Young inquired with an air of authority that would not be ignored.

“A couple days. I must’ve agitated with while helping the delivery man bring in that last parcel.”

“Then we can claim it as a work related injury, and it’ll be covered.” Sam jumped right. “Come on, we’ll get you looked at. My brother is doctor.”

“Wait a minute? Just like that?” Samuel declared, reaching for his daughter. “He’s a grown man; he can take himself to the clinic. You don’t need to go too.”

Sam turned to Lucy. “See that the guys stay on track and take care of things while I’m out.” She tugged on Charlie. “Let’s go.”

Charlie let himself be dragged away, shooting an imploring look towards Mr. Young who was gnawing on the inside of his cheek with indignation of being ignored by his flesh and blood. Lucy followed after the two of them and tossed the bubble wrap into a recycling bin on her way to her desk.
…………………..

Sam wasted no time in getting Charlie down to the parking lot, into her car, the car out of the building, and headed right into the thick of downtown. She pulled her cell out and pushed her brothers’ number but got no response.

“Perfect.” She stated happily.

“But he didn’t answer.”

She glanced at her assistant. “That means he’s working. He always takes my calls.”

Charlie just had to shrug at that logic and fought back a wince as more pain shot through his palm when she shifted out of the lane and made a turn. The appendage was literally quaking on its own. It had been stupid of him to offer to help move that hulking piece of furniture-which ended up in his own office! Of all the irony! But he did had to give Miss Young credit for thinking on her feet, insisting the damage had been done on company property, while he was on the clock, and therefore covered by Young Technologies insurance policy. He could only imagine what the bill would be like.

With just the mention of her name, she had them seated in a room in a heartbeat. He wasn’t going to complain.

He sat on the paper lined examination bench as Miss Young stood; hands nestled in her pockets, absentmindedly glancing at the children’s décor of the room. All clinics and hospitals had that same generic “feel good” theme that still seemed to miss the mark. All the forced happiness with bright colors and smiling animals seemed to be in mockery to her. Memories of needles and tubes and pills and machinery beeping came flooding back to her, making her clench her hands into hidden fists. The door swung open to reveal a younger clone of Mr. Young, same build, same hair color, same strong jawline. Only replace the scowl with a jovial smile and you had Jay Young.

“Imagine my surprise, seeing my baby sister voluntarily walk into here!” he joked, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing. She had remained stiff, like a doll in his arms. Charlie did not envy living in the shadow of the men in her family. “So, what did the Sammy-Blammy bring in for us today?”

‘Sammy-Blammy?’ Charlie thought with secondhand embarrassment, ‘no wonder she fights so hard for respect in the office…’ He squirmed under the judgmental eye of her big brother.

“He had a cut previously on his hand, but it reopened today at work as he helped move in some furniture into his office.” She informed him, trying to keep her eyes focused on anything other than the cut as her brother unbandaged it. “Charlie is my new assistant.”

Just then, the door opened again and a pleasantly plump African American woman entered with a clipboard in hand. “Sam girl, so good to see you again!” she cheerfully announced, giving her a one armed hug. “And who’s this handsome fella?”

“Charles Jones ma’am.” He answered as the last bit of mucked up bandage was pulled away, him hissing in pain as the skin reopened.

“Beautiful.” She said with a click of her tongue. “Name’s Ruth Hadar. We currently don’t have a record of you here, is this your first time?”

He just nodded, gritting his teeth. Sam turned to her brother’s girlfriend. “He’s from Wales and just employed at YT. Can we just give him something for pain please?” she asked, wanting the whole ordeal to be over already.

“I gotta know if he’s allergic to anything Sis, procedure.”

“Nothing ma’am.” He answered with restraint, but just barely.

“Jay honey, let me do it, you’re a little heavy handed.” Ruth admonished sweetly.

Jay sighed. He rolled his eyes and gave her a little smile. “You can’t keep making that face at me. Fine, you go ahead and take this one.” He turned to his sister. “Hey, you ok over there?”

Charlie saw right through her façade as she told her brother she was fine. If anyone in here was feeling anything akin to what he was, it was her. But Jay wasn’t picking up on the subtle clues that he had been privy to and left the room. A short while later another nurse came by with a tray, the implements of torture set upon it. She too departed when Ruth insisted that this was a one-woman job. She spoke gently, her voice soothing, but still Charlie’s nerves were rattling him.

That’s when he felt the little hand of Miss Young across his left, her thumb rubbing along his knuckles as she curled her fingers into his palm. His breath hitched, his heart suddenly stopped. A turn of his head brought her into view, her back facing them like a wall. “I’m not fond of needles either.” She confessed quietly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ok, big stick.” Ruth announced, driving the thin metal point right into the center of the slice, sending volcanic waves of fiery pain throughout his very core. In reflex, he grabbed hard onto the hand that held his, squeezing it with ferocity until he heard her cry out, then he quickly flattened his hand and dug the nails into the cushion of the examining bench, tearing holes in the paper lining.

Ruth worked diligently, quickly, gently. Once the numbing agent kicked in, it was smooth sailing in cleaning the wound and applying a salve and wrapping it snuggly. She didn’t say anything further, knowing how difficult it was for Sam to be here of her own accord, yet offering comfort to another. She had never heard of or seen her do that for anybody. Not here.

“All done.” She announced, giving Charlie a reassuring pat on his shoulder. “Want me to look at your hand too?” she asked Sam.

She merely shook her head.

“Ok, well the prescription and follow-up care will be waiting at the desk when you sign out. I hope the two of you have a better day than you are now.”

“Thank you Ruth. I’ll see you later.”

“Oh you bet. You need to come over for dinner one night, maybe even double date?”

The look she received from the both of them was enough to send her packing with a chuckle in her throat.

“Good to know that not every member of your family hates me.” Charlie scoffed with sarcasm.

“Don’t take it personally. The men of the Young family don’t take kindly to others. I had a hell of a time convincing them of-” she caught herself before saying anything further.

“Of whom?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. It didn’t last long anyway.” She turned away and grabbed some tissue from the nearby dispenser box and came back with a fluffy bundle in her hand, bringing it up to his eye. “I’m sorry; I left your handkerchief at home.”

She gently wiped the wetness around his eye, admiring that baby blue gaze of his. He reached up and took hold of her hand. “Please, you don’t have to. You’ve already done enough for me.”

It was a struggle for her not to retort back, wanting to explain that she was merely returning the favor, but she feared that would only set him off with either anger or more anxiety. She withdrew her hand from his grasp. He stood up and shifted his sweater back and adjusted the right sleeve. “Let’s just get going.” He insisted on opening the door for her, awkward it was for him to use his left hand, but he persevered. She didn’t like that he was going out of his way to retain his gentlemanly behavior when it clearly was a burden to him in his condition but she held her tongue.

If it makes him happy…

At the receptionist desk, Sam had taken a look over at the paperwork and signed where her signature was needed and spoke with the woman. While she was distracted, Charlie heard someone making that distinct “psssst” sound and turned his head to find her brother trying to get his attention. At first, he thought Jay was motioning for his sister, but Jay pointed directly at him. Charlie walked over without a word to Samara.

Jay crossed his arms and only had an inch or two on him, but he still tried to look imposing. “So what’s the story?”

“Story?” Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Between you and my sister.” Jay clarified. “Sam NEVER comes here unless she’s a patient. And today she brings you like some puppy she’s found on the street.”

“Puppy? I beg your pardon?” Was this guy serious?

Jay narrowed his glare. “You may work with her, but otherwise, keep your distance. You don’t know what she’s been through and I don’t need her getting hurt again.”

Whether it had just been due to the ordeal with his hand or the whole week in general, Charlie had just about enough. He straightened his stance and sharply eyed the pompous twat in from of him. “Well now I see it so clearly. You and your father do nothing but baby her all the time, raising the bar to where only your 6’5 frame can reach. Luckily for me, I can reach.” He met Jay’s dark brown eyes with a smirk. “Granted of course if I so choose. Your sister is fully capable making her own choices. You should accept that.”

Tension bristled between the two.

“Lovely chat. If you’ll excuse me now.” He said, ending the conversation with a turn of his heel and heading back to the front desk. He was unaware of Samara’s small frame hiding in the shadow of an architectural design, overhearing the threats made by the two of them. She emerged a moment later, pretending she’d not heard a thing as she met up with him and they exited, this time with her reaching for the door and holding it out for him.

He simply smiled and shook his head. “Fine, you win this round.”

“That’s more like it.” She laughed back at him, taking one last glance behind at the facility.

Whatever her brother and dad thought of Charlie was just going to have to be proven wrong, but was she willing to risk getting hurt just to prove a point?
……………….

Chapter Text

Sam had offered to drive Charlie home after picking up the prescription at the nearest Walgreens, but to her surprise he insisted he return to work. As she persisted, he threatened to exit the vehicle at the next red light and would walk back to the office. He simply refused to go home and miss a day’s work over this. She knew she was on the losing end, despite being his superior in the workplace but if he was going to be stubborn then let him.

The whole ordeal of leaving the office, being at the clinic, and running to pick up his medication had taken nearly two hours. It was now closer to lunch, or it would be by the time they got back.

“Let’s pick up something to eat before we go back in. That might help calm your nerves.” She suggested, detouring on the off-ramp and swinging back into a little cluster of restaurants. “Whatever you want, it’s on me.”

He leaned his head back and sighed. “I’m not really hungry, but you’re going to insist, aren’t you?”

“Damn straight. Now order something.” She adamantly stated.

“Just double your order. I won’t be picky.” He mumbled, staring out of his window. The pain management medication they had given him was taking affect, all he wanted to do was lay down. He wanted to be alone, without her hovering over and tending to him, without her hands near enough to touch him again.

He nearly dozed off as she made her order, and only made a halfhearted effort to hold the bag in his lap as she led them back to the office, basking in the silence. It had become alarmingly clear, that conversations held in her car often led to either a physical contact or emotions coming to the surface, neither of which was something he could handle at this moment.

Sam noticed a shift in balance as he sat in silence, head resting in his hand, against her window. It felt like there was a wall between them, a sign hanging that read ‘Do Not Disturb’ in yellow and black, unmistakable. She couldn’t blame him though, not after that exchange with her brother, not after the joke her father cracked at his expense, not after her fussing over his hand the day before… He needed a break.

When she pulled into the parking space and parked, he only mildly stirred. She reached for the food bags, prepared for a last second jolt when it left his lap, but nothing happened. With a breath of relief, she turned herself out of her seat and exited without issue. She set it on the trunk as she walked around and pulled open his door-him nearly falling out if not for still being buckled in. He pulled himself up and ran a hand over his face. “My apologies Missus Young…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home? I will take you.”

“No, I’ll be alright once I’m settled, everything’s spinning.”

She leaned in, taking hold of his left arm. “Come on, I’ll help you.” With a determined tug she was able to assist him as he set his feet on the concrete and lurched his tall frame out of her car. Once out, she held him steady as he collected himself and took a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re not having a reaction?”

“I do not believe so…But it is certainly working.” He let out a little chuckle afterwards. “Whoo…man…I certainly feel it.”

Sam brought a hand to her forehead. “I should’ve just taken your stubborn Welsh ass back home.” She looked up at him. “I’m grounding you to your office today until you sober up. Do not leave that room unless it’s to the restroom, are we clear?”

He tilted towards her in an over exaggerated lean, his forehead coming down to touch the crown of her head, her hands coming up to his chest to prevent him from falling over. He was so medicated that he barely registered the pain that would’ve caused him. “So now I’m grounded? I thought I was the good kid.”

“Oh my god Charles, do not start cracking bad boy jokes with me now so help me god!” she groaned as she took hold of his shoulders, his face so close to her own it caused a blush to creep across her cheeks. Too close! He’s too close! This was bad!

A shiver ran through her as she felt his face bury itself in her neck, his breath tickling her skin. “You smell nice.” He whispered, resting himself against her. The spinning feeling was starting to slow, but he was still uneasy on his feet. Sam was thankful they had the lot to themselves; there would be no explaining this away, her arms around him, holding him as it appeared to any onlooker that he was nuzzling her.

“Charlie, I really would like to get you back to the office.” She replied, trying to deny that she in fact, did not mind this contact, however inappropriate. It was unlike all her other encounters with men as of late; gentle, friendly…innocent…

“I think I can manage now.” He said, pulling himself away from her. She held her hands out cautiously in case he wavered, but true to his word, he stood still, although slouched as if he couldn’t handle his own height. He shuffled his feet, hand pressed against her car as he walked around it. She grabbed the food bag and led the way back to the elevator, glad that she had a close spot. She had taken hold of his left arm to support him as he crossed the threshold and set him to lean against the wall as the machine lifted them up to their floor.

For once, her phobia was set aside, replaced with concern. The power of her Friendship overcoming her own inner Insecurity, seeing to it that he remained upright. She took hold of his elbow again as they exited, knowing full well just how it looked but not giving two shits as she escorted him past Lucy’s desk and into the hall where their offices were located. She set the bag of food on the table with little concern as she led him to the sofa at the end of the room.

“Just rest until this feeling subsides, even if it’s for the whole day. It’ll be no different than if I sent you home.” She ordered as she helped him sit, and then turn his legs so that they stretched the length of the cushions. Glad the pillows had arrived the day before, she set one at the other end for his head to rest on, slowly lowering him down onto it. “At least I’ll be able to come in and check on you routinely.”

Heaven forbid if something happened to him in his apartment in this state!

Once the sofa was engulfed in the long form of his body, he let out an exhausted yawn and closed his eyes. His hair was already starting to come undone from his smoothly gelled style, bangs falling across his closed eyes. His chest rose and fell with languid breaths, slow and steady. He looked so peaceful. Sam stood there a moment, taking in this splendid sight. This lovely visage wouldn’t be so bad waking up next to in the morning…

OHMYGODWHATAMITHINKING?!?!?

Sam immediately flinched at her own thoughts and quickly backed away from the couch and its slumbering occupant. She grabbed the food bag and flicked off the light as she left, pulling the door quietly behind her. There was a full day of work ahead and luckily, it would be a slow day by comparison, she could easily make up the hours she had lost in taking him to be treated.
………………..

Charlie found himself standing in his bedroom, everything normal and as it should be except for one thing: Samara was lying in the middle of his bed.

He stepped closer, seeing her dressed in nothing but black lacy lingerie and knee high stockings, a ‘come hither’ look in her eyes.

She crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer.

He somehow is already at the bed, her little hand pulling his necktie, lowering him down to meet her hungry lips, delicate and soft as he expected them to be.

Her other hand runs along his neck and up into his hair, fingers grabbing tufts of the wheat like strands. His hand runs along her throat, across her shoulder, hooking the strap of her garment with him. He ached to touch her, that soft smooth skin.

He found himself laying across her prone form, her hands swiftly removing his shirt, his hands exploring the curves of her body, her small shapely form like a piece of art.
“Charlie….” She purred, setting his blood on fire.
………………

“Charlie….hey, can you hear me?” a voice asked amidst a fog.

He slowly blinked, his head rolling to the side, unfamiliar with his surroundings. A cool cloth was pressed to his forehead, bringing instant relief. This was like at home, when he had a terrible fever, his mother placing a cool pack as he lay on the living room couch.

“Mum?” he murmured.

“Hardly. It’s me, Sam.” Came the reply.

Sam? Samara!

He shot upwards, the cool cloth falling by the wayside. He turned and saw the startled form of Miss Young sitting on her knees, hands up defensively as a reflex.

“Good grief Charles Jones, scare me to death why don’tcha?” she exclaimed, placing a hand on her heaving chest. “I told you I would check on you routinely. I think you’re having a slight reaction to the Tramadol. Have you ever been given it before?”

“Can’t recall.” He mumbled, bringing his right hand up to his head. Vertigo had taken hold of him from that lightning quick jolt upright. He felt a cold cup be placed in his left hand. Automatically, he brought it to lips, relishing in the fact that it was water. He swallowed with large gulps, water trailing down his throat. Either exhaustion or the medication was still in too much effort for him to drink ‘gentlemanly’.

“Well the main objective is to keep you hydrated.” She stated. “I already spoke with Ruth on the off-chance that you may be susceptible and to keep her appraised of your condition.”

“How long have I slept?” he asked, handing her back the cup.

“An hour and a half. I had to kick it into gear and make up for our late start but we’re in the clear now.”

“I feel hot.” He stated in his drowsy tone.

“I was afraid of that.” She replied, biting her lip. Her hands began pulling up his sweater. “Let’s get this off and see if that helps.” He sat still and only moved if she tugged at him to, or just grabbing an arm and pushing it back through the sleeve. “I think this hit you so hard because you haven’t eaten. I know how some medication can have a stronger effect on an empty stomach.” She was standing now, looming over him as she finished bringing the sweater up over his head and finishing with his right arm, moving the bundle slowly so as not to touch the wound.

“Am I a puppy to you?” he asked suddenly, looking up at her big bright eyes with dilated pupils. His blond hair flopped over one eye reminded her of how dogs occasionally had one ear that drooped down. He looked very puppy-like indeed. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. He looked too cute.

“No Charlie, you are not a puppy.” But then she ran her fingers through his hair, bringing up that low hanging left side weft that always covered that eye. His hair was soft, just a tad stiff from his morning hair gel.

“You’re petting me.” He smirked.

Her eyes darted off to the side. BUSTED.

“It’sh alright, you can pet me. I don’t bite…”

Her cheeks heated up at his clumsy attempt to flirt with her. She couldn’t help but smile, his honesty and humility was refreshing compared to all the other guys that tried way too hard to impress a girl. She broke the connection by taking his sweater and placing it over one of the chairs at the table. While he was cute and funny in this medical stupor, she knew he was quite vulnerable to saying or doing something regrettable if she allowed it to reach that point. Best to make sure he eats something and then get back to work. She picked up the food carton from earlier and brought it to him.

“Here, I ordered a garden salad, and it came with a roll.” She said, placing the Styrofoam container in his lap. “Eating this should take you out of the danger zone.”

He pulled his legs up and crossed them, shifting just a tad in order to sit comfortably and eat. He tried and failed at picking up the plastic fork with his right hand, twice. Hanging his head in defeat, he set the container on his right knee and held it still with his right hand, using his left to maneuver the fork. It was a pitiful display of English manners, but at least he was feeding himself.

Sam had sat on the cushion next to him, holding the cup of water for him since he was using all his concentration and coordination just to shovel lettuce into his mouth. Watching him struggle only strengthened her conviction that she had made the right choice after all, bringing him back to work and keeping him here for observation. There’s no telling what could’ve happened if she let him loose at his apartment, whether inside or out, he was in no state to be left alone.

She offered the cup-which he gladly took-and wondered what her next course of action should be when it came time to clock out. If he dozed off while riding the bus he could miss his stop and become lost when he finally did awake. The very thought unsettled her so much that she made up her mind right then that she would drive him home.

“Let me see your phone.” She suddenly ordered to his surprise.

“I’m sitting on it at the moment.” He replied sheepishly. “Is this an emergency?”

“I want to make sure you have my number, and you have mine.” She answered. “I mean, in case I need to take you back to the clinic or something.” She added to clarify. His head nodded as he took another bite of his lunch. Sam was pleased to see his appetite had not failed him as he devoured every scrap, using bits of his roll to scrap along the container and collect the remnants. Her hands reached for the empty Styrofoam carton and walked it over to the trashcan in the corner. As she did, he leaned over and pulled his phone out of back pocket, flicking his finger across the screen and bringing up his contacts roster. The print was small and blurry, causing him to bring the phone up close to his face and squint.

“Oh just let me do it.” She said, delicately snatching it out his large hand and pushing the touch screen buttons. “In your state you’ll probably type it in wrong and end up messaging someone else.”

He rubbed his hands across his eyes and down his cheeks. “You’re probably correct to assume that. At least the room has stopped spinning.”

“I was the same way the first time I was given Morphine.” She said, completing the programming and sending a text from his phone to hers so she knew she received the number. “Felt like my eyelashes had turned into butterflies, I kept blinking to try to shake them off.” A tiny laugh escaped her lips at the memory, hearing how silly it sounded being spoken out loud.

Her phone dinged to notify that she had received the text.

“Alright good, we’re contacts now.” She handed it back to him. “I won’t mind taking you where you need to go if you need a ride. I’d rather drive you than have you be subjected to public transportation.”

“Nothing’s happened so far.” He proclaimed as he shifted himself back against the pillow to rest.

“Don’t think that just because you’re an amazingly fit young man that you are invincible. The prowlers that target a solo rider are well disguised as regular people.”

He beamed at her, causing a touch of heat to bloom in her chest. “You think I’m amazingly fit?”

She nibbled her lip for a moment. “Well, yes…I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen an athletic male up close….” She brought a hand up to her face. “God I’m only making this worse. Just forget I said anything.”

He laughed.

“I don’t understand how you make me say such embarrassing things.”

He shrugged and then yawned, still groggy. “I’m jush talented like that I’guessh.” He replied, closing his eyes and curling up and cuddling the spare throw pillow.

Somehow, he seemed even cuter than the first time he laid down, but this time Sam was all too aware of it and refrained from touching him any further. Although it was tempting…..that hair fallen over his face…but it didn’t seem to bother him so why should it bother her? He was such a quiet sleeper too, she noted. Barely a sound escaped through his nostrils, more like a purr than the whisper of a snore. If anything he was more cat-like than puppy-like. She still couldn’t believe her brother had said such a thing to him.

Overhearing that conversation-if one could call it that-caused her to grit her teeth and clench her fist as she stood up and left Charlie to sleep just a little bit longer. There were still a few hours of the work day to attend to.
…………………..

Lucy had been taking mental notes all day long, ever since Sam had walked through the main doors and headed straight to the assistant’s office, calling for her to help set things up. Hell, she’d been writing notes since Charlie had taken the mail from Sam’s mouth and ran his thumb across her lip to check for a paper cut. I mean, how could you not? It was hot! And he literally did that right in front of anyone who could’ve witnessed it!

Luckily, she had been the only one.

And that little spat they had when they revealed the office as a gift had all her gears firing. Normally, one would be ecstatic to receive their own private workspace, it was just a perk of the job he already had. But he had taken it as slight against his character-and was still mad at her for something that happened when they left for the Harris meeting.

She had a notepad at her side, scribbling down scenarios. Granted he’d only been her assistant going on two weeks, and he was brand new to the company which meant that they had no previous encounter with each other before his hiring-unless……maybe they DID know each other from outside of work and were only pretending not to for the sake of appearances?

“Oh my god, that’s good.” She whispered, writing down that tangent.

That led to a whole plethora of ideas that she could speculate on for later. All that she had for her previous list was that she had somehow insulted him at some point before/during/after the meeting and it had stung enough to carry over. But Sam was not the kind to insult those she worked with; Lucy had never recalled her making anyone here upset by intention. And for the few times that she had even believed she did, she was quick to amend. Sam was honestly a sweet girl, under that hard exterior she had to wear while conducting business.

Sam made sure she knew everyone’s birthday, a card on their desk with an appropriate gift correlating to that particular person. Sam congratulated victories and talked out problems and offered mugs of cocoa for those struggling on a hard day. Little things that the clients didn’t know, but only those that worked closest to her.

‘What if Charlie made a pass at her?’ she tapped the eraser butt to her lips as her fingers flicked the pencil back and forth. He wouldn’t have been the first man to try to think that getting with the CEO’s daughter would be a fast pass to promotion. But Sam had proclaimed that the next man who tried that would be fired on the spot, so that couldn’t be it….

“What’s got your thinking cap on?” Sam asked, coming out of the break room with another hot mug of coffee and a water bottle (for Charlie?).

“Oh just some shipping theories!” she replied, flipping the notepad over. “You know I love those romance Webtoons!”

Sam rolled her chocolate brown eyes. “You know that the scenarios they write could never happen in life-even the ones they try making set in the modern world.”

“Oh Sammy, that’s not the point.” Lucy corrected, a finger pointing up. “What matters is the emotion invoked by the writer and if it conveys to the reader. Everyone can relate to the same emotion, despite the scenario.”

“Sometime I wonder why you didn’t just become a literary critic…Seriously, you break down every story to the basic structure and find hidden clues set in so deep that I’m sure the writer didn’t even notice.”

Lucy beamed with pride. “Why thank you.”

“So what’s the story now? Another paranormal couple from opposing factions trying to overcome a centuries old feud with an arranged marriage?” She chuckled.

Lucy’s natural red hair swished as she shook her head. “This one’s juicier. Set in the modern day, in an office building like this, a manager and assistant falling for each other…” she smirked with a sparkle bouncing off her round lenses. “I can practically see them like real life people here.”

Sam had clenched the drinks in her hands, shoulders hunched just a touch. Words that hit all too close, too personally, too real for comfort. Surely Lucy’s comic couldn’t be THAT on the nose?

“Bringing Charlie another water?” she inquired, shifting her glasses as she tilted her head up to look at what her manager was holding.

“Ah, yeah. Keeping him hydrated.” She cast a glance at the cubicle hub. “I mean someone’s got to do it? And I’m the one in charge.” She added loudly as she quickened her pace towards her assistant’s office.

‘Riiiiiiiiiiight’ Lucy’s inner voice drawled out, dripping with sarcasm. Her know-all mastery of everything Romance had her seeing right through her manager like a sliding glass door. The body language between the two was undeniable, their mannerisms telling. The argument, compelling. And how could she forget? The day Sam had that coffee spill on her…she came running back to Charlie’s cubicle wearing his button up shirt and retrieved his backpack so he could change! Lucy immediately flipped the notebook over and wrote in heavy, bold letters: COFFEE SPILL/SHIRT SWAP.

She watched with a pleased smile as Sam had made her hastily exit, adding more of her observations on a second sheet.
…………………

An upright Charlie sitting on the couch with his phone in is hand was a welcome sight for Sam, who was worried she’d have to throw the water on him in order to rouse him from his stupor. It seemed that her diagnosis of an empty stomach had been correct, he was no longer groggy. She broke the seal around the cap and handed him the cool refreshing drink.

He drank without stopping for several seconds, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. Somehow, cold water felt like a gift of the Olympians, like he’d never had a more replenishing serving in his life. He looked up at Miss Young as if she were Hebe herself, bestowing him with the nectar of the gods.

“I am so sorry that I have been a burden to you this day.”

“Nonsense.” She stated flatly. “What do you think would’ve happened if we hadn’t taken you to the clinic? You were in pain; you were bleeding-as if I could ignore one of my staff’s medical needs! Not when I have my own list of them.” She took a sip of her coffee and then set it on the table. “You’ll soon see that around here we look out for one another.”

“I feel very much indebted to you. I am willing to do whatever required of me around here until you feel that debt has been fulfilled.”

She crossed her arms and narrowed a glance at him. “I may call someone for a favor every now and then, but I would never use it against them in a petty fashion. You just continue doing your job like you have been and everything will be fine.”

“May I make one request though?” he asked timidly.

She smirked. “Now the indebted one wants a request? Ha, are you sure you know how to negotiate?” She picked up her mug and took another drink. “Sure, let me hear it.”

“Please never send me back to the third floor.”
……………

Five O’clock spelt freedom for the day, with everyone shuffling out of the main exit doors in their usual fashion. Reminders for drinks after the work for tomorrow were shouting in passing, everyone holding Sam to her word that she too in regard promised would happen. She waved off the last of them as she and Charlie entered the elevator, taking a sigh of relief once they were alone.

“Are you regretting to going out tomorrow?” he asked, feeling completely cured of his earlier grogginess.

She rolled her head along the wall of the machine and glanced up at him. “I only regret not doing it sooner, so I wouldn’t be feeling trepidation now.”

“So why now?” he inquired, holding his hand out to block the door as she walked past him. “You’ve been here a number of years and this is the first time?”

She marched up to her vehicle and inhaled deeply. “I’m not the same person who walked through these doors six years ago.” Her hand hovered over the door latch. “Remember when I said you reminded me of that person I used to be?”

“I do.” He replied, his hand also hovering over his door latch.

“At first, I would’ve declined the invitation because I was nervous around crowds. I had this project I was so focused on that I used every spare minute on it, even bringing it here to work on it in between assignments.”

He saw that wistful smile soon fade, as the tragic ending was approaching.

She slid into her seat, him following in suit, and she pulled out of the parking space. There was a lingering silence.

“Please continue.” He gently urged.

“It doesn’t have a happy ending.” She warned.

“Not all chapters in our life do. Sometimes, it’s something we need in order to grow, to learn from.”

Oh how she wanted to say something in response to that, but she held her tongue. He didn’t need to hear about how her obsession to create Ruminate had pushed her husband into the arms of another woman. Like she needed his sympathy or silent judgement.

“I know you’re not a perfect person.” He said suddenly. “If you’re worried I might end up sharing in office scuttlebutt, I’m sure there’s far worse that the others have hidden in their closets.” He turned his head away, focusing on the passing scenery. “I won’t be offended if you tell me it’s none of my damn business either.”

She smirked. “You’re too nice Charlie.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?”

He never got an answer to that one as she continued the drive.

She tapped her fingers along the steering wheel. “Which building did you say it was?”

He turned his head back to focus on the apartment complex coming into view.

“You can stop here.” He stated flatly, almost commanding.

“It’s no problem for me to… A-are you embarrassed?” she asked, slowing down.

“Absolutely not Missus Young, but I’d rather save myself the embarrassment of having my nosy neighbors approach and pester me about whose car I exited and if she’s my girlfriend and if so then why haven’t they seen her before and if they haven’t seen her then why I am hiding her all to myself….”

His eyes widened and he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent further humiliating things to come forth. His look of horror was quickly quelled by Sam’s melodic laughter as she tried to control both the car and herself.

“Oh, those kind of nosy neighbors…” she said between breaths. “Let me guess, you have a busybody landlady saying things like ‘what’s a nice boy like you still doing single?’ and offering to cook for you because ‘you’re too skinny’?”

“Exactly that.”

She nodded and pulled off to the side of the street. “I’m only agreeing to this because you’ve recovered from the medication. If your ass was still as loopy like it was earlier then I’d sling you over my shoulder and carry you up those stairs and put you to bed.”

He burst out laughing. “As if you could!” He couldn’t contain it, the mental image of this diminutive woman hauling someone of his height and weight over her shoulder and steadily climbing three flights of stairs. He doubted her asthma allowed a walk like that on a good day.

“Oh you underestimate my power.” She joked before laughing right along with him. For several seconds, the only sound was their laughter, in waves of intensity, volume, fluctuation until it gradually subsided into comfortable silence.

“Thank you for that.” She said, wiping an eye. “I haven’t laughed like that in long time.”

“You’re welcome Samara…I mean, Missus Young.” He quickly corrected as his hand pulled the latch on the passenger door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He exited, the tips of his ears burning with an embarrassed flush that he did not want her to see. He bent down and waved quickly before turning around and heading back to the street leading to his apartment.

Samara smiled as she pulled the car off the curbside and back into the flow of rush hour evening traffic.
…………

Charlie had to struggle with only one functioning hand if he wanted it to heal without incident. Clipping Bowser to his leash and leading him downstairs and around the grounds was no issue; Bowser was a good boy and didn’t tug too hard. Rummaging through the kitchen was another matter. He couldn’t work the handheld can opener. His pride not bruised as much as his chest, he gathered his nerves and walked over to his neighbor’s door, knocking in a polite tap rather than the pounding he gave it that last time.

To his surprise, a voluptuous woman with brightly dyed pink hair greeted him rather than Marshall. She leaned on the frame, one hand on her hip as she looked him up and down. “Oh, it’s the guy threatening to beat my boyfriend’s ass one minute and wants to be friends the next…” she casually declared as she prepared to shut the door in his face. “What do you want Pretty Boy?”

Charlie inhaled to settle his nerves, feeling a strong raw alpha bitch aura radiate off her, setting the hairs on his neck on end.

‘Pretty Boy’?

“Monica, it’s okay.” He heard Marshall weakly call from the distance.

“Is he alright?” Charlie inquired.

“Did you really come here to ask if he’s ok?” she asked, a dark blonde eyebrow arched.

“No, I did not but that does not mean I can’t be concerned if he’s unwell.”

The statement took her back a moment. “Where are you even from?”

“Wales.” He answered. “Would you be so kind as to open a can of soup for me?” he held up his injured hand. “I simply cannot do it.”

In the blink of an eye, her whole demeanor changed from hostile and intimidating to motherly and concerned. She shouted over her shoulder that she’d return momentarily and took hold of his hand, much in the same way Sam had done when she first saw it. She finally introduced herself properly as well.

“Ohh, please, don’t touch Miss McKenzie.” He recoiled with a polite slip out of her well-manicured and fierce looking nails. “I had it treated today and it’s still tender.”

“What in the world did you do?” she asked as she followed him back to this apartment and headed straight to the kitchen, picking up the can opener and cranking the handle with ease.

“Instead of giving Marshall the beating I threatened him with-”

“You didn’t do that on purpose, right?” she demanded as she spanked the bottom of the can into the little sauce pan.

“No, it was not intentional.” He clarified sternly, watching her work despite those long fingernails. Her hands were a masterpiece, but a little terrifying.

Her eyebrows hitched but she said nothing as she added water and began stirring. “So, Marshall told me you work for Sam…like, personally work for her…” she trailed off, her statement trailing off into silence.

“I do work as her assistant. I assume you know her?”

She nodded as she stirred. “From college.” Was all she said.

Even though Los Angeles had a population of four million, it was beginning to feel just as small as Lluandudno back home. Did everyone he came into contact with relate to Samara Young in some fashion? The coffee shop owner as her college roommate. His next door neighbor a former lover and collaborator for her game. The neighbor’s current girlfriend also a friend from college….although he doubted that Sam considered her a friend if she was with her ex.

“Shall I deliver a message?”

“No!” she shouted with a start, almost spilling the soup right out of the pan. “God no. We parted ways and haven’t seen each other in years…”

He watched as she fiddled with turning off the burner and pouring the soup carefully into a bowl for him, which was also set on a plate so he could carry it, but she had taken it and placed it on the bar, where he had only one bar stool for his single meals. “You need something to drink? I can ya something.”

“There’s milk in the fridge, glasses in the cabinet to the left.” He pointed, taking his seat. “But you’re curious as to know how she’s been, aren’t you?”

Monica straightened her back as if a cold hand had run down her spine. She turned and gave him a weary glance. He matched it with his own, his eyes taking in her body language as she suddenly felt unnerved. She poured him the glass and returned the milk to the fridge. After handing him the glass she pressed her hands on the counter and leaned over them, looking guilty.

“How is she?” she finally asked in a small voice.

Charlie blew on the soup. It wasn’t his place to say. He didn’t know what their past was like. What would Monica have to gain from knowing that Samara was hurting and alone, or hearing that she was doing well with the business? This whole Ruminate fiasco was not helping her mental state either. And if Monica was involved with Marshall, and Marshall helped make it, then surely she must know about it as well.

“How well do you think, with the game being brought up out of the blue?” he countered with his own loaded question. He swallowed a bite in order to give Monica time to weigh the words.

“Marshall said you were smart. Makes sense, you would have to be in order to work with her.” She said out loud, pushing herself off the counter. “I’m not exactly thrilled about the whole ordeal either. I think it’s a bad idea, but he’s playing it again and taking his time, making sure to do it right.” She crossed her arms. “Somebody catered to his ego and paid some fancy worded compliments on his contribution to the game…”

He met her disapproving glance with nonchalance.

“I happen to enjoy the game. Is it so wrong to compliment the artist?”

“Marshall may not seem like it but he’s really sensitive. He’s got a tender heart, and I’m just worried that this game is going take a toll on him. There’s so much past tied up with it, good and bad….”

“Were you the other woman?” he dared voice out loud.

Monica looked like she had been slapped; her eyes wide, eyebrows up, mouth parted to retort, hands clenching into fists although still remaining folded in the crooks of her arms. A crimson blush rose to the surface of her perfectly painted on make-up face.

“Neither one of them said anything.” He added casually, stirring his soup. “I was able to figure that out on my own.” He set the spoon down. “Whatever happened between the three of you is not my place to judge. I wasn’t even a citizen here when it happened. And I am not the type to go spreading gossip. It’s beneath my ethics.”

“So you’re just gonna sit there, knowing everything you do, and not say anything to anyone?”

He took a drink from his glass, wiping his lips with his napkin afterwards. “That is my plan. I am just the unfortunate bloke caught up in the middle of all this. Thank you for making my dinner Miss McKenzie. Hopefully I will have a better range of motion tomorrow and should be able to provide for myself once more.”

“It was no trouble. Just don’t go around threatening to pound someone and then ask then to open a can of soup the next day.”

He smirked at her lighthearted joke. “Advice wisely given.”

“Course it is, it’s what I do.” She produced a business card from her cleavage-of all places-and set it on the counter. “Viewtuber GlitzKitten with 2 million subscribers, following all my health, beauty, and fashion tips and tutorials.” With that, she turned on her heel and left the apartment. Charlie finished his soup and glass of milk, brought them around to the sink and rinsed them out. He needed to keep his hand dry until the wound fully closed, so washing dishes would have to wait another day or two. At least it was time enough for a substantial amount to accumulate. Might actually be enough to fill the dishrack for once. He placed a lid on the saucepan, saving the rest of the soup for later.

Bowser had not minded the temporary guest, as he had encountered her scent before when dealing with his own little friend. He had sat intently, watching the humans as they roamed the kitchen. His little butt wiggled at the prospect of getting some of that soup, but soon stopped when he realized it was not getting poured into his bowl. Not all human food got shared with the doggo.

But he was more than ready for bedtime cuddles as Charlie picked him up and set him into the bed. Charlie carefully, one-handedly, unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his right hand with gentle precision. His button up pajama shirt was easier to slip into, the sleeves wider, the buttons bigger and further spaced apart. He slid in under the covers and pulled the laptop computer onto his crossed legs, ready for more Ruminate adventuring.
……………

Sam found herself sitting in her recliner, aimed at the flat screen mounted on the wall in her living room. The laptop was on the side table right beside her, the Indigineer site on her screen. She wanted to message RedDragon, but she had no idea what she wanted to say to him. If she asked how the game was coming along, he might feel pressured to get it over with completely. That was the last thing she wanted to happen.

But her fingers itched to type a message, she felt restless, wanting to talk to someone…even if it was an anonymous username on an indie game site.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: hello friend, I hope you’re enjoying the game. Don’t feel rushed to finish. Just wanted to say that I am taking your advice and going out with co-workers tomorrow night to celebrate a company deal going through.

She huffed and took a drink of her water, glancing at her television screen. Whatever show was on had come to an end, commercials taking hold of the feed for the moment. It hadn’t been all that invigorating in the first place. Little dots dancing under the chat name almost had her spitting out her water.

“How is he on at the same time I am?”

RedDragon: the game is marvelous; you have nothing to worry about.

She smiled. Of course the game was marvelous. It took blood, sweat, and tears…and Benjamin away from her….But she knew the game was a work of art. Now if only the right people out there could see it too.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake at this hour. It surprises me that you always respond so quickly.

RedDragon: it is impolite to make a lady wait.

She rolled her eyes with a little laugh. Why wasn’t she surprised that he said something like that?

RedDragon: did you have a productive day?

She contemplated that for a moment. True, work had been done, but nearly as much as there could’ve been…and taking care of Charlie had been her priority for the most part. But RedDragon didn’t know that…

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: yes and no. I had an injured employee that I spent most of my day tending to

RedDragon: injured? How did it fall to you to take care of this person?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: he had a nasty cut on his hand, and because he is always willing to help others, he reopened the wound while moving some things around. I had to take him to see a doctor.

RedDragon: how kind of you, seeing to your employee’s needs. Why did you stay all day? Did you take him home and watch over him?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: NO. he insisted he was fine to return to work but hadn’t eaten, so the medication made him almost intoxicated. It was like trying to sneak a drunk friend into the house without your parent knowing. And he’s much taller than me so it wasn’t easy.

RedDragon: how embarrassing. Did he make a nuisance of himself while at work too?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: not one bit, he just slept until I woke him and made him eat lunch. He said the weirdest things and went right back to sleep. It was the best babysitting job I ever had. LOL

RedDragon: what weird things did he say? Was he flirting with his boss?

Sam chuckled. She actually was enjoying this little gossip. Now she was beginning to see why Vikki and Angela had enjoyed it when someone they knew was starting a new relationship. Her fingers danced across the keyboard.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: he mistook me for his mom or mum as he says it

RedDragon: that is embarrassing. I hope you won’t tease him too badly for it.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I’d never. Things have already been embarrassing between us as is.

RedDragon: oh?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: would you believe that on a day when I had coffee spilled on me, he literally gave me the shirt off his back! He was standing shirtless in my office! Anyone could’ve walked in and just assumed the worst, and how could they not?

RedDragon: I’m sorry. Did that make you uncomfortable?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I think for just a second. He was more embarrassed about it afterwards, so I ended up comforting him over it. I mean, that’s a weird situation to be in. But we managed. He had a spare shirt.

RedDragon: if he had a spare, why didn’t he just offer up that one instead?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: THAT’S WHAT I SAID. But he had this whole gentlemanly thing about me not being seen in such a fashion. So I had to go get his spare shirt for him and now I’m keeping the one he gave me in my office should something like that happen again.

RedDragon: do you object to being treated as a lady? I mean certainly you don’t work with people who degrade and underappreciate you every time you meet?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: it’s nothing like that. All my co-workers respect me because I’ve proven myself. I’m just used to doing things on my own. A man giving the shirt he was just wearing is not something even most women experience in their life. It was unexpected.

RedDragon: I don’t think he even expected it either, you said he was embarrassed about it too.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I wish I could say that was the only situation, but not long after that I saw his chest again.

RedDragon: are you sure you two aren’t dating? LoL how did this little situation happen?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: oh ha ha, you sound like my receptionist. Turns out my assistant enjoys fencing and got hurt in a duel. We were in my car and I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to find out why he was hurting. I opened his shirt and saw them. He promised me that he was taking care of them, using ice and pain ointment.

RedDragon: fencing sounds pretty dangerous. I may have to cross that off my bucket list.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: It can be dangerous, but isn’t every sport in their own way? Even dancing. The injuries one can sustain…they make me shudder.

RedDragon: so are you telling me you do not dance? That’s a pity. Dancing is more than just moving to music, it represents strong cultural significance, carrying on tradition, and the most important-it is fun

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: it may be fun if you’re not asthmatic. I have to be careful about overexerting myself. I avoid the stairs and take the elevator-even though I hate tiny spaces. I don’t even have the coordination to try; I’d have to have a little liquid courage first.

RedDragon: if you’re going out tomorrow night, will you have some liquid courage?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I certainly plan on having a drink or two. But I dunno about what else. Probably just sit back and watch my coworkers get trashed.

RedDragon: still keeping that wall between them and you

Sam scrunched her lips up. He had a point. Wasn’t the whole point of going out with them to remove that wall and become more like friends? The whole point of no longer being lonely, reach out and establish a friendship again.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: ugh I hate when you’re right. I’m just a little apprehensive. I might make a fool of myself.

RedDragon: if your coworkers respect you as you say, then they will be there to stop such a thing. Especially if there is another woman you can spend time and mingle away from the guys. You’ll probably get to hear all the juicy gossip

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: you have no idea what Lucy knows. That woman is the eyes and ears of the office.

RedDragon: sounds scary

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: she’s a harmless flirt; she hits on the delivery man all the time. Frankly, I wouldn’t mind if she dated him. It might take his mind off me

RedDragon: oh? Even the delivery guy has a crush on you? You must be a very beautiful woman, as well creative, intelligent, and high ranking in your career. Quite the catch.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I thought you said you weren’t going to flatter me.

RedDragon: I’m just stating facts.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: Flattery Facts

RedDragon: so you at least agree with me

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: well, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so who knows? There might be someone out there who will find me beautiful. For now, I just settle for something less definite.

RedDragon: less definite than Beautiful? So many words out there to describe a woman’s looks, and you’d rather not have one used for you? Do you have scars? Acne? Or Heaven forbid…freckles?

Sam giggled. She could tell right away that he was bantering. It felt so natural.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: Do you find freckles unattractive?

RedDragon: of course. Not. I am not some godless heathen who would disparage a woman for being blessed with a unique visage.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I feel like a touched a nerve.

RedDragon: I do not like when someone cannot accept a compliment. When one cannot see their own worth. When one failure sets a person back from ever trying again.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: …………………………

RedDragon: Now I feel like I touched a nerve. I’m sorry.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: It’s just hard to accept it at times. I am never sure if they mean it or not. And in my field, my position…I get a lot of people who think a compliment will get them farther than just being themselves

RedDragon: ah, ever the cautious one. If you’re too cautious, you could easily miss the next best person to enter your life. ……. Then again, if you’re too shy, you could miss your chance. So I know how you feel.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: are you telling me you’re too shy to approach the girl you like?

RedDragon: I am. I haven’t known her long, but I can tell she’s wonderful

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: have you ever gotten the chance to sit and talk with her?

RedDragon: a few times actually, and I learn something new about her every day. But her father dislikes me. Her brother does too. And we live in two different worlds. She is a class above my own

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: Should social status be the only reason, even if her family approved?

RedDragon: I am not sure. Things like this only seem to happen in the movies. And I worry I’m chasing after fool’s gold

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I can’t tell you to go after her, but I can tell you that if she is wonderful, then you should at least treasure the time you spend with her. And maybe the more time you spend, the more her family’s opinion of you may change.

At least, that’s what Sam would hope for.

She turned off the television and sent a farewell message to RedDragon, realizing that where the conversation had turned would keep her up all night if she continued going back and forth with him on a subject she herself wasn’t all too good at. Luckily he felt the same way, reciprocating that he too believed this was a good stopping place. He added that chatting with her had distracted him from continuing playing Ruminate, and had earned herself another day of waiting.

She chuckled at his light chastisement, promising that she would try to stay off the site over the weekend so he could work.

Dressed for bed and nestled between the sheets, Sam looked up at the ceiling of her bedroom. There was a faint blush to hear cheeks, hidden by the darkness, with only skims of moonlight casting light illumination in the large room. Conversations from earlier replayed in her mind. The things discussed with RedDragon, Lucy, and Charlie swirled in a cacophony, over weaving among each other in a confused tapestry. One thing that remained clear was that she just needed to tear down the wall she had around herself.

One person saying it would just be their opinion. Two people, a mere coincidence. Three though? It must be obvious.

She rolled over, facing the nightstand drawer that held two little treasures inside. It dawned on her that she was considering Charlie’s handkerchief precious. Just as precious as the ring it was laying on top of.

She grunted and immediately rolled to face the opposite direction. No, you are not going to torture yourself with either one of them tonight! No sad memories, no erotic fantasies! Just sleep.

Love and Lust pushed each other for supremacy in her head.

Love: you know you still care about him; doesn’t thinking about him give you some small comfort?

Lust: who needs that loser when she has that new hot boy toy at her beck and call in the office?

Love: oh don’t be childish, she barely knows him

Lust: look who’s talking prude. You can’t stay loyal to someone who isn’t there anymore!

Love: you can never forget your first

Lust: sure you can-just get under a new man

Love: you slut, you say that every time you look at another male

Lust: beating a dead horse again. You want her to call up Benjamin and forgive him after all this time? Just get back together like nothing happened?

Sam put her hands to her ears. “Shut up! Just shut up!” she yelled into the dark room, no one there to respond. “please…” she cried, tears running from the corners of her eyes.
…………………

Chapter Text

This wasn’t how she imagined the night would go. At all. She stood there in a numb stupor with her hand up to her nose to stop the bleeding, watching the police and paramedics assess the scene-which she had very much been the center of.

Lucy came up to her with an ice pack the bartender made, gently applying it to her reddened nose. “Don’t worry, the barkeep says since we didn’t start it that he’s not kicking us out.”

“Fantastic.” Sam said dryly. “I’d like another shot.” Her eyes were fixed onto Link as he and his partner Todd dealt with the immediate case, the man she had kicked in the balls for getting handsy with her. Once they determined he would not need to be taken to the emergency room and the officers were taking him away, Link came at her with a determined prowl in his step.

“Do you care to explain yourself?” he started without even as much as a hello.

“What’s it look like?” she snapped back. “I’m celebrating and having fun. Apparently too much for you to handle.”

“Yeah! Look at you Sam!” he practically shouted.

“Hey!” the bar keeper barked at him. “Cool it.”

“It’s alright, he’s a friend.” Sam clarified. She shot Link a disapproving stare.

Link scowled right back, especially when Charlie came up with a fresh paper towel for her. “At least let me take a look.” Link offered, reaching for her.

She held up her hand to deny him. “That’s not needed, nor wanted. I’m certainly not in the mood to be coddled.”

“It’s not coddling when you’re bleeding!” he yelled, his hands shaking with frustration. “What do you think your dad would say if he saw you like this?”

She exchanged the wet bloody tissue for the new dry one with a scoff and roll of her eyes. “Oh for fuck sake Link, I’m a grown woman. I can go to the bar with my friends whenever I please. I don’t need anyone’s permission!”

Todd called to Link to get going, to which he snapped with “I’ll be there in a minute!” and returned his glare back at the two of them. He was certain that having this “Charlie” character was part of the reason. It seemed like every time he ran into Sam, she was with him now.

“You should get back to work, and let me try to salvage the rest of my evening.” She replied coolly, in tone loaded with authority and barely check rage.

All her co-workers there, drinks in their hands, standing like wallflowers watching this debate, none of them saying a word but all exchanging silently delivered glances. Charlie at her side, holding onto her discarded tissue, there if she felt the need for moral support as she faced down her friend. Lucy, with her eyes reading everyone’s body language, hearing the tone in which the words were spoken, mentally stringing this exchange along like a scene in one of her beloved Webtoons.

This was DRAMA. ACTION. ROMANCE. All in one.

“I’d rather see you in a cab and on your way home.” Link protested, knowing he was already over his time limit of standing here with her.

“You can quit acting like the overprotective boyfriend.” She seethed. “It doesn’t suit you.” Charlie started pulling her away, calling to Lucy to get her cleaned up in the Ladies Room. She resisted only for a moment, before realizing she probably should be the one to step away first, as it would be the best way to get Link to leave.

Lucy came up and took her arm, ever diligent and dutiful, carrying her away from the scene.

“Link, come on man!” Todd hollered once more.

“Fine!” he shouted back. He turned to the skinny little assistant of hers. “Make sure she gets home. SAFE AND SOUND.” He ordered, finger pointing in his face.

“Watch where you point that, you might end up losing it.” Charlie replied with a snake-like gleam in his usually friendly eyes. “Your concern is noted but your approach needs revising.”

Umed nearly laughed into his glass of beer.

Link stormed away, defeated and seething. Everyone cleared a path as he exited. No one wanted to get in the way of a man as large as him, let alone a paramedic who probably knew how to hurt you in ways you didn’t expect. He jumped into the passenger side of the ambulance and slammed the door shut before Todd pulled it away and drove out of sight.

In the ladies room, Lucy touched up Sam’s nose, asking for the dozenth time if she was sure she was alright. Sam’s eyes had welled with tears in the impact, naturally, but they streamed with new tears from that embarrassing fight with Link. Her hands pressed onto the sink counter, she openly wept. Lucy patted and rubbed her back, just being there for her.

“So that Thor-like medic is more than just a friend, I take it?” Lucy asked innocently, just wanted to get the details right.

Sam scoffed. “Probably not much longer. He’s never acted like that before.”

“Oh my god Sam, where’d you find a hunk like him?”

She ran a hand through her brunette hair. “The hospital actually.” She looked at her friend. “His father was in the room next to mine, back when I was a teen. He ended up dying from lung cancer.” She dabbed her eyes and winced. “He needed a friend, and there I was.”

Lucy ‘awwwed’ for a moment, just imagining them bonding over tragedy.

“And before you ask, yes, he and I have been a thing.” She gingerly touched her nose, twitching it to feel if anything was broken inside. “But we promised we wouldn’t get attached.”

“And you’re telling me there’s absolutely nothing that you feel for him?”

“Course not!” she snapped, causing pain to shoot through the sensitive spot. “Bon Dieu!” she swore in French. She turned back to Lucy. “Let’s just go drink and we’ll talk about this later.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The perky redhead agreed, looping her arm into Sam’s and escorting her out of the bathroom.

Upon arriving back with her coworkers, she was greeted with cheers, hailed a hero and a bad ass, with everyone raising their glass in a toast. She smiled, slightly embarrassed by their praise, but accepting regardless. She was handed that shot she had ordered before heading to the bathroom and slammed it down in one fiery gulp. Everyone else threw their back too and the night started to get back on track.

She noticed Charlie standing off to the side, not quite in the collective within the space they were taking up in the bar. She slipped in next to him with a new glass in hand, catching him off guard.

“Alright bright eyes, what’s eating you?” she asked, setting her glass down.

“First of all, I’m not drinking because I’m on medication.” He politely stated; his hands crossed over on the table. “So don’t take it personally.”

“None taken, I think I’ve had enough offense to last me the rest of the month just now.”

“About that….” He lingered. “Is your friend always so insistent when regarding you?”

She cocked her head to the side, eyes rolled upwards. “Don’t beat around the bush; just ask what you want to ask.”

His mouth quivered a touch, but he firmly clamped his lips shut. He turned his head away to watch Umed arm wrestle with Alex while Kwang-Sun, Freddie and Jacob cheered them on. Lucy was acting as the referee. He couldn’t help but smile at their antics, letting off steam of the stressful week. He couldn’t even partake in the arm wrestling if he had wanted to, being injured as he was.

“I find it quite brazen of you, Missus Young, of how you handled yourself while being accosted by that lowlife.”

“Are you referring to the jerk that touched me or Link?” she laughed.

“Touché miss, you caught me.” He said, raising his fingers up in a sign of ‘no offense’. “I understand his concern of course. He is your friend and he knows your history of health. But he could’ve addressed you in a kinder fashion. Not made so much of a scene.”

“I’m gonna have a talk with him, no doubt bout it.” She picked up her glass and chugged. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her bohemian style blouse with bell sleeves and raised her glass so the bartender would see. The bloodstains added a new abstract effect but went ignored.

“Indulging I see.” He quipped.

“Whatever it takes to make me not feel so pissed off about the whole ordeal.” She answered. “I still feel like punching something.”

She saw him grip his elbow when she spoke about punching. She gently laid her hand on top of his. “Hey, I’m fine. Really. Despite how my nose looks.”

“If I was not in such a state, I could’ve protected you.” His voice was so low she barely heard him. She leaned her head on his arm, feeling him stiffen immediately.

“I’m not looking for a white knight. I already have one of those currently killing her competition in Japan. Angela taught me how to fend for myself back when I left for college. She’ll be so proud to hear how I handled this when I message her. You on the other hand, I do not need getting maimed in a bar fight trying to be a gentleman.”

“You think it’s silly of me, don’t you?”

“Not at all Charlie.” She pulled her head off his arm as the waitress set her new glass in front of her. “Merci.” She addressed the waitress as she turned to leave. “But as someone who has been protected all her life, having another one seems redundant.”

“My reason would be different.” He replied coolly, face impassive to any tells. He scooted her glass closer to her hands. “Bois ma chérie.” He stated in French, winking one eye at her.
……….

The tab was open for several hours. Drinks after drinks, shot after shot, wings and fries and even a pickle were tallied up after their last call. One by one, they had their fill and either called for an Uber had one of their own family members come collect them. A win this big for YT deserved the heavy partying, so spouses were well aware of what to expect to crawl back home Friday evening.

Lucy was the last to disperse, seeing Jacob off safely. She turned back to see Sam and Charlie, sitting awfully close to each other, speaking in hushed tones, hands resting on a knee, touching an elbow, seeing how they laughed at the same time. They had barely left each other’s side ever since the fight earlier. Sam’s hair had come undone from the tight bun she started the evening with, Charlie tentatively running one finger through it, hooking some strands and twirling them around playfully. She smiled and slipped out the door unseen.

They’d be just fine.
…………

Enough liquid courage running through her veins, Sam took to the dancefloor and began some simple swaying to the music. She didn’t know the song, but she liked the beat, and it was just enough to loosen up to. Charlie had made sure to keep her inhaler at hand, ready for whenever she needed it. He watched as she swayed, spun around, waved her arms around. She was a beautiful disaster; the bottle of inhibitions released, the collection of stress finally washing away as the music carried her into a realm of freedom.

Charlie had closed the tab he two of them and paid the bill, handing over her credit card. He inquired about a car delivery service, since he wouldn’t be able to drive her vehicle. The bartender handed him a card for him to call the number, telling him they were a trustworthy company. He called the number and set up for pick-up and delivery, giving them Samara’s address; that he had acquired only moments ago. Once that was in place, he called for a taxi.

“I thought you were the designated driver.” The bartender said once he finished. “You didn’t order a single drink.”

“I’m on medication.” He answered, leaving it at that. He came up to Samara, who in turn took hold of him and began to wiggle to the music. He laughed, but remained more wooden than she was, trying to get her attention. “Where are your keys?” he leaned in and asked.

“Here!” she happily cried, producing them from the safety of her cleavage. “These things come in handy at times.” She giggled, seeing how red his face got.

“May I have them?” he held out a hand, only for her to quickly pull them back to herself, and then raise them over her head as his hand chased after them. He wasn’t trying too hard, seeing that she was playing with him, and quickly secured them when she had backed up off the dancefloor. Once in his hand, she tried getting them back, but was fortunately under the height limit as he simply raised his arm above his head.

“No fair!” she cried. “That’s like, seven feet high…” She jumped once, a short, pitiful bounce that barely gained her any air. Charlie couldn’t help but laugh in delight. So she took a cheap shot, poking an area that had one of his bruises, causing him to immediately hunch over with a groan. Even intoxicated, Sam knew she shouldn’t have done that. Her hands went up over her mouth and she backed up again, this time meeting a wall.

“Charl-” she gasped as he leaned up against her, his hand holding her keys above her head. His other hand came up to her face, removing one of her hands.

“That was a low blow missy.” He said in a breathy, low tone. “I’m going to get you for that.”

“Oh now? And how does a gentleman get a lady back?” she teased, her fingers walking up his chest. He laid his free hand over hers, leaning in ever so slightly.

“Now that is indeed the question…” his voice purred in her ears, his eyes intense and twinkling. She brought herself up just a tad taller by standing on her tip toes, tilting her head up ever so slightly. Her eyelids were at that sexy half closed point, her face flushed not just by alcohol, but with an unmistakable look of desire. He didn’t even mind the black frame glasses framing her eyes; they just made them stand out all the more. He leaned just another inch down, so close…so close…

“Hey lovebirds! Your ride’s here!” the bartender shouted, shattering the moment.

Charlie immediately pulled back, ashamed that he had nearly kissed his highly intoxicated boss. She turned her head to the side, also momentarily embarrassed at the almost kiss. With her keys firmly in hand, he led the way to the door. He saw to it that the tow driver treated her car with care, pressing the key fob to unlock it, and then relock it when needed. Their Uber driver pulled up, to which he saw Sam inside the back seat first, before finishing with the tow driver. Sam told him it was alright to put on the company bill, and a 10% tip. The driver assured them that the car would arrive safely within the hour. With that guarantee, Charlie slid into the backseat along with her and their driver took off.

“It’s always good to see a couple of people acting responsibly.” Their driver, a motherly looking kind of woman, stated.

The silence that came after was a touch awkward.

“Music ok with you two?” she asked.

“Yes.” They both answered, looking at each other and then looking away.

“I apologize for whatever comes on, it’s my daughter’s iPod.” She chuckled, pressing the shuffle button and kicking it into gear. An Avril Lavigne song came on, immediately pulling Sam from her embarrassed funk and singing along.

Charlie couldn’t help but chuckle as she sang, loud and off key, but at least she knew the words.

“You know that I'm a crazy bitch. I do what I want when I feel like it. All I wanna do is lose control (oh, oh).

But you don't really give a shit. You go with it, go with it, go with it. 'Cause you're fucking crazy rock n' roll.

You said hey, What's your name? It took one look And now I'm not the same.

Yeah you said hey. And since that day You stole my heart And you're the one to blame…”

She got into it, pointing at him, nudging him during certain segments, poking at him until he smiled back at her. By the end of the song, he was at least moving his head to the beat.

“Yeah, and that's why I smile, It's been a while. Since every day and everything has felt this right.

And now you turn it all around. And suddenly you're all I need The reason why I, I, I, I smile, oh oh oh.”

As long as she was smiling, that’s all that really mattered.

After two more songs that had revved up the energy and mood within the passenger seat and they were approaching the complex where she stated she had the penthouse suite on top. Charlie was not expecting something on that grand scale, but there it was. Charlie had earlier returned her credit card back to her, that she was now passing over to the cabbie to slide across the mobile plug in reader and complete the transaction.

“Alright you two; have a good night!” the woman called as they exited the car. Charlie turned around quickly and leaned back to speak with her.

“I may need a ride home after I get her settled…”

“I’ll be on shift for another three hours, here’s my number.” She said, producing a card from the middle console and handing it to him before driving away.

Sam was wavering on her feet, trying to separate her car key from her house key. Charlie came up behind her, securing her by holding one hand on her waist, his other hand taking the keys and selecting the correct one for the door. He was surprised she managed to disarm the security alarm without problem while he had been momentarily engaged with the cabbie. He heard the diesel engine of the tow driver pull up behind them, to which he signaled he would be with shortly. They took the elevator up to the top.

“Alright Missus Young, let’s get you seated on your sofa while I deal with the car and then I’ll be right back.” He said as he shuffled her forward, hand sliding along the wall for the light switch. They walked through the entrance hall and took a right turn, where her modest living room was located. “Ah wonderful.” He sighed, helping her settle into her loveseat. He leaned down and looked her straight in the eyes. “Please stay here until I return. I don’t want to get lost looking for you.”

She laughed. “Lost? You think I live in a labyrinth or something?” she lounged back, languishing in the soft cushions. She waved her hand at him, indicating he could go tend to the business outside. He left without another word, with her sitting in the semi lit room. She knew she had drank more tonight than she had since the last party she attended in college. Oh how that felt like ages ago. If only her college friends could see her now-especially tonight at the bar-they would drop their jaws in awe.

“I am the boss.” She said to herself with a laugh.

The big bad ball-kicking boss in glasses.

She’d given that guy plenty to consider the next time he decides to approach a woman at the bar. That even a petite brunette wearing glasses could take his ass down. His humiliation in front of his friends would keep his ego in check. It probably secured more respect from the working gang, seeing her execute that move Angela taught her.

“You’re tiny, so you’re only gonna get the chance to land a blow in close quarters. Guys think they can get into your personal space like they own it, so once they’re in, that’s when you strike.” She remembered Angela’s words. She watched as Angela used Link as a sparring partner-being well padded-and slam her elbow into his face, then ram the knee to the jewels.

She had done just that, swiftly and with a precision she was still surprised she had possessed. She wasn’t prepared for one of his goons to come swinging and get just enough connection to pop her in the nose hard enough to make her bleed. After that, everything was a blur. All she could remember was that she had been pulled away and held back from jumping back in as her coworkers and the drunks got into a pushing match with each other until the police arrived. There had been interior camera footage to back up her claim of self-defense, as if her being the one with the bloody nose hadn’t been enough for the cops to determine. Cops she expected, but paramedics? And Link? And the way he acted? The rest of the night had been her drinking away her anger and humiliation of that.

And what a night it had been.

Charlie slowly rounded the corner, entering her living room with a look on his face like he actually surprised she stayed put. He inhaled a sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair. She loved how sexy his pale blond hair seemed to glow under the moonlight pooling into the room. Her home was more glass than solid walls, natural light flowing in at all hours of the day in every room available. What everyone had nicknamed The Glass Palace.

“Welcome to my abode.” She said with a dramatic wave of her hand.

“It certainly is….artistic. I feel an official tour can wait for another time.” He stepped up to her and secured a foot in his hand, unzipping the ankle boot slowly and gently easing it off. She wiggled her foot, relishing in its freedom. He ran his thumb along the arch of her foot, causing her to jerk.

“That tickles!” she cried out, trying to yank her foot back.

He gave a sly grin. “Of course it does. Didn’t I say I would get you back?”

“Oh not that!” she squealed, flailing her feet, trying to make sure she didn’t actually kick him in the chest. The other ankle boot went flying off and soared past them and into the dining room, causing both of them to break down in laughter. But he didn’t relent, his fingers still tracing little swirls on the pad of her foot. She begged, she screamed, and then she wheezed.

He stopped and pulled her inhaler out of his pocket and handed it to her. She took gratefully and pressed the canister. A rush of Albuterol filled her lungs, bringing her distress back down to normal. He let go of her foot and leaned over, his knee supporting him on the arm of the small couch. “My apologizes Missus Young.”

“Samara.” She clarified. “I do not want to be called Miss Young in my own home.”

“Then allow me to apologize again properly, Samara.” He replied in a silky tone, causing a swell of heat to burn in her chest. She clutched her inhaler to her bosom, held in his crystal blue gaze. She could get lost in the brilliant ocean of those orbs, float forever in peaceful tropical waters, feel herself weight next to nothing and breathe easy. She was surprised when his left hand came down and stopped short of her own, until she realized he was offering to assist her upright.

One hand holding the inhaler, the other took hold of his, allowing him to pull her up, until they met, face to face. She caught her breath, being so close to him again. She had not forgotten what almost happened at the bar. Neither did he; by the redness creeping in across his cheeks. “Thank you.” She managed to breathe out in a whisper.

“You’re welcome…Samara.” He partially choked, having to take a breath mid-sentence.

His right hand slid down to catch her elbow, as he stepped off the couch’s arm and back to the floor, pulling her along to stand on her feet. But she was not steady on her own. His hand let go of her elbow and came to rest on her waist. “I think it’s time to put Sleeping Beauty to bed.”

“I can manage that myself.” She said unconvincingly, knowing it herself that was a transparent lie.

“I seem to recall someone threatening to sling me over their shoulder and carry me up three flights of stairs and be placed in bed yesterday.” He smirked with relish. “I am simply repaying the favor.”

“Don’t you dar-!” she cried a split second before her feet were swept out from under her, her arms instantly reaching for his neck as her body was elevated off the floor. She nearly dropped her inhaler, but held on to it like a talisman to guide her through this unexpected turn of events.

“Charles Jones, you never cease to surprise me.”

“So we’re addressing each other by our full names now?” he inquired, turning from the living room and heading back into the entrance hall where he had seen a staircase. “Is this right?” he asked, indicating the stairs.

“Yes…to both…” she replied, eyes darting away as he took the first step and began climbing upwards. He was surprised when the first room he came across was empty. “Uh Samara…directions would be nice…”

She tried holding in her laughter, which only made her start to snort instead. “There’s another flight of stairs to go.” She confessed with unbridled entertainment.

“I must say, I take back what I initially thought of you, not being able to handle the flights to my flat. I didn’t peg you for having two within your own home.” He looked over, distracted, and then detoured to see she had her own balcony, overlooking her high ceiling living and dining rooms. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many windows in one house before. You live like a princess in a tower.”

“A princess?”

“Take no offense, this is a grand home.” He replied, backtracking and then winding his way around to the other stairwell, and up those steps into the largest bedroom he’d ever stepped in. “This bedroom alone…” He looked back, wondering if his mind was correct or tricking him. No, no trick, there had been no bedroom door up to here.

The Californian King took up plenty of floor space, flanked by two night stands, and two doors, one on each side. He knelt down and carefully laid her across the comforter, which he noticed was a twisted mess, as if she had not bothered to make it in the morning. “Is this bed big enough for you?” he laughed, easing his hands out from under her, but not removing himself from her bed entirely.

“Any other size bed just made the room seem even bigger.” She answered with a shrug, her arm reaching outwards to place her inhaler on the nightstand, her fingers just barely touching. He took the device from her hand and set it on the tableside, turning back to her and meeting her enticing dark eyes.

“You know; if anyone saw us like this, they might think you would do something…inappropriate…” she gently laughed, eyes held captive to his, her teeth starting to pull into her bottom lip.

“But they know that I’m a gentleman, and I would not be so bold.”

“Me on the other hand….”

“You, who have been a wildcard all evening, I suspect anything is possible.”

A heated silence followed, a moment frozen between the two of them that seemed to drag on for an eternity.

Then they collided, lips upon lips in a mad rush, her hands rose up and cradled his head, grabbing fistfuls of hair, letting her fingers dance in the silky strands. He leaned into her gently, the bruises on his chest still tender, as his hands braced himself on either side of her shoulders, and being pulled into her body until there was no space between them.

He breathed in her scent, relishing in the feel of her lips as she hungrily claimed him, shivers running down his spine at the feel of her hands running through his hair and one cradling his neck. He never thought that a dream he had had just the day before was being brought to life, although the scenery was different, she was just as he envisioned: passionate and powerful.

Samara felt enveloped by the beauty of this young Welsh, his flaxen hair the softest she had ever run her fingers through, his scent like a drug to her senses, something unknown but unmistakable. She pulled him into herself, aware he was holding back, she felt the tension in his arms as he tried to brace himself above her, failing as she grabbed his elbow and toppled him upon her chest.

When their lips parted from that explosive, electric kiss, their eyes locked in the dark but night-lit room.

“Was that…unexpected enough?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

“Samara…I-I shouldn’t be doing this.” he proclaimed, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He broke her gaze, turning his head to the side, his hair falling over his eye. It served only to attract her attention, a little hand coming up to lightly play with it in the way a kitten does with string.

Her touch reignited his temptation, unable to pull himself away. He wanted this; he wanted it more than anything, even as much as he had wanted the job just a few weeks prior. She was in his thoughts, in his dreams, and under his skin, causing him to behave in ways he never had before. Every part of his body ached to be seen and touched by her beautiful hands, to make a man out of him.

The delicateness in her touch, as if she were treasuring a work of art. Never before had she been in such awe of a man, so swept up in his unparalleled beauty and gentle nature. In her hands, she held an unpolished diamond, something she had never encountered with her previous lovers. His shyness was endearing, just as much as his quick wit and flirtatious charm when they were alone. He had so cautiously reawakened feelings within her long locked away.

Despite his verbal protest, he did not retreat.

His hand trailed along the side of her face and slid her glasses off, reaching towards the nightstand to safely place them. Her chestnut hair spilled all around her pillow like a dark halo. He secretly was glad he had chosen to wear contacts again; it was one less obstacle between them as he leaned in once more, his lips brushing against hers and trailing down her neck, imprinting her softness, her scent and her little gasps into his memory.

Her hands came up and began unbuttoning his shirt, his tie had been left in his backpack after clocking out, and the topmost button was undone the majority of the night so she already had that legwork out of the way. Gently though, she knew, he still had those fresh bruises. She ached to actually touch him, to for once not be distracted by those blemishes and feel his finely chiseled abs under her fingertips.

Feeling her undo his shirt, he reached down and took hold of her hand, halting her. A puzzled look crossed her face, until he brought her palm to his lips, and delicately kissed each finger, savoring the sensation of each individual digit. He then interwove his fingers with hers, and pressed her hand back down against the mattress. “No more.” He whispered, his eyes shut tight. “I cannot go through with this.”

Her free hand came up to cradle his face, bringing his chin up for him to open his eyes. “Look at me.” She ordered softly. When she watched his eyes open, she felt a terrible ache in her chest, as she saw herself reflected. “I’m sorry Charles.” She whispered.

“No Samara, I am sorry. You’re intoxicated and I am not. I know better.”

She brought her forehead up to meet his. “Ever the gentleman…” she sighed.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…” he snickered.

It was a slow, reluctant separation, the two of them gently and painstakingly languid in letting go of one another. He backed away from her, sat up, tried to fix his hair and gain a sense of control over himself. He had prided himself on being in control, but lately that had been tested-too much-just by her presence. She continued to lay against her pillows, hand resting on her chest as she tried to ease her rapid heartbeat. She watched as he began to rebutton his shirt.

“You’re too good for me.” She suddenly said; voice laced with pessimism. Her hand rested over her eyes as she sighed.

“Don’t say that.” He countered, stopping his task. “I’m not without my own setbacks.” He couldn’t voice what those were though, not now. He was already embarrassed enough as it was, doing the right thing. One could only hope that she wouldn’t remember this in the morning. He stood up and looked at each door on either side of the bed. “Which is the bathroom?”

Her hand pointed off to the left as she continued to stay as she was. He rounded the bed and took hold the knob, inhaling a regretful breath as he pushed it open. He was soon letting out that breath in awe of the high ceiling, with a wall of glass letting in the evening light, stars and clouds dancing above. A separate tub and shower, two sinks, toilet off to the corner. It easily engulfed his own three times over.

He couldn’t help but feel despondent in what is normally the least glamorous room of a home; hers more like a showpiece than a room to conduct personal business in. It served as a reminder of how far apart their leagues were: he in absolutely no league at all, and she at the very top.

He splashed cold water on his face, through his hair, down his neck cursing himself for a fool the whole while. How did he ever think he would have something to offer her that she didn’t already have?

He exited her bathroom to an unexpected shock-her standing in a set of basic men’s pajamas (much like his own) and holding out a pair for him.

“I don’t want you to go…” she mumbled, eyes darting off to the side. “Unless you’re dead set in leaving. I just…in case…”

He took the offered sleepwear, unsure if it would fit but not wanting her to feel any worse than she already did. If he left, she would feel like it was because of her. There was no way he’d allow that on his conscious. He’d stay, to ease her anxiety despite how his own was spiking. Surely she didn’t mean for him to sleep in here…with her?

He couldn’t help but notice how absolutely adorable she looked in those pajamas, completely different from what he expected-or imagined.

When he reemerged, dressed in the oddly fitting set, he found her sitting at her nightstand, the drawer open, something blue in her hands.

“Samara?” he called, knowing he had moved too silently to be heard.

She jumped, pressing the handkerchief to her chest.

“I’d rather not sleep with my contacts in. Do you have a spare container?”

“Yes.” She said, immediately fishing into the drawer, a glint of gold catching his eye as she pulled out the duel sectioned contact holder. As he reached for it, he caught sight of what the golden object was. She tossed the handkerchief back into the drawer and shut it quickly. “Guess it’s a good thing we both wear glasses.” She chuckled. Then she flopped against the pillow with a dramatic sigh which turned into a long yawn. “Bonne nuit Charles.” She drawled in French as she shifted into her comfortable position.

“Bonne nuit Samara.” He responded back, a touch of a smile on his lips as he headed back to the bathroom and proceeded to remove his contacts and set them in the container. He was unaware she spoke any other language than English, and though it was no Welsh, it was a pleasant reprieve from the ordinary. When he exited the bathroom and turned off the light, his eyes adjusted fairly quickly to the illumination from the night sky and how nearly every wall had windows and skylights to allow it in.

Samara was sound fully sleeping; he could hear it in the rhythm of her inhales and exhales. Blissfully unconscious and hopefully dreaming of something pleasant. He flung aside the comforter and picked up a pillow, setting it in between them before settling down upon the soft mattress. He had no idea what style of padding it had, but it felt heavenly. He had no doubt that Samara slept well tonight, as he knew he would be quite soon.
…………….

Chapter Text

Two people, who ended their evening sleeping on opposite sides of a large bed Friday night eventually found themselves in closer contact in the morning that followed, as if in the night their subconscious drew them together. The pillow that served as barrier failed miserably at its one job, as Samara curled her arm around something warmer and firmer and larger than a standard size pillow.

Charlie always woke early, it was just how his body worked, growing up in a small seaside village, a little cottage, the summers spent on his grandparents’ farm, dealing with animals and chores. So it was no surprise to him that all the sunlight pouring into through the unknown amount of windows, his body was already stirring, his mind processing the events from the night before.

Only this morning was different-in so many ways-with an arm slung over his side, a small hand resting on his chest. Her face was buried into his back, her legs curled up and pressing against the backs of his thighs and buttocks. She had firmly claimed a hold of him in her sleep, as to prevent him from sneaking off into the night.

He had stayed on his side of the bed, known for being a steady sleeper. He surmised that Samara was just the opposite, one who tossed and turned and rolled until meeting a sturdy barrier. Like him. He bit the inside of his cheek, wondering how to get himself out of this predicament. If he got up too abruptly he’d disturb her. Recalling how hard it had been to pull away from her last night only served to remind him of the boundaries that were quickly slipping away between them.

But bodily urges needed tending to, and there was no longer and denying it. He gently lifted her arm and scooted away and managed to detach from her and make his way to the bathroom.

He relieved himself, washed his hands, and splashed water on his face in order to make sure he was indeed awake. There was no way he’d have ever imagined her home looking the way it did, her having a bed that large, or stopping himself before they crossed a line they couldn’t recover from.

After reapplying his contacts, he blinked several times until his vision was clear. He thanked whatever voice in his head yesterday that had told him to just remain with contacts for the duration of the night, seeing as how that unexpected row had taken place, involving her of all people. His right hand itched with an anger at its current weakened state. Had he not been laid up with the wound and enduring the painful handling from the doctor, he would’ve been able to properly defend her with one well laid punch.

He’d never been one to start a fight, and he hadn’t done very well ending them either when faced with bullies back home. He relied more on diplomacy, but there were times when diplomacy failed to convey what a fist could. After taking fencing lessons, he found himself stronger and quicker to match his wit. The triple threat was enough to make those jokers soon realize he could stand his ground.

When faced with Marshall the other day, he’d been on the cusp of turning into one of those same blokes from back home. It had horrified him, that uncontrollable fire in his veins, and all for what? What was he even trying to prove? It’s not like he could stroll into work the following day and boast to Samara that he defended her honor by beating up her former boyfriend…

He cradled his face in his hands. What am I even doing? Why I am even here?

Hearing shuffling in the bedroom dragged him out of his thoughts. He immediately dried his face and flung the bathroom door open to see a drowsy Samara with the messiest hair he’d ever seen elicit a yawn and look around her bedroom with squinty eyes.

“Morning Bunty.” He chuckled, amused by her disheveled appearance.

“Bunty?” she echoed in a bewildered voice, reaching for her glasses.

“Oh yes, the Samara Young I saw last night proved she had some horns to bunt when faced with an adversary twice her size.” He clarified as he came around the bed and offered his hand for her to take. “Where I’m from, it’s a term of endearment. A little lamb bunting their horns…or a young woman making a stand for herself.”

She smirked at that last comment. “I guess I really did bunt some horns.” She looked down at his hands, noticing that his bandage was damp. “How’s your hand?”

“The pain has subsided quite significantly.” He answered. “Though I will need to change the bandage today.”

“I think I have some in the bathroo-” she started, before her stomach gurgled loudly. She flushed pink with embarrassment.

“Why not breakfast first?” he suggested. “You can also give me a proper tour so I don’t make a fool of myself trying to find my way out of here.” He added as he held her hand and walked her to the stairwell until she took hold of the guardrail, with him right behind as they took the stairs.

The morning sunlight pouring in from every conceivable angle lit the home far better than any indoor lighting could’ve hoped to achieve. He noticed there was a steady amount of plants too, soaking up the sunlight and providing her with clean, healthier air. It was if she lived in her own terrarium.

It was probably by design then, her choice of this architectural wonder.

He hadn’t thought much of it when they arrived at a high rise apartment complex further downtown; sure, nearly everyone lived in an apartment inside the city, but the penthouse? A three story glass structure on top of an already multi-story building? Every window he could see out of showed the tops of other structures nearby, but none were able to see within her home. There was even a patio outside, a parasol and furniture set to enjoy the blissful California temperate on any given day.

The kitchen was modest, small, but cozy. Wooden in mostly metal and glass abode. Its design and color palette of natural stone tile work reminded him of home for a moment. She had an impressive cooking range, cabinets on either side and an island where the sink and granite counter top was but a step away. The other side of the island had a wooden bar with little bar stools tucked underneath. He doubted they ever got used, being not but two feet away from a massive glass topped dining table that could seat eight.

“That’s an awfully large dining table for one.” He remarked when they passed it on their way to the kitchen.

“I occasionally have my family over for dinner.” She stated, opening the fridge and glancing inside. “Let’s see: the basics here….milk, eggs… I’ve got bread over there-” she pointed to the bread box on the counter. “….and bacon too.”

“Ah, eggy bread it is then.” He exclaimed with relish, rubbing his hands together.

“What?”

He then belted out a laugh at her confusion. “It’s what is mistakenly named French toast here in the states. There’s absolutely nothing French about it, just like everything else graced with the title.”

“I never did understand why fries are called French fries either.” She said with a shake of her head, pulling the milk and an egg out of the fridge.

“French roast, French vanilla, French ki-” he counted on his fingers.

“Kissing.” She added in unison with him.

Immediately they both reddened and went silent, turning away from each other. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling like a fool for even mentioning it as his eyes darted for something else to focus on. “Ah, do you h-have vanilla extract?”

“Actually I do, I barely use it.” She turned over to the cabinet where it was and pulled back the door. It took her a moment to locate it, and she raised herself to her toes but it beyond reach. “Damn it.” She muttered before feeling the entire length of his body press against hers as he leaned over and plucked the bottle down for her. She felt the air rush out of her chest as she froze in place, unprepared for such proximity. His body radiated heat that instantly flushed throughout her own, the faint memory of it from the night before coming back to her. ‘Oh God….did we do what I think we did…?’

“I told you I can handle the high shelf stuff.” He said, referring back to their day in the office when she used a step stool to be on even ground with him, adjusting his tie properly. He turned away like nothing had happened and began mixing the components the bowl he had found in another cabinet. “Cooking with another human in the kitchen is quite different from cooking with a dog under your feet. I keep looking down expecting to see Bowser.” He laughed as he whisked.

“Bowser?” she perked up, the name familiar to her from her video game playing days. “You named your dog after the Mario Bros. villain?”

“No, that was already his name when I got him.” He corrected, opening the loaf of bread and placing the slice in the egg wash mix. “All the pups in the litter were named after the characters, I found out. But there was just something about him.”

He started patting himself for his phone before it dawn on him, he was still dressed in a set of pajamas that was not his own. His ears burned with embarrassment for a moment. “Ah, it appears I left my phone upstairs…”

“I can take over this part if you want to run upstairs and get it. I’d love to see a picture of him.” She offered, coming up and taking hold of the skillet handle. “I think I can manage this for a minute.”

Clearly being dismissed from his cooking duty, he gave her a look. She returned with the same one, daring him to defy her, a playful smirk up on one side of her lips. He rolled his eyes and then rounded the kitchen island and made a quick dash up the first flight of stairs, then continued around the railing and up the second.

His phone was on the far end of the room, on the nightstand closest to the bathroom. He collected it and was making his way around the bed when he thought he ought to grab hers too, in case she might need it. It lay by the lamp, along with her inhaler. A tingle of curiosity trickled down his spine, and he couldn’t help himself as he pulled open the drawer. His heart pounding loudly, he lifted the handkerchief he gave her and saw the golden wedding band with a little necklace chain looping through it. He had no idea what it meant, and sure, it was none of his business-he’d been telling himself that a lot lately-so he was not going to inquire. He shut the drawer and dashed back the stairs to meet her in the kitchen as she was flipping the toasted bread onto its other side.

He slid her phone and inhaler across the counter for her to check as he took back over the chore of making breakfast. He brought up a picture of Bowser and handed her his phone to which she melted and squealed and fawned over the plump canine.

“Oh my goodness, he’s adorable!” she exclaimed, zooming in on his face. “No wonder you picked him.”

Charlie laughed as he loaded the skillet with another set of egg dipped bread and watched it crisp to perfection.

“He looks….Boston Terrier and….”

“Welsh Pembroke Corgi.” He answered.

She glanced over his phone up at him. “Of course. Welsh, like you.”

They left their phones at the countertop and took their plates to the dining table, sitting catty corner to each other. “How well do you think he handled you being gone all night?” she asked before taking a bite.

“Probably a little worried, but he has toys to entertain himself with. I’m sure I’ll hear about it when I get home.” He watched as her face took on that heavenly bliss when one makes while eating something delicious. “How are they?”

She put a hand to her mouth, trying to chew faster so she could talk. “Delicious! How are these so good?”

Beaming with pride he answered “A dash of nutmeg goes a long way.”

“I had nutmeg?”

He snorted, just a tad, trying to withhold his laughter as he chewed another bite. Course she forgot she had nutmeg, with it being on the high shelf she could barely reach. He certainly didn’t envy the problems that came with being less than six feet tall. His teen years were full of memories of having to reach something for his mother, and eventually his grandparents.

“I don’t do a lot of baking.” She said in her defense as he continued to chuckle at her expense. But she smiled back and continued eating her wonderfully made breakfast. “And I never have guests make me breakfast either.” She added.

“Is this so much a deviation from your usual?”

She set her fork down, done with her meal. “You have no idea.” She put a hand to her head. “I promised someone I’d at least go out with the guys from work and just loosen up at bit….and I think I broke the scale on how far out of my zone I ventured.”

“At least you kept your promise.” He chimed in, collecting her plate and taking it to the sink.

She was about to say something when there was a fierce knock at her door, startling the two of them. They exchanged a look, neither of them prepared for company to arrive at this hour. But she was on her feet and heading to the door regardless, surprised when she checked her security monitor to see Link on the camera.

“Oh, it’s Link.” She said, somehow developing an uneasy feeling in her gut. Charlie hung back in the hallway, unsure of how to play this out as she opened the front door.

Link stepped in, arms enveloping her in a hug, catching her off guard. “I am so glad you got home ok. I was worried all night. Why didn’t you answer any of my texts?” he rattled, pulling back only so far just to examine her face. “How’s your nose?”

“Fine, Link, I’m just fine. I only just got up and ate. I haven’t even checked my phone yet.”

“No matter.” He replied. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw a figure in the hall. He put his hand out protectively in front of her, glaring down the all too familiar mop of blond hair and light blue eyes of her assistant. “You.” His chest swelled as dozens of questions suddenly came crashing into his head. “What is HE doing here?” he growled with unrestrained ire.

“He took me home Link, he was our sober party member.”

Link glared him down. Then he spun back to her. “Why is he in YOUR pajamas?”

There was no denying they were hers, not with her wearing another set right in front of him.

“I stayed the evening to keep an eye on her.” Charlie intercepted of his own accord, not liking the body language Link was exhibiting.

“I wasn’t asking YOU.” Link snapped, still staring down Sam. “Oh, so you’re sleeping with him too?”

She gasped with a start, more hurt that he would ever say something like that in such a tone, than it being close to the truth. “Link!”

“Watch your tongue.” Charlie warned in a low tone. “A little respect if you don’t mind.”

“You shut up; you’re already on my last nerve.” Link shot at him before Sam pushed past him and stood in between them.

“And you have a lot of nerve coming here and accusing me of something like that, especially with how you acted last night!” she pushed on his large chest. “You don’t get to act you’re the only man in my life, you knew that in the beginning!”

“In the beginning it WAS just US.” He shouted back. “I thought that’s what it still was,” then his voice took on a hurt tone. “But I guess I’m just not enough anymore, am I?”

“You’re mistaking the whole thing-” she said, trying to explain.

“No, I get it. He’s there all the time with you and I’m just whenever the mood suits.” Link clenched his fists.

“Stop speaking to her like that.” Charlie stated; stepping out from behind Samara’s outstretched arm. “If you value what you two share, you’ll stop slandering her name.”

“Link, that isn’t true and you know it!”

“You don’t get it Sam; you’ve been different ever since he came around. That’s the problem.”

“I’m the problem? Are you sure about that?” Charlie scoffed.

“Yes! You are my problem!” Link shouted in frustration, rearing a fist back.

Everything suddenly happened in slow motion: Samara seeing that fist and intercepting as Link threw it towards Charlie, she throwing herself against Charlie’s chest to protect his previous injuries, too quick for Link to stop his momentum, his fist connecting with her back, the air knocked clean out from her lungs as she fell into Charlie’s arms.

A look of pure horror washed over Link as he realized what he had just done, as Sam released an anguished gasp, so deep and guttural that her eyes watered and face paled. Charlie was torn between the shock of her action and the seething rage he was feeling once again, this time aimed her hulking tree trunk limbed idiot friend.

“Oh god, Sam!” Link cried out, trying to reach for her when Charlie slapped his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He snarled, eyes staring icy death rays into his opponent. His left arm secured her against himself as she struggled to regain her breath. His right hand was pointing in Link’s face; right where he could see the bandage and register that even with a wound, Charlie would not hesitate to strike.

“Sam, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. You gotta believe me.”

She coughed, choked, sputtered and gasped again. “Just….leave…” she managed to say as she sobbed.

“I think that would be your wisest decision now.” Charlie proclaimed, staring down Link with unflinching resolve. He slowly pulled his right hand in and gently caressed Sam’s back as she held onto him and cried.

Link inhaled a weary breath, hoping that Sam would turn around and look at him, speak to him, but all she did was hold onto the man he suspected had so easily taken his place in her heart, in her life, in her bed. Despite what they had promised each other he still held on to the chance that one day, they’d set aside their differences and just finally agree to be together. That door was being firmly shut in front of his eyes, this terrible lapse in judgement and overwhelming emotion putting their chapter to an end.

A terrible, bitter end.

But there was nothing left to say, at least not now.

He knew he’d been defeated, and by his own hands.

With hunched shoulders, limp hanging hands, a downcast look of sorrow, he turned away from them and left, closing her door behind him without a word. Once alone, Charlie swept his right arm underneath her and carried her back to the kitchen and set her on the bar side of the kitchen island. She hunched over, hands firmly gripping the edge and breathing hard. Satisfied that she could support herself, he dashed over to the countertop where their phones and her inhaler were at and grabbed them all.

He uncapped the inhaler, shook it, and handed it to her. Weakly she grasped it and proceeded to breathe in with a puff. He unlocked his phone and immediately brought up his landlady’s number. As an elderly lady, he knew she would be up by this time. Luckily, she answered on the first ring.

“Ms. Whipple, good morning.” He greeted. “Yes, I know I didn’t come home last night, thank you for noticing. I do have a favor to ask of you, if you wouldn’t mind? Could you see to my little dog Bowser? Yes, I’m currently tending to a friend in need, we all had a little too much to drink last night and she sustained some injuries…..No, it wasn’t me….I’ll be sure not to…of course…I can’t say yet but it will be later on. Aww, thank you. No ma’am I mean it, you’re terrific. Good day.”

He took in a breath as he set his phone down, taken back at the bemused smirk on Sam’s face. “What’s that look for?” he asked, feeling under the microscope.

“No wonder…your landlady…adores you…” she croaked in a tear streaked voice.

He cocked his head at her. “It’s probably just the accent.” Then he face turned serious. “Alright, let me see the damage.”

Her hand immediately clamped over the top button of her shirt and held tight. “It’s not your problem Charles. I’ll just take a hot shower.”

“I’m not letting you off this countertop until I assess your injury. I’m well versed in damaged muscle tissue, if you haven’t noticed.” He retorted, pointing at his own chest. “Now unbutton and slide your shirt down so I see your shoulders.”

Despite the flaming pain screaming in her head, radiating from the center of her shoulder blades and rattling through her whole spine, he still managed to ignite those senses within with that authoritative tone that snuck out once again. He seemed unaware of it, his focus more on her than himself. She was beginning to see, that when he was faced with standing up for himself, he would waffle, but for others? Then he was strong.

She made sure to pit a pin in that thought and come back to it later, as she slowly undid the top button. The shirt was already large on her-purposely chosen to be so-and the lapels coming down the sides did little to protect her cleavage as it slipped down her easily. He gave a nod of approval as he rounded the corner to take a look, finding it like a target literally on her back.

“How bad is it?” she asked, slightly wheezing.

His lips flattened into a thin line as he saw the blooming blemish, already distinctly colored in shades of purple. He had no doubt that Link intended to hit him with full strength, as a show of force and prove his dominance. There had not been enough time for him to pull back, if he had managed to slow it at all. Charlie knew he could’ve taken it, albeit only adding one more bruise and extending his healing time already, but for Samara? As small as she was compared to him? Link’s fist was like a cannonball, and she was not built strong enough to take that kind of hit.

“The entire situation is bad, Bunty. You shouldn’t have intervened like that.” He slowly, achingly slowly, hovered his fingertips over the darkening spot. If he could transfer this onto himself, he would without a second thought. This was twice now, that she had gotten hurt and he had been unable to do anything about it. Did the woman have a death wish?

“I couldn’t let him worsen what you already have.”

“I could have taken it a lot better than you. I routinely test my physical endurance. While I highly doubt you do much more than climb a flight of stairs every evening.”

She took in a gasp of insulted pride and flinched away, throwing her head back at him. “Is that supposed to be some sexist jab or one aimed at my health?”

“I am clearly stating that you were in no position to do anything to stop two able bodied men from fighting-if that’s what it came to. Just look at what happened to you! You were the only one who got hurt, and you got into a fight last night!” His voiced raised but then started to decline as he watched her face tear up. Unable to bear seeing her tears, he turned his head and tightly gripped his elbows as he crossed his arms. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. At all. In any sense of the term.” He confessed through gritted teeth.

“And I couldn’t bear to see two people I care for end up fighting-because of me.” She replied, wiping her face with the palm of her hand. “Link has never been like that before…”

“It’s because I was here.” He turned back to her. “He was going to hit ME, not you. And YOU took that hit. If I hadn’t been here…this wouldn’t have happened.”

A bitter silence sat between them for a long frustrating minute. After a heavy nasal exhale, Charlie turned to her fridge and opened the freezer in search of ice. Luckily, there was a gel ice pack sitting by a container of ice cream.

“Do you need to do a breathing treatment? I can hear you wheezing from here.”

“I just need to calm down.”

“Arguing with me certainly isn’t helping that.” He chided himself, pulling a dish towel out of a drawer after finally locating the correct one. “This is going to hurt.”

He stepped up to her, holding the cold compress. Her hand still clutched her unbuttoned shirt, shoulders bare, looking every bit as that ‘girlfriend sleeping in my clothes look’ despite the opposite being true. “Once this is on, you’re not going to want to move for a while. And I have no doubt that you’re in more pain than you’re trying to let me believe.” His voice then took on a pleading whisper. “Please, stop trying to prove how strong you are, and for once, let someone take care of you.”

A single hot tear spilled from her eye as she closed them.

“You don’t have to stay…I don’t want to be seen like this, by anyone.” She sniffed back the threat of more tears. “I’m so sorry you got dragged into my drama.”

Oh how he longed to kiss away her tears, kiss away her pain…but his thumb would have to do. He brushed the wet streak away. He’d been involved in her drama since day one and was completely unaware of it. But honestly, there was no other drama he’d rather be pulled into. He felt as if he had come into her life at this juncture for a reason, to be here, for whatever she needed, despite how he felt about her.

“Would you like to lay on your couch, or your bed?”

Although the bed was absolutely the softest thing to lie on, it was a two story climb that she did not want to take. The loveseat sofa on the other hand, was literally in the next room, barely fifteen feet away. She slipped the button back through the slit, answering “The couch.” as spasm rippled through her bruised center.

“Come on now, the adrenaline’s fading; the pain’s starting to push through.” He set the ice pack on the counter and took hold of her waist, helping her ease off the counter slowly. Still, the moment her feet touched the floor, the pain rocketed through her and she knees gave out. “There it is.” He said as his point was made. It was no easy task, but he succeeded in helping walk her to the loveseat and lay her on her side. He adjusted the pillows for her comfort and returned with the compress, phones and inhaler and placed them on the laptop.

He knelt at the loveseat, the ice pack in his right hand, cooling his wound as he prepared to place it in between her shoulders. This was in no way any sort of revenge for the incident in the car with his bruises. He genuinely did not want to do this. “Brace yourself.” He warned, and then pressed it into place, securing it with another throw pillow as she jerked, screamed, and shivered. He held it there through the duration of her body struggling with the abrupt cold until she had no more fight left in her.

A sigh escaped him as he slunk down to his bottom and leaned his head against her legs. “Now it’s my turn, to tend to you for a day. No matter what you say, what you do, even if you hit me, I am going to make sure you’re well enough to care for yourself before I go.” He took in a breath and let it go. “Deal?”

Using her pajama sleeve, she wiped her eye and sniffled. “You promise?”

“Of course. I never go back on my word-”

“You promise not to tell a soul about this?” she continued, having been interrupted by his declaration.

He turned his head and looked at her. “Does Bowser count?”

………………….

A few hours later:

Charlie, now redressed in his clothing, had made a pot of tea and was sitting crossed legged on the floor as Samara was sitting upright on the loveseat, hunched over and sore but at least moving.

“I have other furniture.” She stated, glancing down at him while blowing on her teacup.

“This is just fine, it’s not like I’ve never sat on the floor before.” He replied before taking a sip. “Besides, this allows you to look down at me, rather than strain your neck upwards.”

She harrumphed. “Are you always so thoughtful?”

He merely chuckled.

Delicate knocking at her door interrupted their reprieve, causing them to both be spooked. “If that’s him again….” He warned, setting his cup down.

“It won’t be; he doesn’t knock like that. Just check the security monitor.” She answered, pointing to the hallway. He followed her direction and peered at the screen.

“It’s a woman, long dark hair, and I believe pregnant…”

“Vikki.” Sam whispered. “Let her in please.”

Charlie rounded the hallway corner and came to the door, cautious of this new visitor, but trusting Samara’s word. He undid the lock and pulled the door open, sensing a calm aura and gentle nature from the long haired woman, hair straight and covering one eye, a smile on her face.

“You must be Charlie, the new assistant.” She said by way of greeting, crossing the threshold.

“Have we met?” came his startled inquiry as he closed the door.

“Not physically.” She answered, rounding the corner.

That certainly was not a response that he expected to hear. He didn’t even have to say anything; she was heading straight down the hall and turning right towards the living room, as if she knew where her friend already was. He didn’t perceive her as a threat, at least not a physical one.

Lord help me if her brother shows up next….

“I would’ve been here sooner but it took longer than expected to calm Dee down.”

“Calm Dee down? What do you mean?” Sam immediately alerted, scooting over so Vikki could share in the loveseat. Charlie met up with her and offered an assisting hand for her to take, which she did as she lowered herself onto the cushioned seat.

Vikki felt a wave of intense passion from the contact; the slice in her right palm, certain spots across her chest ache; and the doubt of self-worth all at once.

A little overwhelming, but she managed to push the unease aside as she settled into a comfortable position. She was not expecting to garner so much in one go, but the emotions the young man emitted were raw and palpable.

“Would you like some tea?” he inquired.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” She answered, her narrowed eye locked onto her friend’s face. “I went to the Daily Grind after my Lamaze class, to get my green matcha smoothie as usual, and came upon a terrible feeling.” She began.

She explained that after Link had left her home, he drove straight to work in a daze, not realizing he had the day off. Dee had tried to send him back home, but he broke down in the back room, spilling out to her about what he had just done. Dee of course had immediately gone off, concerned for how bad he could’ve hurt Sam, but had the shop to run and therefore no time to pick up her phone and call.

By the time Vikki walked in, Link had calmed enough to put on the barista apron and do some manual labor and was carrying away crates when he brushed up against her, trying to turn away so as not to hit her protruding belly.

Vikki had become nauseated instantly, grabbing for the nearest chair and sitting down. Dee had come with her usual drink and a little wastebasket, in case the little one kicking would stir some trouble.

She placed a hand on the round bump, rubbing in circles. At that moment, Charlie had returned from the kitchen with a teacup for her, placing it on the laptop tray table.
“He is distraught about his actions earlier. You should know he never would intentionally raise his hand to a woman.” She told him.

“It still doesn’t make it right.”

“No, it does not.” She replied sadly, stirring the spoon. “The Lincoln Hudson I know and the one I met today are two different people. Everyone has another side to them, and that one finally broke through.”

Sam closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the guilt plaguing her. Her hands trembled, coming up to cover her mouth and eyes. Charlie helplessly glanced off to the side, taking a sip but hardly registering the flavor of the brew. Vikki turned to Sam. “Your injury….?”

“No Vikki.” She stated firmly. “I can’t risk you doing that, not in your condition.”

“Just let me see.”

Curious as to what their conversation meant, Charlie’s eyebrows were tented. “Ladies?”

“I am an empath. And I am able to transfer energies between people.”

“I’ll be fine Vik, trust me.” Sam protested, having scooted just a bit further away from her friend.

“I’m going to side with Samara on this one. Not that I don’t believe you’re incapable, but for the sake of your unborn.”

Vikki smiled and gave a nod of acquiescence. “It seems I am outvoted. Very well.” She picked up her teacup, took a sip, and set it back down. “Charles…No, it’s Charlie, isn’t it? Would you be so kind as to give us a moment?”

Charlie peered over at Sam, who nodded. Then he looked down the hall and turned to the patio outside. “I’ll be just right out there.” He said, pointing. He finished his tea and set the cup down before heading over to the sliding door and exited the penthouse.

“Here it comes…” Sam sighed, anticipating a plethora of questions or assumptions.

“He adores you.” Vikki said bluntly. “I think you do too.”

Running her fingers through her chestnut hair, Sam groaned. “I don’t know what I feel. I don’t even know if I am capable of feeling like I once did with Benjamin. It wouldn’t be fair to him if I led him on…and couldn’t be….couldn’t give…” Her voice trailed off into nothing, the uncertainty filling in the rest.

“He isn’t Benjamin. No one else is. Remember that.”

“Vikki, I think I might have already gone too far…I’m still his boss come Monday…how can I maintain the balance of power and it not ruin what we have when we’re alone?”

“A valid question.” She mused, finishing her tea. “The balance does not always mean even across the board, but what is fair to the both of you. You will have the scale tipped in your favor, naturally. Just as long as he is comfortable with that, then you will find your balance.”

Sam gazed ahead, watching as Charlie aimlessly walked around, taking in the view from above, his hands folded behind his back, face contemplative. Warmth spread in her chest as her eyes followed his movements. He looked as if he belonged here, lounging with a snifter of brandy in his hand after a long day at the office. His suits next to hers in the closet. Even his cute little dog, curled up in her lap as she reclined in her computer chair.

But that was a fantasy.

“Stop letting this pistanthrophobia dictate what you have in front of you. You’ve lived long enough with it. I must be going; I’ve tallied far longer than I had anticipated.”

“You’re always taking on everyone’s problems, and you’ve got your own life to tend to. You’ll definitely have motherhood on lockdown.” Quipped Sam as she waved to Charlie, indicating to him that he could return. He saw her signal and wasted no time coming back. Vikki took hold of the couch arm and began pushing herself up as Charlie immediately offered to assist her. This time, she was prepared for what emotions she could expect.

She grasped his hand and took to her feet, glad he held on until she was steady. He truly was a gentleman to his core, although she felt a touch of mischief beneath the surface. Just enough to bring Sam back out of her shell. Though he was unsure of himself. Perhaps Sam could make him see his worth. Standing on her own now, he let her go but hovered. They parted with farewells, Sam still seated on her couch as Charlie escorted Vikki down the hall and towards the foyer.

At the door, she lingered a moment and spoke in a whisper. “One word of advice Charlie; patience.”

He cocked his head. “Only patience?”

Vikki’s face gave nothing away as she smiled and crossed the threshold. Charlie was left to wonder what was spoken in his absence, and just what kind of person this Vikki was. Samara certainly had a way of attracting unique people into her life and keeping them. Could be dare to include himself in that list?
…………………………

Charlie stepped out of the taxi and breathed in upon the familiar sight of his apartment complex in the dusk light. The past 24 hours had been the most he’d ever been away from it since moving in a year prior. There had simply never been a need for him to be anywhere else. Ever since coming to America fresh from university, obtaining the mediocre job and joining the fencing class at the local gym, his life had been routine and predictable. He went to work, he came home. Only the evenings for fencing were times when he would walk in home late. The lack of friends established caused him to search out an animal companion, and thus Bowser had come into his life.

As he knocked on Ms. Whipple’s door he knew he’d be in for explaining his absence-not that it was anyone’s business but his own. The little old landlady opened her door and greeted him with a smile; and a bouncy Bowser at her feet that went into a fit of tail wags and yips. Charlie knelt down and collected his tiny friend, thanking the woman for her generosity. He managed to avoid being caught up in a conversation he didn’t want to engage in when her phone rang and she had to excuse herself to take it.

Bowser was still a wiggling bundle of energy, jumping in his arms and nipping at his chin just to show his human companion that he had been missed. Charlie smirked, telling Bowser that he was being a big baby as he took to the stairs and scratched his head. Unfortunately the fuss Bowser threw attracted attention, as they reached their door, Marshall’s opened.

“Oh, you’re finally back!” he exclaimed. “I was a little worried when Ms. Whipple came to your place and took him.”

Charlie set Bowser on the floor, unable to contain him and try to open his door at the same time. Bowser ran circles around the two men as he fiddled with the lock.
“Everything ok man?” Despite asking that about Charlie, Marshall looked a little haggard.

“Not entirely.” He found himself saying despite his usual urge to keep his business private. Marshall didn’t need to know where he just been, what he’d been doing, or with whom. Especially with whom.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk bout it.” Was the next brilliant deduction. Goodness, what did she ever see in him? “Well if you ever need a dog sitter, you can always hit us up instead.”

That stopped Charlie in his tracks. He hadn’t expected the offer. Then again, he was the one who called for a truce, so this was Marshall’s olive branch offering.
“I’ll be sure to consider that.”

He was about to step inside before Marshall stopped him one final time. Nearing the end of his threshold for dealing with people in general, Charlie steeled his nerve and forced a cordial look on his face.

“Thanks for talking me into the playing Ruminate again. I’ve really fallen in love with it; there’s been so many different things I’ve learned in my route.” Marshall’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, the evidence plain as day.

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind, I’ve had quite a long day and just want to rest.”

“Course dude.” Marshall waved him off, retreating back into his own dwelling.

Charlie and Bowser re-entered their home, instantly relieved to be among their familiar surroundings. It was no Glass Palace, but it his. He dropped his backpack onto the kitchen counter and began to undo his bandage, although it was a fresher wrap, and let his clothing fall where he stood. His destination: a shower.

As the hot water pulsed down his body, he couldn’t help his mind’s wandering pathway back to Samara.

…………………………….

“I think I can manage on my own now.” She had said, slowly rolling her shoulders with a wince on her face. “There’s nothing a hot shower and some extra strength pain reliever won’t fix.”

“At least allow me to prepare you something for dinner.” He offered. To that, she had accepted, knowing she was in no condition to cook. With her insistence that she could manage walking up her stairs on her own, he remained in the kitchen and set to making his mother’s famous cure-all soup recipe. It always made him feel better, through pain or sickness. He chopped vegetables, sprinkled in seasonings, poured both splashes of broth and milk, and crisped up bacon to crumble and garnish on top. He worried the entire time, afraid she had slipped in the shower, or was unable to crawl out of the tub-whichever one she had used. Once his soup was simmering on its own, he could no longer control the tapping of his fingers across her countertops, ears straining for a sound. The silence was deafening.

Trying not to seem too eager, he took the steps quietly to the second floor, and then called out to her at the base of the second flight, waiting for a response. He knew the bathroom was on the far end, and if she was in she more than likely would not hear him. He began tentatively ascending the staircase, aware there was no bedroom door.

“Samara?” he called out, halfway up.

“Yes?” she responded back, sounding slightly muffled. Oh thank goodness.

“Do you…need help?” he swallowed the lump building in his throat.

“As much as I hate to admit it….yes.”

His neck instantly grew hot, wondering what he was getting himself into. But knowing there was a lady in need spurned him into action. As he crested the floor level he noticed the nearby door was open, which he could only assume was to a closet. “Are you in your wardrobe?”

“Uh huh.” She replied, followed by a gasp and a small thud. “Shit.”

“Please tell me you’re decent.”

“Just get over here.”

O fy duw….

He put a hand to cover his eyes as he stepped into the room and used the guardrail to guide him into the closet. Upon hearing a breathy laugh escape her lips, he stopped. “You are just too pure for this world.” She chuckled. “But I am going to need your hands.” A moment later, he felt her small hand grasp at his shirt, pulling him towards her. He firmly squeezed his eyes shut but held both his hands up in a surrendering manner. “My other arm is stuck, I can’t move it. Well, I can, but it hurts to.”

“Uhh, are you covered?”

“Somewhat.”

His hands shook a little, feeling out in front of him; the top of her head, her neck, her shoulders, down her arms. Her right arm was bunched up inside the sleeve of a shirt, stalemated by her lack of mobility. Her left arm was bare, he felt as he traced downwards, and when she moved his hand brushed against the naked flesh of her ribs, causing him to pull back.

“Charles, please I need your help. You’re going to have to use your eyes.”

“Absolutely not, this is already embarrassing enough.”

“How do you think I feel? Literally unable to dress myself?”

“And you would have me look upon you like this?” he asked, trying to reverse engineer her arm back into the sleeve blindly.

“It would…be easier…ow! Damnit! Than what you’re doing!” she sputtered as he shifted her elbow up. Her hand shot out against his chest, nails digging in for a moment. They paused, both breathing hard. “Just take the damn thing off me already; I was stupid to think I could wear this.”

Charlie could feel his heart beat unlike anything it had done before. The proximity of their bodies, the scent of her fresh from the shower, the close quarters…and now she was ordering him to undress her…

Samara knew fully well how the situation looked. They were in her closet, she nearly naked save but the pair of underwear she managed to put on properly, standing in the arms of the most handsome man she’d ever met and trying so hard to remain calm when he was literally the only thing on her mind the entire day. The situation was desperate, and despite all the previous moments they had shared, she truly needed assistance.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad….right?” she asked him, marveling at how he remained stoic and not dared so much as a peek. “It’s not like this is your first time in a closet with a girl….” She laughed, trying to ease the tension between them.

She watched his face scrunch up.

Ok, scratch that….so it was.

“We can’t stay like this forever.”

“I apologize Samara, for anything I may accidently touch.” He stated in a low voice, his hands at her hips, slowly rising along her body. Her breath hitched in her throat as his palms grazed the sides of her breasts on their way to pulling the shirt upwards, his other hand sliding over her collarbone to join in the task of releasing her right arm. Delicate as well as firm, he maneuvered the limb out of the confines of the long sleeve shirt.

She leaned into him as the shirt crested past her head, breasts pressed to his chest, his arms coming around, touching her bare back, fingers slowly ascending her spine until they reached the epicenter of her pain. A hiss escaped her lips at the feather light caress, her hands clutching his shirt as she endured.

They stood in silence, neither one wanting to break away, neither one knowing what to say. His hand laid flat against her back, providing warmth and security as he held her. She buried her face into his chest. What needed to be said right now? There was no longer just Samara Young, CEO and her assistant Charles Jones; they had somehow evolved into more, the line blurred so much it was all but erased. No one knew what transpired behind the closed doors of the office, the privacy of her car, the events that happened here…except them, and only them. Was this only because they were alone?

Samara was the first to break the ice.

“Tell me…” she whispered. “What happened when you brought me to bed?”

The shock of her question made his eyes wide open; a jolt ran through his body. His eyes darted around the walk-in closet, her extensive wardrobe on display. His eyes glanced down, seeing a crown of chestnut hair leaning against his pectorals.

“I put you in bed…then I-I went to the bathroom, when I came out, you had changed into pajamas and offered me a pair too.”

She snorted with mirth. “You’re omitting half of that and you know it.”

She turned her head upwards, meeting his eyes. “Oh, so now you’re looking.”

His face immediately flushed as he bit his bottom lip.

“Something else happened…I want to know.”

He smartly turned his head and kept it fixed on nothing in particular, just anywhere but her beautiful doe eyes. “A gentleman does not, as they say, ‘kiss and tell’ and it is best left at that.”

“So something did happen.” She stated with conviction.

“Damn it, why does it matter?”

“Because of how you’re holding me.” She replied smoothly, her hands no longer balled up, but extended and caressing his chest. “And how you’re not stopping me as I do this…”

“If I let you go, I’ll end up seeing more of you than any assistant should see of their boss. So you see my dilemma?”

“Right now I’m not your boss.”

She could feel his scared rabbit heart, frantically thumping within his ribcage, feel his hands tremble as they softly held against the skin of her back, feel the desire in his loins as their bodies pressed against each other. What a curiosity he was, trying so hard to keep himself in check, keep the boundary between them when any other man would have made his move long ago.

“You have a girlfriend, don’t you? That’s why….” She concluded, pulling her hands back. “How could I have not seen it?” She suddenly felt so dirty, as if she had been the villain trying to seduce the virgin in a fairytale.

“No, that’s not it at all.” He immediately corrected, looking back at her. “T-there’s been no one since I came here.” He flushed right after admitting that.

“Then, it’s just that I’m not your type.” She surmised with a nod. “I get it.”

“Wrong again Bunty. But you and I…. we…we work together.”

“So did my parents. And they’ve been happily married over thirty years.” She raised herself on her tiptoes, imploring him with her eyes. “I know we have a…connection…and the only way for us to know…”

“You’ve had quite the dramatic weekend, and the confrontation with your friend…I couldn’t take advantage of your emotional state right now. It wouldn’t be right.”

She cast her eyes downward, lowering her stance. Was he right? Was this only because of what happened with Link earlier? The accusation of them sleeping together and the fight just manipulating her foggy memory of the evening into believing something had truly happened? Would she simply fill the void within her with this beautiful Welsh lad and use him for the time until someone else caught her eye?

Disgusted with herself, she pulled away from him and turned around, so that her bruised back was the only thing of her naked body that was shown. “You must think that I go around…doing this with every guy I know.”

“I don’t.” he adamantly stated. “And I’m not judging you for the choice you made with him either. You two must’ve been in a dark place, leaning on each other for support. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Her arms wrapped around herself, she only shrank further into a shell. “How is it you’re always the one to set the boundaries, stop us from crossing the line? And I’m the one losing my ground with these….emotions.” she spat the last word out bitterly. “I’ve become so foolish. And you’re always there to tether me back to the ground.”

He stepped forward, his cheek grazing against her ear, his chest brushing along her back. “I am not without my moments, my own follies, and you have been there to tether me back in place.” His hands came up and gently lay on top of hers. “If you’ll permit me, there is one token of affection I would like to bestow.”

She paused a moment, considering the words and their implications. Just one token of affection? She had no idea what to expect, but at this point he could recite a poem and it wouldn’t shock her. With her heart in the pit of her stomach, what could she have to lose? Her pride was already in the toilet. She only nodded.

He pulled away from the side of her face, leaving her skin hot and longing. She felt his fingers tickle the back of her neck as he brushed the hair aside. Her shoulders hunched as his finger traced down her spine, then resting his large hands onto her waist. Her hands no longer held her shoulders, but only covered her breasts as she tried to fight her arousal against his gentle touch.

God, does he even know what he’s doing to me?

Then she felt it. A soft pressure between her shoulders, gracing the center of her bruise, a kiss. His lips lingered, his nose nuzzling against the scapula bone, his fingers clutching onto her waistline with just enough force to let her know that he wanted more than he was allowing himself to do. A little gasp escaped her, not from pain, but from a memory of the weeks before, it being the very same place Link had kissed when he was last in her bed.

Charlie heard her; worried he had gone too far.

“If you would prefer, I can just get another set of your pajamas for you.”

“Yes, thank you.” She answered in a small voice. “Second from the top drawer.”

He opened the dresser drawer and pulled out more men’s style sleepwear. Although not what he expected of her, he found oddly comforting. Certainly more comfortable than other things he knew women often wore-if they wore anything at all. He brought the shirt up over her head, then she took over with getting her arms inside, slowly and with little grunts of pain, but at least nothing got stuck this time. His arm then came around and handed her the bottoms, which she carefully stood into and shimmied up her legs with him there to offer assistance should need be.

“I made you my mother’s famous soup.” He informed as she spun around, finally facing him. She looked so weary, so fragile. He had to fight the ridiculous urge to stay another night, just to be a helping hand, but knowing that he’d be anything but a temptation. Perhaps some distance put to give them both clarity was needed. Come Monday, this would be just another incident; like the coffee, his bruises, and the trip to the doctor’s office…

He took her hand and led her out of her closet, shutting the door behind him and escorted her back down the stairs. He had her sit in her reclining computer chair, secured a blanket and a pillow for her comfort, and then brought her a steaming bowl. “I ought to have left long ago, but I promised I’d be here until you didn’t need me.”

“I’ll call a cab and take care of the fare. It’s the least I can do in return.” She sulked, stirring the soup. “Smells wonderful.” He watched her face light up as she took the first bite, continuing with the second and third, until she was actively chowing away. Before she knew it, she was asking for a second helping. He smiled, knowing that it had done the trick. She leaned back, sated for the time being. He secured the rest into the fridge and made sure to retrieve his backpack from the backseat of her car before finally making his departure.

……………….

The entire taxi ride home he sat in silence. There was so much to think about.

Now standing in his shower, there was only one thing he could think about.

………………..

Chapter Text

“Morning Sam!” Lucy perked from behind her desk, but her smile quickly fell upon seeing her boss with dark circles under her eyes, hunched over and wearing very loose fitting clothing. “My goodness was Friday that rough on you?” she asked in a more hushed tone as she handed over the mail. No wonder she was ten minutes late.

“Oh Lucy, I think it was. Turns out that bar fight landed me some bruises in other places that made themselves known later on.” Sam fibbed, finding a way to explain her slow movements, her soreness, her tardiness. “Tell me dad hasn’t noticed my absence.”

“No but you better get in your office soon. Oh by the way, the laptop for Charlie arrived. I had it sent to your office; it’s on your desk.”

A weak cordial smile on her face, Sam parted from her chatter and headed to her little sanctuary. She passed by Charlie’s office without so much as a glance, and slipped into her office undiscovered. Her briefcase went into one chair as she rounded the desk and eased herself into her own. The box containing the new laptop rested like a gift, though it was anything but that. She would make sure she didn’t present it to him like one.

Still too sore to move her arms very high, she was unable to put her contacts in, so she slid her glasses off her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. The hot shower was only a temporary reprieve and the extra strength pain reliever merely took the edge off. Her shoulders still ached; in fact, it felt like the pain had spread to encompass her whole back. Charlie was right; it had been a stupid move on her part. Wasn’t it always the girl that hurt by interjecting herself between two rivals?

Rivals? What am I even thinking? He’s just a friend. It’s best he stays one.

A gentle knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts, a lifesaver thrown into the dark waters she was getting lost in. She looked up, not surprised in the slightest at who was in her doorway. Her hand came up, motioning for him to enter. He did, but closed the door behind him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, standing a white button up shirt, suspenders, and navy blue slacks. His hair gelled and brushed back, contacts in.

“As much as one can call well.” She replied. “Thank you for the soup by the way. I couldn’t stop eating it.”

“My mother will be pleased to hear that.” He beamed. “In fact, that’s what I love about myself today. That I am there for a friend in need. Come what may.”

She stood up from her chair and came around to the front of her desk. She had a black cardigan draped ever a lavender loose fitting tank top, black slacks to finish the look. No heels today, just a simple pair of flats. It wasn’t as sharp as her suits but it was all she manage to put on with no assistance. Her hands pressed against the desk, her bottom leaning right on them as she considered his self-love exercise.

“Being a reliable friend, that is truly something to be love about yourself. You’ve displayed admirable qualities in that regard….So thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Missus Young.”

Missus Young….just when she had gotten used to liking the sound of her name roll off his tongue…

“Ah, so I have something for you.” She said, trying to sound professional. She stepped aside and held her hand out, presenting the laptop. “You’ll need this since you’ll be helping me supervise the staff, efficiency, materials, marketing, and key accounts. I’ll expect you to familiarize yourself with our existing contracts and help me manage them.”

He couldn’t contain the geeky excitement that arose from seeing the newest edition of the Skylights brand laptop. There’d be no way he could afford that on his own.

“This is your new work laptop, which is small enough to carry in your backpack and powerful enough to become your primary work PC. There may be a time you’ll have to fulfill my duties and act as interim manager in my absence, as well as us travelling together to meet clients.”

He stepped up to her desk and picked up the box, cradling it against his chest with mildly contained glee. She couldn’t help but smile at his unadulterated joy, like a child getting exactly what they wanted at Christmas. Funny, she expected him to react with the same stiffness like he did with the office, seeing it merely as ‘office supplies’ and no need for fanfare. She really couldn’t ever tell what she was going to expect from him.

“Oooh, come to daddy.” He murmured to the cardboard. “I’m going to overclock you so good.”

“Really? This is what excites you?” she chuckled. “So, do you have any questions for me?”

He stopped squirming with his newfound acquisition and glanced down at her. “Actually I do. How is your bruise?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to tell me to undress again so you can see for yourself?”

Her response caught him off guard, his face flushing so much that he brought the box up to cover the majority of his face. “Missus Young!” his voice muffled from its barrier admonished lightly. “That was…”

A) Uncalled for.
B) Not expected.
C) A little too much ‘friendly banter’
D) All of the above.

“It’s healing fine, though not painlessly.” She answered. ‘You can take my word for it. Enjoy your new toy.” She added, tapping the box after taking a step towards him.

He mumbled out another clumsy ‘thank you’ and scurried out of her office, the two of them setting to work for the day. She played off her level of pain as well as she could when around the others, but insisted the injury was related to the bar incident so as not to have to fabricate a story off the top of her head-which was a subject kept hush hush so her father wouldn’t overhear.

“You should come out for drinks more often, it’s hilarious.” Umed said, refilling the coffee pot after pouring her the last from the previous brew. “Imagine my surprise, seeing you pull out some crazy white girl Kung Foo.”

“I have no intention of doing that on a regular basis.” She sharply replied.

Umed turned to her with a start.

“The fighting, I mean.” She clarified, taking a sip of the bitter brown liquid. The last batch was always the worst, but someone had to drink it if there was going to be a new pot. “And honestly, I’m still shocked I pulled that off.”

Umed’s head bobbed along as he pressed the button. “Oh that’s for sure. So, any word on the data entry for the Ellesmere Project?”

“I was going to delegate that to Charlie, seeing as he could use the experience.”

“Yeah, but he’s your assistant now, he has more important things to tend to. Jacob’s the intern here.”

“Jacob doesn’t have the attention span to detail essential data entry. He’s more like a big picture person, and being an artist, the GUI is better suited for him.”

The scoff was undeniable. Umed tossed his eyes at her. “Jacob is a graffiti artist.” He said with a snark. “Doesn’t exactly carry over to user interface design.”

“Look, I’ve done my time with data-entry; I know it’s not glamorous. But currently, there isn’t room in the budget to hire a temp just for that. The rest of the team have their assignments-which I assigned them because they excel in those areas. My hands are kinda tied on this.”

“Yours may be, but mine aren’t.”

She crossed her arms. “You sure?”

Umed puffed his chest. “Course I am. Name anyone else here with half my experience and record for top notch work.”

She chuckled at his bravado. “Ok Mr. Great and Wonderful Patel. You take the date-entry, and Charlie will get to show us what he’s made of. You can give him the good news.”

She sipped her coffee and walked out the break room.
……………………

“Are you absolutely certain Umed?” a surprised Charlie asked, his eyebrows hitched up his forehead upon the news. “That seems like a big step forward.”

“Course it is kid, but you caught that typo that was literally staring me in the face for days without so much as a second thought, you’ve got the eye for doing this.”

“Ok, what’s the catch?” he demanded with his hands tented, elbows on his desk.

“Oh you mean like how I’ve noticed that you seem to be Sam’s favorite ‘round here?” he chuckled, seeing Charlie turn red and avert his eyes.

“I’ve been here a while man, I’ve seen her grow from this introverted, anxiety ridden hot mess into the confident ass kicker from last week. And I couldn’t help but notice how she insisted you come along with us, granted that you didn’t do a single thing on the Harris Project except play the innocent newbie, and it was the first time she’d ever come and join us in any after work social gathering.”

Charlie felt a sweat break out across his forehead.

“And you two were the last ones to leave the bar last night.”

“How would you even know?” Charlie deflected, shifting his position in his seat, crossing his arms.

“Lucy told me.” The Indian tapped at his temple. “As if I couldn’t see if for myself. The look in your eye when that guy hit her…” He released a shudder. “Man, I hope I never make you that angry at me.”

“It’s uncouth to strike a woman.” The young Welsh merely stated as a fact.

“That may be true. But I also know how a man looks when he’s head over heels. You just might wanna keep that in check whenever Mr. Young is around.” With that, Umed tossed the GUI folder across the desk to him. “I’ll be coming back later for the files.” He added as he turned on his heel and exited the office.

Overwhelmed, Charlie placed a hand to his forehead and inhaled deeply.

……………………

“Ok, spill it.” Lucy ordered, placing her hands firmly on the table when she and Sam seated themselves for lunch. They chose the corner table with an excellent view of the courtyard Young Technologies procured mainly for scenery, but every so often found itself used as an escape for cubicle cramped employees needing to catch a break.
One familiar head of blond hair had caught her eye, sitting on one of the decorative boulders, legs crossed, lunchbox opened by his side.

Sam brought a hand up to her face. She had not expected him to invade the section of scenery she had chosen to try to avoid thinking about him. He had no idea she was sitting in the cafeteria, with a perfect unobstructed view of him either.

But Lucy had caught up with her, and now was practically cornering her, demanding details on God knows what.

“You told me we’d discuss it later, so tell me all about that hunky friend of yours.” She chirped while unwrapping her BLT sandwich.

The mere thought of Link caused her to flinch.

“I-I can’t talk about him right now.” She murmured. Her hands shook just a bit as she tried to maneuver her salad. “We had a fight. A terrible one.”

“Ohhhh.” Her friend replied, crestfallen. Something about Sam’s tone indicated that the fight had definitely been as terrible as she wasn’t saying. “I’m sorry.”

Sam turned her head back towards the window-more like the wall of glass-and saw Charlie diligently eat his sandwich. Was he lonely? Or did he just want to be alone to eat? It was a beautiful day, so she couldn’t blame him if he wanted to enjoy it.

“What about the two of you?” Lucy inquired, nearly in a whisper.

“Huh?” Sam snapped out of her wanderlust. “I just told you…”

The redhead snickered. “Not him. But HIM.” She indicated with her thumb. She had figured out Charlie was out in the courtyard. “I saw how you were on Friday. Like the rest of us disappeared and it was just the two of you. Not that I can blame you, he certainly is a looker.”

Shoving a mouthful of lettuce in her mouth gave Sam a moment to think, and avoid Lucy’s impenetrable gaze. She followed it with a long draught of water. But the silence only proved to entertain her tablemate. She simply didn’t know what to say.

“I get it.” The receptionist laughed. “Don’t kiss and tell. You probably think I’ll tell the whole office but honestly, the guys wouldn’t give a damn. And talking with you is better than the snoots on the third floor.”

Immediately Sam recalled something Charlie had said about the third floor last week. “I don’t know what happened when we sent Charlie up to Rosewood’s office, but he asked that we never send him there again.”

And right back onto Charlie without any prompting, Lucy noted with a smile. Oh how her friend had it bad, and she probably didn’t even know it.

………….

Shortly before punch-out, Ms. Whipple had called Charlie’s phone and wanted to remind him that he had run out of dog food since Bowser had torn open the bag and munched happily all evening before his call to her on Saturday morning.

“I meant to tell you, but I had a phone call from my grandkids, and by the time I remembered it was already so late.”

He slapped his forehead. He’d been in such a rush this morning due to his oversleeping that he’d charged out the door without even pouring kibble into Bowser’s bowl, let alone not knowing the fat bastard had gorged himself on his entire supply the night he was gone.

“Thank you Ms. Whipple, you are an angel.”

He hung up and buried his face in his hands, groaning with indignation. It was his own damn fault, staying the night at Samara’s when he should’ve just told her ‘No’ and taken the taxi back to his flat. But had to give into his carnal urges for a moment, pulled into an embrace he had not expected nor wanted to leave. Try as he might, he never seemed to make the right decision.

“What’s eating you?” he heard her ask from his doorway.

He pulled his face up just enough to see her, fingertips still covering his mouth.

“My landlady informed me that on the one night I was not at home, Bowser went to town and ate all the dog food I had. And it wasn’t until my call in the morning to her that she discovered it when she went to collect him. She was unable to inform me of this when I picked him up from her.” He sighed. “I just went straight to bed and nearly missed the bus this morning…didn’t even feed him before leaving.”

“I’m sorry.” She said, looking down the hall to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. “Come on, I’ll swing you by the store so you can get him some more. Though today, he sounds like he could use a diet.”

“I can’t ask you to do tha-”

She held up a hand to silence him. “Yes, I can do this because if you break it down, you were not there because of me. So come on.” She ordered.

He got to his feet and stuffed the new laptop into his backpack before following her out. He tried to maintain a mutual distance as they passed by other staff, although he could’ve sworn that Umed winked as he shot him with a finger gun. When they entered the elevator they each took the opposite corner, letting others enter and fill the space between.

As the elevator emptied, Sam slipped out with the crowd and marched straight to her car. A moment later he fell right in behind her, coming around to her passenger side and opening the door. She reversed and exited the underground lot, making a turn in the opposite direction from their usual route. He sat in silence, his eyes on the scenery that passed as she weaved through the traffic and pulled up to a shopping district riddled with retail and restaurants.

He allowed her to select the store and merely followed as she led the way straight to the pet department, which would’ve taken him a moment to find having never been to this particular outlet before. In no time, she had a dietary select brand of dog food and a “doggy proof” storage container that guaranteed safety from canine breaking and entry.

“This should give you some piece of mind.” She said as he picked up the 20 gallon tub with a screw-on lid. “And if he manages to get into that, we’ll upgrade to the next best one.”

He tried to not be bothered by the fact she had chosen high end brands, thus paying more than what was needed, but he knew she’d simply say that it was no big deal because she could afford it. And it was the truth, so he couldn’t argue. Not that he felt emasculated in any way by her paying for the items, out of her generosity, just that she didn’t have to pick that particular one. Oh well. His mother would’ve smacked him if he’d had shown the slightest bit of disapproval.

It must’ve still shown through though, because when they got back to the car she came right out an asked.

“Not at all Missus Yo-” he stopped himself. “Samara.”

She smiled at the fact he caught himself and corrected. “Good. I didn’t think you would.”

Her driving brought them home sooner than he expected; the ride seemingly all too short now that he had finally become comfortable. This time though, he didn’t protest to her pulling up into the apartment complex and into a parking slot. As he gathered the items from the trunk, she exited and came to assist.

“It’s quite alright, I can manage.” He proclaimed, trying to get one arm around the food storage container while holding the bag of dog food in the other. To his chagrin, he simply couldn’t. She stood there, arms crossed, trying to not let that smug smile of hers show.

“Oh fine, you can take something.” He sighed with defeat. Why was it so hard to say no to her?

“I think I can handle the dog food.” She offered, reaching for the bag. He was careful about handing it to her, making sure she had her center of gravity once it was in her grasp.

“Alright, straight to the top.” He announced, hefting his backpack on and clutching the container to follow after her. He easily surpassed her with his long legs and build, so he would wait a few seconds for her to catch up as she took her time with steady breaths. His words from Saturday came back to him, making him feeling guilty for wounding her pride.

‘I am constantly testing my physical endurance while I doubt you do much more than climb a flight of stairs every evening.’

God, I sounded like an outright arse saying that her. No wonder she took offense.

Finally on the third floor, Sam let out an exhausted breath, but proud that she had not stopped to use her inhaler the entire time. As she stood by the stairs he continued onward to his door, setting down the container. His neighbor’s door opened, the figure stumbling out, struggling with himself. Catching Charlie’s attention, he mumbled something hoarsely.

“Marshall?” Charlie inquired. “Are you well?”

Marshall? As in…

With a turn of his head, she saw him.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The dog food bag hit the floor, nearly atop of her foot. Not that she would’ve noticed anyway.

“Benjamin?” she whispered.

His eyes widened upon hearing that voice, hearing that name spoken. “Sam?”

Charlie looked back from the two, realizing there had been vital piece of the puzzle he had not been aware of until now. As Marshall coughed and slunk to the ground, Sam gasped and rushed up to them, eyes frantic with fear. Charlie caught Marshall before his head could hit the cement and laid him flat on his back. Sam fell to her knees, reaching for him.

“Ben! Ben!”

“I’m so-sorry Sam…I screwed up again…” he gulped for air like a drowning fish, clutching his chest as his eyes rolled back.

“Samara, call 9-1-1.” Charlie ordered, as he began doing chest compressions. “Come on, breathe!”

With shaking hands, she was barely able to press the right numbers, and watched helplessly as Charlie pounded on her ex-husband’s chest to revive him. She relayed the information Charlie told her to the dispatcher, relieved when Benjamin caught his breath and hacked, grabbing her hand. She firmly clutched it back.

“Ruminate…was…amazing…” he breathed out with labor.

“Don’t talk, save your strength.” Charlie ordered, tilting him to his side for air.

“You have…to know…” he implored to her, his eyes glossy.

The sound of the ambulance, the shuffling of the paramedics as they dashed up to the third floor, the familiar voice of Link as he addressed her. So caught up in her concern for Benjamin, she didn’t even consider her ire with him as she turned to him and begged him to not let anything bad happen.

Charlie had come up from behind and began to pull her away so they could tend to him, her hand slipping from Benjamin’s grasp. She protested and elbowed him, but he knew better, they needed to work. He took hold of her hand firmly, the other holding tight to her upper arm as got her to her feet. He watched with scrutiny as Link and his partner worked together with military precision on their patient, regardless of how he felt about him; or them currently. He was in work mode. He had to least give him props for that.

“Where are you taking him?” she asked as they began to leave.

“Oliver Medical Center.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” She stated, eyes never leaving them as they had him strapped to the backboard and carry him down the stairs. Once out of sight, she turned into Charlie, placing a hand on his chest. “I need to go.”

“Wait.” He said.

“I don’t have time for-” she began.

“I’ll go with you. Just let me get this inside and Bowser fed. Just a few minutes.”

She considered his offer. Being at the hospital with a friend was better than being alone. “Hurry.” She ordered, staying out in the corridor as he collected his things and rushed inside. She turned her back to the door and pulled her phone out. There was a person to call that she never expected to speak with again, even though her number was still saved in her phone.

Precious seconds felt like hours as she heard the phone trill. But finally, the click of the connection. “Eva…it’s me, Sam.”

…………………………

In the Oliver Medical Center’s emergency room, Sam had flown to the receptionist desk and asked to know where a certain Benjamin Lawson was being held. The woman behind the desk had seen every kind of concerned, frantic, crying, numb or angry person come up and demand information from her as if she were a mere robot, Sam being just one of many that she had dealt with a thousand times over.

“He’s still currently with the doctor. I’ll send him your way when he’s finished.”

Sam sat stoic and dazed until Charlie waved a Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of her eyes, snapping her out of it. Automatically, her hand reached up and she tilted it to her lips, but a moment later spat it out.

Charlie let out an unexpected laugh. “Perhaps a weaker Americano brew instead?” he suggested before taking his own sip. And then spitting it back out as she had done. “My god, what an abomination.”

They had ridden in tense silence up to the hospital, he focused on her and she focused on the road. Now, sitting in the waiting room, they could talk.

“So, it’s actually Benjamin, is it?” he asked.

She nodded, right hand clenching her left, fingers twisting around her ring finger anxiously. A puzzle piece slid into place. The ring he had seen in her nightstand. The relationship and Ruminate both coming to an end… the infidelity… Marshall/Benjamin’s reaction upon learning he was employed at Young Tech… They had history.

“Why Marshall Law?” she asked herself, lost with the thoughts in her head. “I mean, sure it’s a clever pun…”

“I honestly thought it was his real name. I can’t say we know each other well.”

“It’s alright Charlie, I’m just shocked. My past keeps coming up to bite me….” She looked up and sighed. “And here comes more.”

Charlie turned around to come face to face with his own shocker, as he knew the woman with short, spiky cut black hair as she eyed them and carved a direct path to them. “What happened to my brother?” she demanded with ferocity, her eyes burning.

“I can answer that.” Charlie piped up, taking the burden of Eva’s laser beam eyes onto himself.

“You.” She snarled. “Just what is the sheep shagger doing here?”

“I happen to be his next door neighbor.” Charlie retorted with ire. “And I was the one who performed CPR on him. You’re welcome by the way.”

“And here I thought you’d turn tail and run after that little duel of ours…” she smirked.

Sam watched the exchange, realizing now that their paths had crossed at the gym, in the fencing club. Another juncture of her past and her present colliding. The way she said duel reminded her of Charlie saying he had taken those bruises she’d seen in a duel he should’ve walked away from. Just as she was about to say something it was then that the doctor approached them, asking who was directly related to Benjamin Lawson.

“I am.” Eva admitted, throwing a mascara lined glance at her former sister-in-law. “But they can tag along…they brought him here.”

They all sat in a small briefing room, the doctor explaining Benjamin had a case of takotsubo cardiomyopathy, brought on by extreme stress. Sam cast her head to the side, not wanting Eva to see the tears welling up. Eva always teased her for being too soft. Charlie placed a hand on hers in a comforting gesture.

“….the condition is also known as Broken Heart Syndrome…”

Sam squeezed her eyes shut.

“…this condition is caused by an extreme adrenaline response, it doesn’t have to be something negative to trigger it….”

She could feel Eva’s black eyes peering at her, silently demanding answers, silently accusing her.

“…it can be fatal…he’s young and aside from the virus he’s currently fighting he’s very healthy….”

“..it’s possible it can happen again…steps will need to be taken to ensure he can handle stress better…”

Eva turned to the doctor. “Can I see him?”

He acquiesced, leading them to his room now that he’d been removed from the ICU. Sam felt her nerves twist and tangle, recalling her own experience with walls like these. Had she not felt a reassuring touch to her lower back from Charlie, she probably wouldn’t have the fortitude to trek down here alone. Or with Eva.

In a dark room, illuminated by machines and city scraper lights gleaming in the windows, Benjamin lay like a twisted modern day take on Sleeping Beauty, under a spell and kept alive by the magic of machinery. Eva came up to him first, speaking as softly as Sam had ever recalled, first in English, then switching to Japanese. She hated to admit it, but her Japanese was mediocre. Whatever words Eva whispered was a secret. But with the blink of an eye, she was standing upright, fixing her hair and proclaiming that he’d pull through.

“I have some calls to make.” She announced, leaving abruptly. It was her way of giving Sam the privacy to have her turn at Benjamin’s bedside. Charlie knew that Samara would want and need her moment alone and began to exit as well.

“I’ll just be out in the hall.” He reassured, closing the door behind him.

She crossed her arms. “So which is it now Benjamin? Or Marshall? As if I even knew who you were back then….”

The hurt came flooding back, the memories of their college whirlwind romance, him being her first. But for him…she had just been the flavor of the week. True, the week had actually encompassed a couple of years, but she had nothing to compare with Monica. Tall, confident, beautiful without trying. To think that Sam had idolized her, tried to emulate her…and then only to be left for her. It was a brutal hit to the self-esteem.

“Why did you re-upload Ruminate? How did you even have a master copy? And that terrible review video…you just had no idea what you got yourself into…” she asked out loud, not realizing that his eyes fluttered and he stirred.

“You’re right.” He weakly replied. “But I did it right the second time.”

“Second time?” she echoed, wiping away tears.

“But I didn’t deserve the dedication. You did most of the work.”

Her face crumbled under the attempt to stay strong, to stay impassive. Words she knew were true but couldn’t bear to hear. There had already been too many years that had passed. The wound had calloused over, the skin hard and protecting against the little pecking that had been wearing at her for weeks.

“Why are you even here?” he rasped, the oxygen mask distorting his voice. “Why even bother with me?”

“Because I could never forgive myself for leaving you if something happened. Plus, someone had to call your sister.”

He groaned. “You called Eva?”

“She actually just left. Do you want me to ca-?”

“God no!” he cried out, taking hold of her hand. The hand he had once slipped a ring onto.

Fire erupted in her veins, snaking up her arm and straight to her heart. Her palm shook and began to sweat, her chest pounded with fervor. “I want to tell you, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, so I won’t ask for it. I can’t undo what I did. But I’ve been talking with your assistant, he wanted to beat my ass into a pulp, then he called for a truce and convinced me to play it again.” He tried sitting up.

She pushed him back down. “No, don’t overdo it. What do you mean; you mean he knows about Ruminate? He knows about us?”

“I don’t know how he figured it out, I barely said anything. The guy’s smart. But thank him for me.”

Confusion was visible across her face. There was too much to take in.

As well as things that had not been said…

Benjamin’s eyes began to droop, his breath slowed. Whatever they had given to him was taking effect. “Want to talk…’bout Ruminate…”

“Later Benji. All of this can be dealt with later.” She said; not sure if she would actually adhere to that promise, to which hopefully he wouldn’t remember anyways. She left the room in silence, quietly shutting the door behind her, breathing out slow and hard breaths, trying to not need her inhaler.

……………………

Eva had found an alcove overlooking the city and stood at the large window, phone in hand. She was trying to console her mother, all the way in Japan with their grandmother, informing them of Benjamins’ situation. Her conversation bounced back between English and Japanese, regarding which woman she was addressing.

Charlie stood in silent observation from his spot in the hallway, having nothing else to focus his attention for the time being. Whatever was happening between Samara and Marshall was once again, none of his business. Would there ever be a time when he wasn’t going to tell himself that? He already knew too much as it was, and had the feeling he was due to explain himself quite soon.

Eva slung her leather jacket over her shoulder with a sigh once the call ended. She stood in contemplation as Charlie stepped up behind her, startling her so bad she let out a little scream.

“Geezus tits!” she spun around on him in a fury, “Where a damn bell you shifty weirdo!” His face remained passive as she collected herself. “The hell do you want anyways?”

“I’m sure this isn’t easy for you. I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

She scoffed. “Stop pretending you care. You can drop the gentleman act here.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You really thought that duel of ours sent me packing?” he let out a laugh. Then he rolled back his sleeve and held up his bandaged hand. “If not for an unfortunate little incident, I’d have been back the next day to put you in your place.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I don’t threaten women.” Charlie replied coolly, lowering his hand back down to his pocket. “You on the other hand, wanted a real fight-which I would not give into. You wouldn’t be the first woman to become hostile after I’ve rebuffed them. But what you did was not only unladylike, but unwarranted.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You strut into MY fencing club, acting like you’re so much better than everyone because you’re from the UK. You’ll learn whose top dog there.”

“Oh I have no doubt that you’re the alpha bitch.” He returned with an equal piercing glare. “You make sure to mark your territory the moment you enter a room.”

“Some nerve you have, talking to me like that. I wonder what dear little Sam would think if she heard you.”

“Let her think what she will. I’m sure she’s no stranger to your lack of manners.” He did not back down, nor did he give any opening. It seemed as of late, everyone in Samara’s life wanted a piece of him, and by now he was ready to hand those pieces out-but he’d see to it that they got every bit they asked for and more. “I’ll be seeing you soon Eva.” He concluded with a firm nod of his head before turning his heel and departing, leaving her with his backside to view at.

She bit her lip and scrunched her nose at his departure, swearing to herself that guys like him were nothing but trouble, despite wanting to jump his bones every time she saw him.
…………………

When Sam left Marshall’s room, she took her phone out to check the time. Her whole evening had been thrown to the wayside with this unexpected detour. Not that she had made any plans, but this was the last place she figured she’d be, and with whom. Seeing the Lawson’s again was way down on the list of things she could think of happening in her lifetime, despite knowing they also still lived in LA. It was large enough to be complete strangers with someone you once knew.

She didn’t see Charlie anywhere, assuming he’d gone to the bathroom. She didn’t know where Eva was, but she was beyond caring about that. It was time to just get out of here, and hopefully not bump into anyone else-

Suddenly, Link came up along the hall, stopping a few feet away from her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here, but I had to check.” He confessed upon seeing her.

She breathed in deeply, faced with a new set of anxieties. This situation was uncharted territory, for them both. The awkward tension between them was thick enough to slice through with a katana.

“How is he?” he broke the ice with the general question.

It took her a moment to find the words. “S-stable…” she managed to say, though she wasn’t even sure if that was correct.

“I’m glad I was there, for both of you.”

She nodded, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

He took a breath. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

Oh god, here it comes.

“Wait.” She said, holding a hand up. “I know. I know it was an accident. But what you don’t know is that Charlie already sustained injuries from fencing, and I was afraid….I don’t know….maybe you’d rupture something? Either way, I couldn’t just stand by and let you to tear each other apart in my own home.” She sniffed back the tears that threatened to come through. “But I see now….Vikki was right.”

She bravely took a step forward. “She told me, I needed to let you go. Because I would end up hurting the both of us. I just never figured it’d be so literally.”

Link closed the remaining distance but did not touch her. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to make this right. His hands, they reached out but pulled back an instant later. He hung his head, his long golden hair hiding the sides of his face as the silence loomed over the two of them. “There’s no coming back from this, is there?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t see how we could. You’ve always been afraid you’ll hurt me…and now….I just don’t see us being comfortable like it never happened.”

“This is not how I want things to end Sam.” He stated, bringing his head up. “I expected us to eventually agree to be together because we had no one else. I lost Angela, you lost Ben…but together we could make ourselves feel whole.”

“We weren’t whole Link. We weren’t even two sides of the same coin. It was just a temporary patch to a much deeper wound. And tonight, my wound has come back around…there’s of course no chance of him and I getting back together, but I might be needed because of his condition…How would you see that?” she asked, wiping an eye.
“Would you get jealous of him too? Think he was trying to win me back? And then turn those healer hands of yours into a weapon?”

At the mention of hands, Link clenched his, then unclenched and let them droop.

“We need to cut the tie, once and for all. Because I can’t watch you turn into someone you’re not.”

It was painful, to say those words, as well as to mean them. But they must be said. Even a doctor knew when it was time to remove a limb. Though they would always care for each other, always consider each other friends, things would never be as they once were. The teenage friendship that had developed into a crush that became a mutual benefit between two heartbroken adults had drawn the curtain with a tragic note.

In one last farewell parting, Link had reached for her, to which she flinched-ever so slightly, just enough for him to tell. He pulled his hand back, understanding all too well. Too soon. Far too soon. Maybe a week from now, or a month, even a couple of months…they could greet each other with a hug, part ways with a hug like they had always done, but today was not that day.

“Goodbye, Sam Young.” He whispered; voice barely audible.

“Goodbye, Link Hudson.” She whispered back, closing her eyes so she would not have to see him turn his back and walk away. She heard it though, those heavy steps in his signature gait, the chain on his pants dangling and making that clinking sound, the shuffle of his pants as the material swished with each stride….all slowly faded away into nothingness.
……………………..

Chapter Text

After his little spat with Eva, Charlie had taken refuge in a secluded alcove at the other end of the hall, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes closed. He heard the distinct clicking of Eva’s heels as she left; apparently choosing to make whatever others calls in a more private setting. The bruises on his chest felt like hot spots, each one burning to be avenged.

‘If not for this blasted cut, I’d have made her eat her words.’

In his reprieve, he reconsidered his abrupt choice to join Samara at the hospital. It had been so spur of the moment that he hadn’t given a second thought; he just knew that she’d need someone with her as she dealt with this. There was no telling what would come of it, if whatever connection she had to Marshall was strong enough to change how she felt.

‘But why should it matter to me?’ He thought. ‘Whatever she chooses to do…as long as it makes her happy…who am I to say?’

He was pulled from his bitter musing when he heard her speak. She was addressing someone, in tones so quiet he had to strain his ear to hear. Upon hearing the voice of Lincoln, his eyes shot open and he pushed himself off the wall, coming around and stopping short.

Samara and Link were a good distance apart, both stiff and awkward, just being cordial. Charlie slunk back from the corner of the wall, the guilt of him eavesdropping making him pull back just enough so that he wasn’t in their sight.

‘What am I doing? My mother would knock me upside the head if she caught me doing this.’

“…..what you don’t know is that Charlie already sustained injuries from fencing, and I was afraid….I don’t know….maybe you’d rupture something? Either way, I couldn’t just stand by and let you to tear each other apart in my own home.”

His ears perked at the mention of his name, realizing Samara was explaining herself for jumping into the fray like she had. He felt a cold stab in his chest hearing her express her concern for his safety, from what could’ve happened had he taken the hit. He’d never known someone to be so selfless, to stand up for others like she had done. He’d never had that back home, always on his own against his personal bullies. It was a strange sensation, to be both grateful and guilty for her kindness.

Her getting hurt though, it still didn’t sit well with him.

He pushed off the wall and took the opposite direction to another hallway where the elevators were located. It was time to make the right decision, and just leave.

…………………….

With nerves raw and chest aching, Sam finally opened her eyes after knowing a considerable amount of time had passed since Link’s farewell. She stood alone in a dim hallway, her first love away in his room, and her current lover now leaving her life for good.

‘What else am I going to lose?’

Her knees felt weak and her chest tight. Was takotsubo cardiomyopathy contagious? She certainly felt heart-broken. Somehow, this pain felt even worse than the first, when she discovered Marshall and Monica together in her bed, the act of betrayal unmistakable. But time had healed that shock, that pain gradually subsiding into heartburn rather than the erupting volcano it started as. This was entirely different, a new flavor of pain.

Nausea settled in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to be anywhere but here. Her head turned left, right, even up for some reason, suddenly wanting to find Charlie and get out of this depressing place. She took one end of the hall, expecting to find him at the large window overlooking from the third floor. From here, the city looked peaceful, beautiful…enchanting even. Towers of buildings lit from inside, twinkling in the fractals of glass she pressed her hands against seemed more like glowing computer parts on a circuit board. Not wanting to waste the energy of hunting him down, she pulled out her phone and sent a text.

SY: I’m finished visiting Ben, where are you?
. . . . . . .

The minute that past seemed so long.

CJ: I’m outside

SY: outside where?

CJ: outside of the building. I’m going home on my own, so you don’t have to worry about driving me back and then to your home

“What?” she asked out loud, confused on more than one level. Rather than deal with cryptic texts, she slid her thumb across and dialed his number.

It rang.

It rang again.

There was a third ring.

“God damn it, pick up!” she hissed, her anxiety rising. Finally, there was the click from the connection.

“What do you mean, you’re going home?” she demanded immediately. “I brought you here; we’re miles from your apartment! Do you even know how dangerous it is to walk this late at night?” she rattled off, suddenly no longer in control of the words flowing out of her. “How could you even think to leave without telling me?”

A heavy silence crackled in her ear as she stopped to take a breath, chest heaving as she tried to calm down. Her voice had cracked with her last question. She pressed a hand to her cheek, brushing her glasses as she wiped her eye.

“I am sorry Samara. I know it was rude of me, but I want to burden you no longer. You’ve already been through enough today.”

She stifled the cry that was nearly bubbling out. “Y-you said…you said you were a reliable friend….come what may…Or was that a lie?”

Charlie stopped in his tracks, wincing as his words from this morning were so cleverly and correctly used against him. He threw his head back and ran a hand roughly through his hair, grabbing a handful. He could hear in her voice, she was trying so hard not to cry. Damn it, why was this so difficult to do?

“You don’t….need me.” He gritted through his teeth.

A sob in his ear was the response.

‘Please Samara, try to understand…’ he mentally prayed, taking another step.

“I thought we were friends Charles.” She bitterly added. “Friends stay.”

He felt a jab in his chest that not even Eva’s cheap shot could compare to. Even from there, on the third floor and several meters away, her words reached him as if she standing before him.

His futile attempt to flee failed.

‘Please don’t beg, please don’t beg, please Christ don’t beg me…’

“….I need….a friend…”

FUCK.

Defeated. Utterly defeated.

He turned around and began marching back up the sidewalk path and into the Emergency Room entrance. “Alright Samara, as a friend…” he replied. “Just stay where you are.”

………………………

She remained at the window, forehead pressed to the glass, breath fogging the smooth surface. She idly drew her finger in the condensation to pass the time. Eventually news of this would make its way back into the office, to her family, to her father. There would be no doubt of the reaction she’d expect from him, at first being stern and impassive but then falling over himself to make sure she was fine.

Suddenly a large pale hand came into her peripheral vision, the index finger joining hers in her lazily drawn swirl. A smile crept upon her lips as she felt the heat from the proximity of his body. Was it just because he came back that she suddenly felt that butterfly tickle in her stomach? Or was it just because, it was him in general?

“I should explain my actions.” He said, still leaning over her, his hand on the window.

“No.” she answered flatly. “No more explanations tonight. I just need someone who knows what I’m going through and not say a word. Just until my nerves settle. Can you do that for me?” She turned around to face him, finding him exceptionally close, and pressed her back against the glass surface.

He was peering down at her, body supported by his hand that was anchored just above and to the side of her head. His hair was undone, familiarly shaggy and hiding one eye; and the other eye was piercing straight into her soul. She noticed the top button of his shirt was undone, just seeing that tiny peek of flesh had tingles rushing through her core. It dawned on her that she was pinned in place and would have to wait until he moved, which she felt he had no intention of doing.

“Are you certain?” he inquired, his other hand coming up to brush hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “I believe you’re aware that I’ve known certain things, things I had no right being privy to, and tried my best to not let on about.”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” She immediately responded, feeling a light tremor in her shoulders. Normally, she held her body in check, always in control due to keeping everyone at an arm’s distance. Unlike now, when all she wanted was the distance to close until there was nothing between, not even clothing.

“I hope that it won’t change your opinion of me.” He replied, finally pulling his hand away, leaning his body away from her as he removed his hand off the window.
She leaned off the glass, the smooth coolness leaving goosebumps on her arms and down her back. “We’ll discuss it later. For now….how bout some dinner?”

……………………….

The time spent at the hospital had been all consuming, mentally and physically. Neither one of them had the chance even for dinner, and had not dared anything from the vending machine or cafeteria after that horrid coffee. The mere mention of dinner had set both their minds solely on the task of procuring a quick and easy meal; none quicker or easier than pizza.

Back in her college days, Sam lived on cheap pizza and Dee’s brews, and a little cheap pizza would be the perfect comfort food after a night like this. She drove to a little Italian eatery she knew and asked them to add pineapple to one of their pre-made pies and carried it back to the car, not bothering to take a seat at one of their tiny tables for two.

Charlie held the hot cardboard box in his lap, shifting it constantly so as not to burn his legs, wondering why she had chosen take out like this. She certainly wasn’t attempting to eat and drive, and the pizza was large enough for the both of them, she had ordered it for the purpose of sharing. “Uh….Samara…where are we going?”

“Your apartment of course. I’m not gonna keep you another night away from Bowser.” She replied instantly, turning the steering wheel. She hadn’t seen the look that swept over his face, gone in the next instant.

‘She’s coming over to MY apartment?’ his inner voice cried out in alarm.

When she turned his way, his face was calm and composed, no hint of the trepidation welling up inside of him. He kept that facade the rest of the trek. ‘Now is not the time to let any little anxieties creep up when she asked you for help you dummy. Now man up and be the friend you said you were!’

As he carried the pizza he warned her that he didn’t have very many accommodations. She wasn’t perturbed in the slightest. “Oh you think because you’ve seen my place…that I’ll think less of yours? Is that what this?”

“Well…yes.”

“Charlie, I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth. Sure, I had some comforts but that was overshadowed by a lifetime in and out of the hospital. And I made sure to earn my way through college. I didn’t ever go to my father for money unless necessary. And that was rare.”

“Alright.” He heaved a sigh as he opened the door and allowed her to enter first, with her holding the pizza box as he fiddled with the key. “Now if you’ll-”

“Charlie!” a female voiced suddenly screamed.

Charlie immediately pulled the door shut; leaving Samara alone in his flat with Bowser, as Monica came dashing up to him in a frantic mess.

“What happened to Marshall? All Ms. Whipple said was that he was taken to the hospital, and that was hours ago! She didn’t even know which one!”

Samara heard the frenzied shouting, recognizing the voice instantly. She froze at the kitchen counter, almost too dazed to even think about what she’d have done if she was outside the door. There was absolutely no denying that Charlie was well aware of the potential drama that could have arose if they had made contact, especially given how emotional Monica sounded.

‘So he does know…’ she concluded, looking down at the cute plump pup at her feet. She squatted down and held out her hand for him to sniff, upon receiving approval, she went in for scratches. Under his chin, around his ears, between the shoulders, and down his back to his rump. He loved every second of it.

Thoroughly distracted by the cute canine companion, she was only slightly startled when Charlie finally re-entered his apartment, Monica now deterred and on a mission to throttle her stupid sick boyfriend. He inhaled and let loose the breath from his ordeal with the scary pink haired woman.

She got to her feet, opening the pizza box to release wafting steam and glorious distinct pizza smell. “I ought to thank you for that.” She said as she pulled a slice out. “I don’t think I’d have it in me to deal with one more character from my past.”

He cast his eyes down at Bowser, then back at her. “Making friends?”

“He’s an absolute cutie. I think he has a little crush on me now.” She teased. Then her face flushed and turned her head to the side and coughed. “Got anything to drink?”

“Of course.” He came up into the open kitchen and pulled out a glass for her. “I’ve never given Hawaiian pizza a try, but I’ll see how it goes.” He confessed, taking out plates.

“Put those back, we’ll just eat by hand.” She ordered, waving him to put his plates back in the cabinet. “This is how real Americans eat pizza. Like heathens.” She said with a satisfying chomp and a smile. She took her glass of water and half eaten piece of pizza as he picked up the box and made their way to his couch.

He had modest accommodations, perfectly suited for a single man living with a little dog. A basic style couch facing a standard size flat screen television, a regular wooden coffee table, a desk next to the TV with a computer and, Sam noted; a keyboard.

“Shouldn’t you take Bowser out? He’s been inside all day.” She said, realizing that the apartment was entirely too clean for a dog to have been indoors by himself for nearly twenty four hours.

“That was already taken care of.” He answered, taking a slice and inspecting it closely. “When I brought in the food and container I called Ms. Whipple and asked her to take him out while I was accompanying you to the hospital. That way she also would be informed of Marshall…I mean Benjamin.”

“So efficient.” She marveled, chewing with her dinner on side of her mouth. She barely could dial 911 without shaking. Watching him set to work on Benjamin had been terrifying while it was happening, though now that the danger had passed along with the hours, she had to admit it was incredibly attractive. Would he do the same to her if the need called for it? She pushed the awfully dark thought aside as she chewed more pizza. Bowser begged, his little stump of a tail shimmying to curry her favor. He tossed a paw in the air in her direction, letting out a little “arf” to flatter her. When that didn’t work, he head-butted her shin.

“I think you may be right about him.” Charlie remarked, noting how Bowser had never acted so friendly with anyone for as long as he had owned him. Then again, who could resist the likes and charm of Samara Young? He took a bite of the pizza slice, a strange combination of sweet and savory filling his mouth. It was unexpected, how well it blended together. So this is what the big controversy was all about?

“So, what do you think?” she asked as she watched his eyes widen, then close as he seemed to savor the flavor palette. It was rewarding, seeing someone try something for the first time, especially when it was something she personally loved.

He nodded with a mumbled sound of approval, seemingly at a loss for words. A dollop of sauce plopped onto his pants leg to his dismay, causing him to set his helping down in the open box. “If you’ll pardon me a moment.” He excused himself and headed towards his bedroom to undress from his work clothing and slip into his comfy casual favorites. He emerged from the bedroom with the slacks and set them in the kitchen sink, running water over the sauce blotch to quickly prevent the chance of a stain.

Sam tried to not pay so much attention to him as he worked, but she couldn’t help that he looked so damn good in a muscle shirt, that little button at the top undone, his hair swishing with every turn of his head. Her eyes may have been trained on the dog, the little beggar lovingly kissing her hand, but her sight was filled with a beautiful Welshman.

After dabbing the spot vigorously with a smidge of dish soap and scrubbing it, he set the slacks out on the counter to dry. He came back around and took his place on the couch next to her and continued his dinner. “Sorry about that.”

She waved her hand in the ‘don’t worry about it’ gesture as they continued to eat. It was a quiet, content passing of time, only filled with the sounds of chewing and the occasional food moan. Exactly what she needed right now.

“Do you mind if I give him the bone?” she inquired to his confusion.

“Bone?”

She laughed. “Oh, you probably aren’t familiar with the term.” She said, wiggling the crust in the air.

“Interesting.” He mused, making a mental note. “I think he’s put up with my disappearing act well enough to deserve a treat.”

She looked down at Bowser, who had his eyes fixed on the prize, target locked on every flick of her wrist. She had a gleam in her eye, a smirk to her lips as she jiggled it, enticing his already excited nerves as he yipped in anticipation. She flicked left-right, having him dart in the same direction; his little legs making him bounce.

“You’re going to give him a heart attack if you keep that up.” He joked as he closed up the pizza box. He enjoyed the easy going playful nature she had with Bowser, as if they had been friends for years. With a flick, the crust went flying across the living room, all the way to the foyer, with Bowser tearing up the floor in a blur of black after it. They both burst into mirthful laughter at the comedic display. Once he caught it, he scurried off to his little den and blissfully slobbered on it in privacy.

Charlie found himself becoming a leaning post as Sam fell into him from her laughter and then remained once it subsided. Nervously, he looped his arm over her shoulder, his hand lying against her upper arm. Now that there was no longer food or a dog to take her mind off her troubles, there seemed nothing else to do but let loose a sigh and lean on a friend’s shoulder. As promised, he stayed.

But silence was terrifying.

“Samara…”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?”

An exhausted sigh escaped her lips. “Of course there is. But, just not tonight.”

He bit his lip, wondering just what it was he was supposed to do in a situation like this. There hadn’t been very many times that someone relied on him for comfort, and silent comfort was completely alien. Sure, he could sit and listen if she wanted to vent and punch a pillow and voice her frustration and fears…he could handle that so much better than this. This terrible silence that seemed so loud, it was pounding in his ears…no wait, that was just his heartbeat.

“I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?” she asked, pulling herself away.

“No, it’s just…” he trailed off, hand clutching onto the sleeve of her cardigan. “I just figured that we’d be drinking tea and talking instead of…this.”

Her eyes darted away, trying to find refuge elsewhere. She knew that the moment she was alone in her car she’d break down. All the weight of today would come bearing down on her already weary shoulders and she would be in no condition to drive, let alone call for a cab. Just for what? To sleep alone in that large ass bed and deal with the voices jeering at her for becoming entangled with the Lawson’s once more? She needed an escape, something else to chase away the heartache, anything even remotely entertaining….

“Do you actually play?” she asked, eyes pointing towards the keyboard on his desk.

He turned, following her gaze. “Oh that? Yes actually.” When he met her eyes he knew she was silently requesting it of him. Even though he’d never played for anyone since living here, and normally his nerves would be triggered at the mere thought of having an audience, he let go of her sleeve and headed to the desk. He picked up the large and heavy piece of equipment and brought it to the coffee table, as Samara was pulling the pizza box away.

Her eyes widen in awe at the impressive instrument. This was no everyday keyboard; it was a Roland FANTOM-6 Music Workstation Keyboard. A beast among its kind. Surely a treasured gift. He took the pizza box to the kitchen as she leaned over the board and drank in its details. There were many toggles and buttons along with range settings, to achieve the sound one wanted.

He seated himself on the floor, cross-legged and pulled the instrument towards him, tested out a few keys and ran his finger along a dial until he was satisfied with the pitch. “Any requests?” he asked, looking up.

“Uh…I didn’t really think of any. Why don’t you just play something you know?” She scooted back, grabbed the couch pillow and hugged it to her chest as she also sat cross-legged.

“Chopin?” he suggested, beginning with Waltz in D-Flat Major, Op. 64, No. 1 like it was second nature. His fingers danced with grace along the plastic ivories, tilting his head side to side as counted in time to the melody. The electronic keyboard sounded just like a baby grand piano, the sound crisp and delicate, echoing with the right amount of pressure to the keys.

And so began a miniature concert for one, with Charlie as the solo artist.

Sam sat back, her eyes closed as she let the music sweep over her with tranquility. Each composition seemingly more beautiful than the last. Each one painting different images in her head, or just enveloping her in warmth, each one easing that terrible tension brought on by the day. Even when he played a more contemporary piece, it all seemed so healing.

So caught up in his delivery of music, he hadn’t noticed Sam’s head lean into her pillow, her body limp with sleep. He looked her way, seeing that she looked absolutely content with her eyes closed and her breathing languid. His hair fell over his eye again, causing him to shake it back as he continued the song. When he finished, she was still and quiet. Asleep.

Well, how could he blame her? She had already been tested to her limit earlier and was emotionally wrecked by the time they left the hospital; it wouldn’t have taken much to nudge her into unconsciousness.

There was one song though, swimming in the back of his mind that he knew, and the lyrics to it describing his growing feelings in bone-chilling detail. With her asleep, he felt emboldened to play it, to even sing it out loud. She’d never know.

“Trapped under your spell again, I can't say no to you. Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand. I can't say no to you.

Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly. Now I can't let go of this dream. I can't breathe but I feel good enough. I feel good enough. For you…..”

The piano keys rang out in a silent room, to a silent audience.

“Drink up sweet decadence. I can't say no to you. And I've completely lost myself and I don't mind, I can't say no to you. Shouldn't let you conquer me completely. Now I can't let go of this dream, can't believe that I feel good enough. I feel good enough. It's been such a long time coming but I feel good.”

Rather than belt out the vocals that Amy Lee was known for, he merely hummed. He didn’t want to wake Samara up after all.

“And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall. Pour real life down on me. 'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough. Am I good enough for you to love me too?”

Nearing the final part, his touch on the keys lightened.

“So take care what you ask of me. 'Cause I can't say no…..”

He sat for a moment, the song over. His voice had been soft and low, no one even outside his door would’ve heard him. With a little flick, he turned the keyboard off, then he got to his feet and carried it back to his desk. It was solid and heavy, but he managed to set it down with very little noise. Bowser came bounding out of his little den, butt wiggling.

“Shhh boy, we can’t wake the princess now can we?” he bent low and scooped him up. “I think it’s best you stay with me tonight.” He carried Bowser to his bedroom and set him on the bed before pulling a spare blanket from his closet and tracing his path back to the living room.

Sam was still sitting cross-legged, head and arms using the pillow for support. He carefully slid her glasses off her face and took her head in his hands. “Samara…” he called gently, trying to ease her off the pillow. She jerked with a start, wiping at her face and discovering her glasses were gone. “Hey Bunty, it’s alright, I have them.”

Her hand ran through her hair as she groaned. “Oh god, I’m so sorry I fell asleep. I should be going-” she stood up and grabbed for the glasses. He held them above her head like he had done with her keys.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. Driving exhausted has been proven to be more dangerous than being intoxicated.” He said flatly. “I have a perfectly good sofa and blanket right here.”

To prove his point, a yawn escaped her. She slunk her shoulders with defeat. “Fine.”

“Thank you. The bathroom is along the hall to the right if you need to go.” He offered as he flung out the blanket and laid it across the couch. She meandered down the dark hall and flicked on the bathroom light. She conducted her business and washed her hands, all the while scolding herself for being so childish, intruding into her assistant’s life and apartment like this.

‘This is not what I wanted to happen…’

Lust: bitch please, who do you think you’re fooling?

‘Not now you. I was just fine a moment ago’

Lust: you wanted to be here, don’t lie

‘I’m not denying I wanted to be here, but I didn’t expect to be sleeping over’

Lust: LIAR. You had him spend the night, and you wanted more than just sleeping….didn’t you?

‘Go away’

KNOCK KNOCK

“Everything alright in there Bunty?”

Lust: oooh, he even has a nickname for you…

“Yes!” she cried, flinging the door open, water dripping off her face.

“Sorry, was I interrupting?”

“You took my glasses; I was having trouble adjusting to the bright light.”

“My apologizes. But at least holding them hostage ensures you’re not going to try to sneak out and drive home.” He pulled a wash cloth off the towel rack and held it up for her to dry her face with. “Would you like something to sleep in?”

She held the washcloth to her face, eyes peering over the rim. Was he teasing her? He didn’t appear to be. She’d been wearing this outfit all day and was certain the pits reeked from stress sweat. “Yuff.” She mumbled into the terrycloth.

“Pardon?” he leaned in, smile on his face. “You’re going to have to speak up.”

She yanked the washcloth down and scrunched her nose. “I said, yes.” She repeated in a flat tone.

“I’ll get you one of my shirts then.” He turned to his bedroom and shuffled through his dresser a moment, then returned a moment later with a simple V neck. She had slipped her cardigan off and was standing there in her tank top and slacks. He stopped short, her bare shoulders oddly enticing as one of the straps had slid down, drawing his eye.

“I still say I’m ok to drive.” She insisted stubbornly, taking the shirt from him with a little pout.

“Any other night, and I’d believe you. I can’t imagine the turmoil you’re trying to so hard to not show. You asked me to stay with you, and I am.”

She bit her lip, her chest tightening.

“So please, don’t make me worry about you more than I already do.” His hand came up of its own violation; sliding his finger under the strap and lifting it back up on her shoulder. Afraid he had gone too far, he pressed her shoulder, trying to reassure himself as well as her that he only meant to fix it. “There.” He said, pulling his hand back quickly.

“T-thanks…” she shivered, and not from the temperature. She immediately turned to the living room as he took the bathroom, both of them quickly putting distance between each other. She flung the tank top to the floor after slinking her way out of it and carefully slid one arm in the shirt at a time, thankful it was wide enough for the exaggerated movements she had to make in order to get it on with her injury. Nothing like the fiasco in her closet…

She took the inhaler out of her pocket and set it on the coffee table and sat on the couch to slide her shoes off. Her slacks felt too tight, given that she had dozed off while hunched over, there were crease lines against her hips and stomach that were too sensitive to deal with the snug fitting pants. Making sure the coast was clear, she leaned back and unzipped them, then kicked her legs until they flew off. She grabbed the blanket and swung it over herself as she heard him exit his bathroom.

‘Wooo, just in time!’

Lust: like you wouldn’t want him to know

‘Shut up. You’re constantly twisting everything into something it’s not!’

Lust: wouldn’t you prefer being in his bed instead out here?

‘Absolutely NOT. We’re just friends.’

Lust: friends who have been awfully close lately.

‘Just friends-’

“I’m going to be working in my room, so don’t be afraid to knock if you need anything.”

Sam snapped out of her inner argument with herself, gripping the blanket, she forced a smile and thanked him. She shimmied into position and rolled onto her side. “Thank you.” She cast her eyes downward. “For everything.”

“Of course Samara.” He replied, “Goodnight.”

He flicked the light switch and left, having a goal in mind to keep his thoughts off her, half dressed and on his couch. In his room he had stored his backpack, removed the new laptop and started it up, getting familiar with the machine as he would need to get a jump on the GUI in the morning. Ruminate would have to wait another night.

…………………………..

Chapter Text

Charlie worked himself into exhaustion, almost too tired to take his glasses off before closing the laptop and falling asleep, arms curled around Bowser and out like a light. The sharp trill of the alarm snapped him out of his rest all too soon, but he stretched and yawned, avoiding the morning licks from Bowser as he bounded around the bed gleefully.

“Alright boy, in a minute.” He said, waving the dog off him. He flexed his right hand, wondering if today was too soon to uncover the wound. The skin felt tighter than usual, but that was a sign of healing. He stood and stretched, his shirt riding up across his torso as he popped his shoulders and his back. A few moments of touching his toes, coming up and reaching skyward, and he was feeling limber enough to face the day.

He unplugged the laptop and gathered it and its cord into his backpack so as not to forget it. Since he’d been a week without a fencing lesson, it dawned on him that he should at least make an appearance at the gym before Eva could spread any rumors about his absence. Who knew what she may have already said? But her vindictive streak wouldn’t let her leave it alone.

He pulled open his bedroom door and was suddenly enveloped in the scent and sound of food cooking; bacon sizzling and eggs being whisked up in a bowl. Curiously, he crept down the hall until he came upon a surprising sight; Samara standing in his kitchen, wearing only his shirt-that barely covered her panty clad bottom-and working diligently at his stove top.

“Morning.” She replied in a singsong voice, keeping her eyes solely on her task, and not at his slack-jawed stare. He snapped out of it when she turned and handed him a mug of coffee. “It’s black.” She warned. “Do you like them scrambled?”

“Uh, what?” he asked, still dazed.

“Eggs silly. Scrambled eggs.”

“Yes.” He blurted out, the question still not registering but he figured he ought to say something. He turned to his fridge and retrieved the cream for his coffee, wondering if right now was the dream, and if so, why was it this?

He took a sip, burning the tip of his tongue, but still not fully convinced he was awake. “Am I….dreaming?” he said out loud.

She laughed. “Oh that’s cute, I’m sure every guy has had this dream at some point though.” She scrapped the spatula along the skillet, carving a path through the yolk mixture. “I didn’t want to get dog hair all over my pants, no offense. And your couch was quite comfortable, thank you.” She continued speaking as she worked, unaware of Charlie closing the distance between them. When she accidentally elbowed him, she looked up, only to be met with one of his hands cradling her face, bringing himself down to meet her lips that had parted in surprise.

“Char-mmph!” she gasped, dropping the spatula and bringing her hands up to his chest. His other hand had snaked to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her first instinct was to push him away, to fight him and slap his face and scream-all fleeting in the span of a second-before surrendering to the embrace and gripping the material of his shirt and pulling him into her.

Time had frozen right then, the two testing this fledgling experience, as if it were entirely brand new. Samara was no stranger to it, and yet, right now it felt like this was how a first kiss should be. The first kiss a girl should ever be graced with. When his lips parted from hers, eyes heavy-lidded, he caressed her cheek lovingly.

“If I’m dreaming, I don’t want to wake up.”

Heat burst within her chest at his words, spreading to the top of her head all the way down to her toes in an instant.

“The eggs are going to burn.” She stated, snapping him back to reality.

“O fy duw.” His face drained of blood, him becoming even paler-which she never thought possible.

“Charles?” suddenly concerned that he would pass out, she slid the skillet off the burner and was about to reach for him when he turned tail and dashed back down the hall, a door slamming shut a second later.

“Oh shit.” She said to herself, standing there with Bowser at her feet. There was nothing else for her to do but finish with making breakfast. Once finished, she tentatively approached his bedroom door, knocking gently.

“Breakfast is ready.” She softly stated, trying to sound completely neutral and non-judgmental. “I was going to take a quick shower if you didn’t mind…I don’t have time to drive all the way home…and I kinda need a shirt to wear…I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine!” he cried out from the confines of his room. “I’ll get you a shirt.”

She placed her hand on the door. “Charles…I-I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re worried about. Please come out.”

“I can’t. N-not right now. J-just g-go take your shower…”

Feeling a stab in her heart at his cracking voice, she knew he was completely embarrassed at his actions and just wanted to curl up and die. “I will, just promise to come eat something.”

She collected her slacks and tank top before heading into his bathroom, stepped into the shower stall and flung the water on hot. The heat beat down on her shoulders and back, the only pressure she could handle on the tender spot. She grabbed his bar of soap and lathered herself briskly. This was not a leisurely shower, just one of necessity. There’d be no way she could walk into work, wearing the exact same clothing from the day before and smelling like Charlie’s cologne and cute dog.

Upon hearing the door open and then quickly close shut, she peered out to see a neatly folded button up shirt resting on top of her slacks. It didn’t take her long to finish after that, and she stood there drying herself vigorously when the front door closed. For a moment, she worried that he had simply fled, but then concluded he must be taking Bowser for his morning routine. Once thoroughly dry, she redressed into her bra and underwear, adding on the slacks and her tank top afterwards. She opened the bathroom door to release the hot air so the mirror could de-fog, wiped the condensation off her glasses and slipped the borrowed shirt up her arms.

“Charles?” she called out. There was no answer. She tip-toed out of the door; head peering to check the all-clear. She stepped into his bedroom to see if either he or the dog was inside and found a full length mirror. “Oh, perfect.” She said to herself, moving to stand in front of it to button her shirt and tuck it in properly. As she set to her task, she heard the door open and Bowser’s happy yips as a helping of dog food was poured into a bowl for him.

“Try to be a good boy today.” She heard Charlie say in a parental tone.

Seeing as she wasn’t in the living room, he figured she must still be in the bathroom, so he took to the hallway to his bedroom and stopped short as he caught her standing in front of his mirror, tucking in her shirt, her backside facing the mirror and her looking over her shoulder to make sure it was even.

Her eye caught him, startling her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”'

“You didn’t. And if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”

She nodded. “Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen. I’ve got to help Dad with a video conference call in Paris that starts in an hour, so I need to be going.” She fixed the lapels and started to exit, but Charlie held up a hand.

“Hold on, you’re missing something.” He said.

He moved around her and opened the closet, selecting one of his decorative ties. It was actually the one she helped retie on him his first day wearing it. “You’re always telling me I should dress more professionally.” He turned around holding it up to her. “It’s only fair.”

Half a smile crept up her face as the tie slipped easily from his fingers and into her palm. He watched as she draped it over her neck and slid it under the lapels, and then began the process of creating the loop to pull the end through and finishing the job with a flourishing flick of her wrist. “Hope you were paying attention.”

“As always Missus Young.” He replied. “I’ll see you at the office.”

She pressed the tie to her chest, a futile attempt to quell the butterflies’ still fluttering loose inside. It was best to keep that professional wall between them, the formal use of address, and the physical distance. She gave a firm nod and exited the room without a word. Securing her inhaler and keys, giving Bowser a final pat, she left the apartment, scurrying down the stairs in haste.

Within the little sanctuary of her car, she released the breath she’d been holding with a frustrated cry, burying her face in her hands. She kicked on the radio and turned on the volume so it could overshadow the voices all screaming at her in her head. What was she doing with her life? Getting involved with her assistant like this? Not that it would technically be breaking any company policy rules, it was still just a standard no-no. Not that couples who went into business together couldn’t make the dynamic work…but when co-workers become couples? That usually didn’t last; the balance of power was already established.

She pulled out of the parking space with a squeal of tires, just needing to get to the office. Getting to work would distract her from these thoughts.

………………

Charlie appreciated the fact that she had bothered to cook, let alone brew up coffee-which he was still trying to get correctly done on his own-even though he waited too long to enjoy it hot. While she took her shower he had very carefully snuck one of his shirts in for her, then took Bowser outside to do his business. He made damn sure to feed him upon reentry and had found her in his bedroom.

She was absolutely lovey, standing at his mirror, rear sticking out as she tucked in his shirt. Somehow, it looked just as sexy as anything he’d imagined her wearing, with the addition of his tie; she had that “Boss” look that was equally masculine and feminine. He inhaled the chilled meal, changed into another of his work shirts and added his clip-on tie. He unwrapped his hand and took care cleaning it, hoping that going to fencing class after work would not hinder its healing. After stuffing his gear into the backpack, he left his little home on swift feet. Upon arriving at his bus stop, he glanced at his phone and breathed a sigh of relief that he had time to spare. Maybe he could slip over to the Daily Grind and pick up a to-go cup.

It had to be done sooner than later, and might as well be sooner.

He walked right in, immediately making eye contact with Lincoln. He approached the counter with feigned nonchalance, and placed his order, and telling him to make one for Samara. With a little too much force, Link closed the register drawer and jerked the handle of the brewing machine, but otherwise said nothing nor glared.

Right then, the curvaceous and usually smiling Dee approached the counter and slapped a hand down. “Link! Don’t be so rough with that!” she admonished, then turned to Charlie. “You must be the guy he tried to hit.”

Charlie inhaled. “Are you going to ban me from your establishment?” He picked up the to-go cup container after Link set it down and stepped away.

“Hell nah, I don’t do things like that unless you’ve done something here. As long as you two boys can play nice...” she said, glaring at her employee and then back at him. “…then we’re good.”

“I appreciate that.” He said while he turned to leave. He was surprised when Dee walked in tandem with him.

“How’s my girl doin?” she asked in a lower volume.

He breathed in, contemplating his next words… “Benjamin ended up in the hospital last night. She was quite distraught. Perhaps a visit or call from you is what she needs.”

“Oh lordy Jesus what did that boy do now?”

He saw the bus pull up. “Must go! Thank you Missus Dee!” he cried, pushing out the door and down the sidewalk, careful not to spill the drinks.

Dee turned to Link with her hands on her hips. “Ok, what the hell happened last night?”

……………….

Sam rounded the receptionist desk with determination and fierce steps, causing Lucy to halt in her greeting, feeling something was off. She handed her the mail and remarked how smart she looked, to which Sam just nodded along and peered up at the clock on the wall. The Paris video conference was still forty-five minutes away, but it was always best to think half an hour ahead when dealing with international calls, so her nerves jittered at the imagined fifteen minute deadline she had set.

“Hey, great tie by the way, reminds me of the one Charlie wore when he first came here. Isn’t that funny?” Lucy laughed. “I only remember because it was such a shock.”

Sam’s back tingled with icy nervousness. Lucy was too damn keen on details even when she wasn’t aware of it. Which made her exceedingly well at her job. “Lucy, do you have any foundation?” she suddenly asked.

“Of course! I wasn’t going to say anything, but you look a little….”

“Yeah, you don’t have to say it. I went through some…stuff last night.”

Lucy handed over a make-up bag from her purse like it was a lifesaver. In a way, it was. But anything for a sister in need. Samara accepted the gift and darted off to the ladies room, leaving the mail behind along with her briefcase. A few minutes later, Charlie came along the same path with a cardboard cradle containing two to-go coffee cups. He set them down on Lucy’s desk.

“The Daily Grind? How’d you know that was her favorite?” she asked, shifting her glasses.

“It was mentioned in passing. Do you have a permanent marker?”

“Sure.” She replied. “Black, red, blue…”

“Black is fine.” He answered, taking the specific color from her hand. He picked up the cup designated for Samara and wrote something along the collar. It caught his eye; that her briefcase and the mail was still here when it normally would’ve been carried away. He glanced over at the clock. The meeting was still forty minutes away.

“Uh oh…what’s that about?” she asked as she accepted the marker back, having seen the message.

“Would it be terribly rude of me to say, that I’d rather not discuss it?” he inquired, slipping it back into the cradle and collecting her things. “Is she in her office?”

“Unless there’s a mirror in there, I doubt it.” She let out a laugh. “Well, I hope this helps you get on her good side.” She added as he walked by. Once he was around the corner she pulled out her notebook and grabbed a pencil.

COFFEE CUP WITH ‘SORRY’ WRITTEN - what does he have to apologize for?
……………………….

Charlie stepped right up to her office door and didn’t hesitate to open it. He knew that if he hesitated to knock that he’d probably lose any nerve he had spent the whole bus ride mustering. The light was off, the computer off. She hadn’t even entered. He made quick work of his task, setting her briefcase down in one of the chairs, and the mail and coffee cup upon her desk, then he fled to the sanctuary of his own and flicked on his light.

From his backpack he produced his new laptop and set it up, and noticed that Umed had indeed come for the boxes of files for the data entry as promised. He opened up the folder and began looking over the GUI account. With a sip from his cup, he set to work.

Sam emerged from the ladies room, all visible signs of exhaustion painted over with make-up. Foundation and mascara, a touch of blush and lip tint. She even borrowed a hair tie to pull her hair up in a bun. It was good to have a girlfriend in the office. When she returned to Lucy’s desk, visible confusion dotted her brow. “Where’s my stuff?”

“In your office, courtesy of your assistant.” Lucy replied with her usual pleasant smile, taking her make-up bag and putting it back into her purse. “You look fabulous, you’ll knock that Frenchman dead!” she teased with a wink.

Sam just shook her head and headed over to her father’s office, seeing him fiddle with a cable at the end of his monitor. However brilliant Samuel Young was at management and investment, he still could be all thumbs when handling delicate items, such as tiny outlets. “Oh Sam Pumpkin, just in time to save me.” He sighed with relief upon her entry.

Her little hands were just perfect for adjusting the cable and securing it in place. “If you don’t mind, I need to run to my office for a moment, then I’ll be right back.”

“You brushed up on your French right?” he asked.

“Bien sûr papa.” She replied with a smile.

She came to a stop in her doorway upon seeing the dark red coffee cup from The Daily Grind on her desk. As unexpected as it was to have any coffee cup there at all, it was even more of a shock to see that particular one. She gingerly picked it up and turned it so the spout faced her and saw a beautifully written ‘I’m Sorry’ across the collar. A hand came to her mouth as she felt the weight of those words, stifling the emotion welling up in her throat. She wanted to thank him, to at least say something than ‘just pretend it didn’t happen’ but who was she kidding? It had been a whim, nothing to take seriously.

She dashed the thought away and picked up her briefcase-what she had come here for-and opened it in search for a manila folder containing the guidelines for the deal they were about to discuss. She took it and the coffee cup back to her father’s office and handed him the folder, taking a sip. Her familiar blend…

‘He actually ordered my usual?’ she wondered, taken back by that fact. ‘That crazy Welsh bastard…actually has the gall to walk right back into a place where he knows he’s going to run into Link and the audacity to order my usual?’ Suddenly a little giggle escaped her throat.

“What’s so funny pumpkin?”

“Nothing!” she immediately came to, straightening her back. Time to get into Work Mode. Her father glanced over the guidelines of the deal proposal she had typed up the day prior. His brow furrowed in contemplation as he considered one particular aspect of the deal, but it was still negotiable. They received an email informing them the other party was ready moments before the screen blinked to life with members of the Paris party. As they were a whole nine hours ahead, they were nearing the end of their workday, so everyone made the greetings short and jumped right into conference.

The Young’s familiarity with speaking French earned them a point of respect from their foreign business associates, who dismissed their translator after just a few sentences from Samara as she walked over the guidelines of their proposed deal. With her business chic attire, hair pulled back into a professional style bun and dark glasses framing her eyes she certainly had their attention, who were used to seeing American business women in cleavage revealing power suits and flashy earrings. She didn’t have to worry about them not meeting her eye. They were taking her as seriously as if she were Samuel’s son.

But father and daughter made an excellent negotiating team, Samara taking the aggressive role and Samuel on the more laid back approach. If she was going to be CEO, she had to know when to play hardball or softball. If she couldn’t secure an advantageous portion of this deal, her father would likely not ever consider retiring within the next three years. She wanted to secure it by thirty. She had to prove she could do it.

Perhaps it was the time zone difference, it nearing dinner time for them, and their hunger getting the better part of their judgment and patience. As the sky darkened behind them they grew more restless, tapping pencils and one even snapping at another across the table. But Sam could see their resolve fading, and all she had to do was wait for them to bite the bait. After all, gentlemen, this offer can’t sit for very long…

“Nous sommes d'accord.” The manager proclaimed. “Vous conduisez une bonne affaire mademoiselle.” (We agree. You drive a hard bargain miss.)

She only smiled a fraction of what she had wanted, a tiny curl of her lip as if he had merely complimented her outfit and nothing more. Inside, she was ear-to-ear grinning with delight. “Merci.”

At the conclusion of the deal, with their secretary faxing them a copy of the agreed upon terms, Sam and her father parted with kind words to their clients and ended the chat.

“Well done Sam.” Mr. Young said, clamping a beefy hand on her shoulder. She had to hold back on releasing a sound, though she couldn’t avoid the wince completely. “Oh sorry hon, are you alright?”

“Fine dad, just might’ve overextended myself this weekend.” She weakly delivered but at least believably. It wasn’t completely untrue… “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be back in my office. I’ve got my own things to do.”

“Course pumpkin, oh I was thinking of us having another family brunch this weekend? It’s your turn to host.”

She brought a hand up to her temple. It had completely blanked from her mind, the data erased by all the coming drama the past week. “I dunno dad, I’ve been so caught up with things that I haven’t even planned my own meals, let alone one for the family. Can I take a rain check?”

“I suppose.” He pouted. It had already been rescheduled the last time it was her turn. He watched her exit, his brows tented and arms crossed as he wondered what it would take to bring his little girl back to the person she used to be.
……………………

Charlie typed away diligently at his laptop, completely engrossed in his work. The only time his eyes were off the screen was when he reached for his coffee and to glance down at the folder. He hadn’t even noticed that an entire hour had gone by. More time would’ve gone by if he didn’t need to answer the call of nature. Begrudgingly he pushed away from his desk and made a bee-line for the men’s room. He’d been in such a groove with his work that he hadn’t noticed the time nor wanted to stop. As long as he was busy, he wasn’t thinking about….

At the sink, he washed his hands, taking care to not scrub so hard on his right palm and patting it dry afterwards. Umed walked in shortly after. “How’s that GUI coming along?”

“Nicely.” Charlie answered, focused on his hand.

“Oh? Just nicely?” Umed shrugged. “Guess you don’t want to toot your horn too soon.”

“Something like that.” He murmured, exiting without another word. Just get back to the office and back to work…. He rounded the corner of Lucy’s desk, stopping short when Samara literally popped up from his feet, picking up a pen that rolled off the desk. She jumped back a bit, grabbing the desk for support. When she looked up he caught sight of the make-up job she had done and felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Thanks Sam.” Lucy said, shoving the pen back into the holder with the rest.

“Uh, my apologies Missus Young.” He stumbled over his own tongue trying to deliver the words properly. “You…look…nice.”

“Ah, thank you…” she replied just as awkwardly.

“Someone dolled herself up for some client schmoozing.” Lucy joked at their expense, feeling their tension build. “Good thing they’re all the way in France and not in person or they might try to snatch her up.” She laughed as the phone rang. “Young Technologies, Lucy Wright speaking.”

“So…client schmoozing?” he echoed her words with a Cheshire cat smirk. “I didn’t think you played that way.”

For a brief moment Sam felt her ire rise, her body temperature increasing with every beat of her heart. Seeing him throw that playful smile at her was almost too much to take. But she decided two could play the game of ‘Totally Avoiding The Kiss Like It Never Happened’ and demurely tilted her head. She purposely blinked slowly so she has his attention.

“Jealous?” she teased. “That’s a cute look for you.” She enjoyed the rise of his eyebrows and the narrowing of his eyes before she turned and left for her office. “Get back to work lackey.” She chuckled over her shoulder.

“Aye ma’am.” He replied, giving Lucy a courteous nod as he veered towards the hall.

With the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, typing away at her computer she just smiled. They were trying so hard, and yet failing so terribly to be subtle. She loved it.
…………………….

It was a safe bet to say that Samara had no intention of asking Charlie what he loved about himself today, not after this morning. Not after how utterly terrified his face looked after he realized he had not been dreaming. She was just trying to save him more embarrassment. It seems they were both on the same page, just acting normal…if however they acted could ever be considered normal. Every conversation just seemed riddled with sexual innuendos and all too close encounters.

She’d never been so drawn to someone as she’d been finding herself with him. It was scary. Not even with Link had they flirted like she found herself doing with Charlie. And certainly not with Fred. It had just been strictly carnal pleasures and lonely nights afterwards, hating herself for what she’d done, feeling like she was degrading herself to less than nothing. Though Link had been there some of those tear-drenched evenings as she attempted to drown her sorrows, somehow she believed she hadn’t been nearly as vulnerable as she had just been the night before.

Asking Charlie to stay with her…..as a friend? She couldn’t even convince herself of that being the solid truth; she doubted he bought that either. But he stayed, hadn’t he? Even though he tried to run off…to which right then she didn’t care what the reason was, but now, it was starting to tickle the back of her brain. Why would he do that? And saying she didn’t need him? What bullshit was that? He was becoming more important to her with each day. He made her smile, laugh. He made her think, he reminded her of her past self. He brought her a sense of renewed energy when she had fallen into a dark rut.

His beautiful eyes, the way pierced right through her, it was like she couldn’t lie even if she wanted to. Sure, he was certainly beautiful, but he kept himself so reserved it was almost like he was self-anxious about it. Humble. Then again, there was a layer just under the surface that had only come out when she had stupidity put herself in harm’s way. If ever soft gentle eyes could suddenly become icy daggers, he had that locked down. The way he had stood up to Link had been a little terrifying. She hadn’t thought him capable of presenting himself in that way.

She cradled the empty coffee cup in her hands, looking at the elegant scrawl in black sharpie. She was all too familiar with Link’s heavy handed blocky lettering to be even halfway convinced it came from him. And she had spied one of the familiar red Styrofoam cups on his desk as well when she slunk back into her office. She tapped her fingers along it. At some point they were going to have to talk about what happened.

Eventually.

Sooner than later.

A ring from her phone startled her out of her thoughts. She picked up the receiver and was immediately greeted with Lucy’s voice, sounding ever so slightly nervous. “I have a… Monica McKenzie requesting to speak with you.”

…………………………….

The door opened to reveal the woman with pink hair, dressed respectively in a shoulder baring billowy blouse and painted on jeans with an eye catching belt buckle and dangling earrings. She always had a corresponding purse to match, Sam recalled asking her how many she had at one point back in college. Her nails were terrifyingly long talons, manicured masterpieces that somehow didn’t hinder her hands’ function. Sam never had figured out just how some women did it.

“Well, this is unexpected.” She said, still seated at her desk.

“Even if I knew where you lived, I doubt you’d had let me get this close, so I knew coming here was the only way we could talk.”

Sam scoffed. “Or perhaps you think that this being my place of employment, that there’s less likely the chance of a fight. I think we made it clear in our last encounter that we’d stay out of each other’s lives….as much as one life ruiner can.”

Monica raised an eyebrow. “Life Ruiner?” she scoffed. “Calm down, that was years ago and your life doesn’t look ruined to me.” She gestured to the office around them. “You’ve done quite well actually. Though I still question your fashion choices.”

Of course she would notice right away.

“Why are you here? Is there something about Ben that the doctors need me for?”

“Ben’s doing alright, all things considered. Mind if I sit?” she asked, hand open and waving towards one of the chairs. Sam merely nodded. “I got to the hospital in enough time to see him for a bit, and it scared me to think how close I came to losing him….had it not been for you and Charlie.”

The words ‘losing him’ put a bitter taste in her mouth.

“I didn’t do anything.” Sam replied in a small voice, eyes cast to the side. She still felt like a failure for barely keeping it together.

“The hell you didn’t. You were right there by his side, held his hand…he told me everything.” Her former friend insisted with her eyes glistening from the threat of tears. “You even called his sister. I can imagine how hard that must’ve been.”

Sam crossed her arms. “Yeah well, I couldn’t let him just die. I was just being a good Samaritan.”

“A good Samaritan doesn’t go to the hospital-the one place in the world they are least comfortable in-and stay by their ex’s side either. You’ve always been a good person, even to those who don’t deserve it. This is a debt I cannot repay.”

That uneasy tight-chested feeling began pinching at her ribs despite her efforts to breathe calmly. “I’m not asking for anything in return. What could I possibly want from you?”

Monica bit her plump glossy lip. The truth was, Sam hadn’t needed her for years. She had taken what she taught her in college and grew into her own woman. “Maybe we could just…not be enemies anymore?”

Sam slammed her hands on the desk and pushed herself back from the wooden structure, rising to her feet. “You come here after all these years NOW, wanting to pretend like it never happened and be friends? All because I showed one courtesy? That’s not how this works!”

From his office Charlie heard the raised voices and immediately stopped typing. It didn’t matter who Samara was yelling at, he was already on his feet and barging into her office, stopping suddenly when Monica came into view. She turned at his presence and gave him a smile before returning back to Sam.

“I swear to god Charlie, if there’s one fight I don’t need your help with, it’s this one.” Sam growled, hands clenched into fists.

“Alright fine, it was stupid of me to think that this would work.” Monica said, getting to her feet. “Olive branch rejected. I’m not surprised. We just wanted to show our gratitude, in some way. I know it can’t be like it was.” She shifted the purse on her shoulder. “Just know that we both do regret how things ended.”

“Like that makes any difference, you’re still with him. You’ve been with him longer than I ever was.” She unclenched the fists and stood straight. “You got your prince, your happily ever after. All you had to do was just steal it from me. Clearly, you two are more suited for each other…. I was just too naïve to see it.”

Monica shook her head. “I don’t blame you.” She said, to everyone’s surprise. “You were inexperienced and didn’t understand everything when it came to a serious relationship. And you were working so hard on your dream project…I honestly applaud the hard work you put into that. But he’s human Sam, not a puppy that can be satisfied with a belly rub and wait for the next time you come home…he had needs…and yeah it was wrong of us. Really wrong.” She sniffed back a tear that was just hanging by a lash, ready to fall any second. “If I could change how we met, I would.”

Sam wiped at her eyes as well. “Jesus Christ, if I could change how we met I would too. But I can’t, so I’m just going to aggressively ignore that part of my life until it finally fades into nothing.”

“That’s not going to work and you know it. But fine, I get it.” She heaved a sigh and turned around. “You’re still here?” she blurted at Charlie. “No wonder you know so much about all this.”

“Yeah, he’s a quiet one.” Sam quipped, snatching a tissue and dabbing her eye. “I’ve just gotten used to it by now.”

Monica passed by Charlie, thanking him for his assistance with Marshall-he noted, not Benjamin-and remarked that either way, they were grateful as she made her departure. He lingered at the doorway, prepared for Samara to turn her teeth onto him and rip his throat next.

She slunk back into her chair and pulled it back up to her desk. “Just go ahead and say it Charlie. I can practically hear the question you want to ask.” Her hands came to cradle her forehead as she leaned into them, elbows resting on her desk.

But he said nothing this time, despite her correct assumption. But work was not the place to discuss such things. He took hold the handle and quietly closed the door as he left on silent feet. There was still work to do.
……………………..

Lunch had come and gone.

Neither one of them engaged with anyone. Neither one of them ate much either, even though the cafeteria offered sustainable meals. Charlie burned the candle at both ends, focusing on his assignment and installing programs onto the laptop so he could work from home with the same efficiency. He figured that by day’s end he’d have made a substantial leap ahead. It had been productive day, albeit lonely.

Clock out had arrived, his laptop and cord already packed into the backpack. He intended on getting out of the office fast. His hand itched to clutch the foil once more and unleashed some pent up frustration. He ran a hand through his gelled hair, breaking up the strands and shook it loose. In the hallway he peered into Samara’s office, finding it empty. Odd, normally she was the last to leave. He took the opportunity and slipped past, only to find her standing at Lucy’s desk-there was no escaping the main hub without passing Lucy’s desk-handing off some paperwork to the receptionist.

“Lucy, Missus Young.” He greeted, walking by.

“G’night Charlie!” Lucy waved as she collected the papers and placed them in a folder before snatching a pen and marking the tab.

“Bye.” Sam mumbled half-heartedly, casting her eyes off to the side. He kept in pace, brushing by on his way to the elevator. Neither one saying anything further. She turned her head back to Lucy. “Just make sure these are sent off first thing in the morning.” She ordered, tapping her finger on the desk with a little tink-tink.

“First thing.” Lucy repeated, slapping a Post-It note on top. “So I’m guessing that coffee wasn’t enough?”

Sam sighed. “No Lucy…it’s not…” she left it at that as she then exited. It was a little heartbreaking for her to see unfortunate turn they had taken when everything seemed so positive on Friday. But all good things happen in time.
…………………………

At the gym, Charlie had been welcomed by the acquaintances he had made in his time there, everyone inquiring as to where he’d been. He held up his hand and showed them the terrible cut, eliciting more questions and concerns until Eva snapped that he was a big boy and could handle himself. Several other members threw her the stink-eye at her crass remark but eventually dispersed and began their lessons.

“You just have to be the center of attention, don’t you?” she snickered in a hushed tone as they were the only ones left at his mat.

“Look who’s talking.” He countered.

“Well, let’s see if that hand hasn’t already lost its touch.” She teased, already donning her mask.

“I’m not jumping into the fray with you.”

“Coward!’ she barked from behind the mask as she slapped her leg with the foil.

“Hardly.” He replied, steeling his nerve. “I’ll deal with you when you’ve calmed down.” He walked off the mat and over to the dummy set aside in the corner for solo practitioners and amateurs. It was a calculated blow to her ego, him choosing to spar against a rubber mannequin rather than her. Besides, he needed a little time to let his hand get back into the feel of the hilt and test his mobility.

At first, his hand felt stiff and awkward, the glove making his grip harder to control. He found himself flexing his fingers often, stopping to twist his wrist in a new manner so as not to tear the healing skin in his palm. Gradually, the muscle memory took over and he felt in control once more. He stepped away from the dummy and chose to spar with another member who had taken a break from their last match. Well aware of his injury, they didn’t strike as hard as they could have as a professional courtesy. All in all, it had been a decent match. He had managed to avoid Eva all through the club’s time, she growing increasingly aggressive with those who had decided to spar with her. She spared no one any grace, male or female. Everyone was just another soldier on the field to fight. While it was admirable, it was also becoming tiresome.

She had wiped the floor long ago against everyone, now her eyes were set on adding Charles Jones to that collection. He was proving to be elusive, a worthy adversary to conquer. But her patience was being tested. Knowing now that he was the personal assistant of her former sister-in-law had only raised her ire with him, as if she really had any reason to dislike that weak little Samara Young more. That mousey unattractive geek her brother had fallen for took everyone in the family by surprise, even more so when he announced that they were getting married, with or without their blessing.

But she knew her brother better than that. She knew it wasn’t meant to last. So it came to no shock at all that he couldn’t keep it in his pants, not like the next choice was any better. That painted up hot pink geisha was an affront to her senses, strutting around like she owned every square foot she stepped on with those hooker heels. Though it did surprise her that they had still stayed together after all this time. Guess the wench knew enough tricks in the bedroom…

She had stepped out the arena for a time, to cool her heels, little good it did. When she re-entered, everyone had dispersed saved for one, Charles. Well, maybe now was the time for their match. “Hey Chuck, are you gonna go back on your word and pack up without my promised match?”

He groaned within his throat, picking his mask back up from where he had set it. She wasn’t going to let up or let him get away. And he knew what he was in for when coming tonight. “Fine Eva. If it will prevent a tantrum.” Which he knew by saying so that it would only trigger her more. She was simply too easy to tease like that.

“Time to show me what you’re really made of Welshman.” She announced with a flick of her wrist, taking her stance. “Anything goes.”

He had barely secured his mask before she took the first lunge, to which he backpedaled and dodged by a hair. She wasn’t playing. Fine, he too could return the favor. She had him on defense, just trying to protect his chest while watching her for an opening.

“Damn it Chuck, you’re not even trying!” she shouted.

Oh but that was all part of the strategy. Get her worked up enough to make a mistake. But Eva must’ve realized that, for she pulled back and brought her leg out in a back kick that caught his thigh. Now that the gloves were off, he didn’t hesitate in putting more force behind the thrust of his foil and following it with a shove of his shoulder into hers. She backpedaled from the force but didn’t lose her footing, it was just enough for him to gain the ground he needed to strike again, which she met with a sharp clang. She swiftly brought a hand up and slid her mask off, using it as a shield on her left arm as she spun and swiped low.

“Bring your A game!” she screamed at him, jumping up with a kick that he dodged by an inch, and elbowed her in the back as she passed him. “Ack!”

As it stood, Eva was his opponent, not just a woman, and therefore an opponent could be struck. She wanted A game, then she was going to receive A game.

Their movements lightning quick; it was amazing to be able to dodge an attack and advance with one of their own, like a dance only with swords, they twirled around each other, neither making a retreat. Arms and legs being smacked, torsos poked and thrust into, feet jumping and leaping with kicks. It was a fight for dominance, for pride, and a fight Charlie did not intend to lose-even with a wounded hand.

Eva’s mask came at his own with a cheap shot, causing him to momentarily turn his head away, as she went in for a hard thrust, but he ducked low and swept her feet out from under her, landing her flat on her back. He then stabbed downward, right by her ear, causing her to flinch in belief that he was actually aiming to kill. He knelt over her, one knee upright, the other at her side, just under her elbow as she lay prone. “Do you yield?” he demanded, breathing hard and hair dripping with sweat.

She reached up and grabbed his mask off with one hand, the other grabbing his collar, pulling him down to meet her hungry lips, claiming them for her own like her consolation prize. It effectively froze him, unexpected as it was, his upright knee sliding down to be level with the other as he leaned in, his hand dropping the weapon and the other grasping at her throat, cradling her jawline.

Her teeth nipped his bottom lip, her fingernails digging in through his hair, her body hot and begging. Once she let go of his lip he smiled devilishly down at her. “Is that how you intend to best me?” he asked, snatching a handful of her hair as his other hand clamped down the one that reached for the foil. “You made an admirable stand, but doing this would cheapen the victory.”

With fluidity of his lithe form he stood up, foil in one hand, mask in the other. He simply walked away towards his backpack and took it to his locker, leaving her to own device. She pushed herself off the mat with indignation and angrily grabbed her own equipment, storming off to the other side where her locker was. No more words were spoken between them as he gathered his things and departed to catch his bus.

It was just another thing to pretend that didn’t happen today.
……………………..

Chapter Text

Just when Sam thought today couldn’t surprise her any more than it already had, she found Dee waiting at the entrance of her apartment complex when she pulled up. And though it had been a minute since they had last seen each other, Dee’s crossed arms and pensive visage did not bode well.

Dee played it cool, for all of five seconds before she and her former roommate fell into a tight hug, nearly squeezing the life from her before remembering to lighten up. They stepped into the lobby and took the elevator up to the top floor-just a few seconds of flight-and then were right to her door.

“Ok, I got the rundown from Link-from his perspective that is-on what happened this weekend, but girl, you have got some ‘splainin’ to do.” Dee said the moment she crossed the threshold and hung her coat by the door.

“I figured as much.” Sam sighed with a laugh. “Can I at least change into something comfortable first?”

“Sure thing, I even brought over my newest blend-that you haven’t tried-and will be busy fixing that up in the meantime.” Dee produced a bag from her purse, waved it merrily with a wink. A talk with Delilah wouldn’t be complete without a hot mug in your hands.

Sam trudged up her stairs, undoing Charlie’s tie and unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out from its tucked placement and flinging it onto her bed once she reached her room. She stripped out of everything and undid her hair, splashed water on her face and threw on an oversized shirt and sweats. Good old Sam style. When she came back down, Dee already had two mugs prepared and was leaning against her kitchen island.

Handed a mug of the new brew, Sam sniffed the dark liquid, noting fruity hints with a robust dark roast. She timidly sipped it black, pleased that it wasn’t as bitter as she expected. It still needed a splash of milk and a sugar, but it was still delightful. That telltale moan of delicious content escaped her, taking her back to those good old college days. “Wow Dee….I think this is your best one yet.”

“Better be, I’ve spent a year on this recipe alone. But ‘nuf bout that, I came here for tea.”

“Tea?” Sam was puzzled.

“The 411, the down-low, the story…you know! Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of ‘spilling the tea’?” Dee laughed.

Sam shook her head, with an embarrassed smile and shrug of her shoulders. “’fraid not. But thanks for the update from the latest in Urban Dictionary.”

She felt Dee’s eyes stare right into her skull. “Ok, ok. What do you want first? What happened this weekend or how all of this started? Because either way, you’re going to ask about that too.”

“Might as well start at the beginning, otherwise we’ll be jumping all over the place and I need my facts in line.”

“Alright.” She nodded, and took a sip. “It started with an ordinary interview…”

Dee drank her coffee and the details of Sam’s tale, from the coffee spill incident, to them falling over each other in her car, the discovery of the bruises on his chest, finding out about his cut, the way he touched her face, having to take him to the clinic-oh this was exciting! At first, Sam stayed impassive with merely just stating each encounter like she would with prospects of a business deal, but gradually, Dee noticed more minute details slip in, the way Sam’s eyes took on a gleam, and how her voice softened when she said his name.

Having had him as a customer in her shop, all she could say was that he behaved very politely and always cleaned up after himself. He was quiet, stayed to himself, and even held open doors for others. How she wished more of her customers were like that!

She hadn’t even reached the part about the weekend and already Dee was already convinced. If Sam couldn’t see it for herself, she would just have to be told. But for the time, the story wasn’t over, and she was pretty sure the juiciest part was just on its way.

Sam relayed what happened at the bar, how it went from 0 to 100 in two seconds flat, how her self-defense move started a damn bar fight between some creeps and her co-workers. Dee’s jaw hit the floor, taking a seat on the bar stool now. As other customers helped break up the fight and keep the two sides apart until the police arrived her nose had bled moderately, but seeing any amount of blood from their boss had turned all her co-workers into protective big brothers.

Then police and paramedics arrived, and the showdown between her and Link ensued.

“You know he meant well.” Dee said to his defense.

“It was just how he came off about it, my god; it was like being chastised by my brother all over again. At that moment, he wasn’t Link my friend; he was Link pretending to be doctor. Not what I wanted or needed right then.”

“How’s your nose now? I honestly wouldn’t have known you got hit.”

“It’s good.” She gingerly touched it. “I couldn’t even do that the other day without my eyes watering.”

Dee shook her head. “Sensei Angela would be so proud.” She chortled. “Ok, so Link leaves, then what happens?” She saw that look Sam tried to hide as she scratched her head.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t remember everything. I angry drank until I wasn’t angry anymore….and that took a few shots… But Charlie got me home and even stayed the night.”

Had Dee not already been informed by Link of that, she would’ve spat her drink out in shock. She still was flabbergasted by that particular turn of events, for she’d never seen Link become aggressive. Sure, he’d broken up fights and presented a scary front to chase off troublesome guys, but actually going in with the first punch? That was not his style.

“So he stayed the night…?” she leaned in with a wink.

Sam adverted her eyes and tapped her mug with her fingernails. “Yeah…I… It’s hazy. I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?! Well did you ask him?”

“Course I did; and he said a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell….and that was when we were in my closet, before he kissed the bruise on my back, and after that-”

“Whoa, hold up.” Dee said, holding her hand out to stop her. “Why were you two in your closet?

Sam brought her hand up to her forehead. “I got my damn arm stuck in a long sleeve shirt. I couldn’t get it out…and he didn’t want to see me undressed so he had his eyes closed….God, the whole thing was just-”

Dee burst out laughing. “Oh my gawd Samara Young, you are ridiculous! This is….” She broke into more laughter. “…this is just like one of those animes you’d always watch…”

Sam scrunched her lips and let Dee laugh herself out, slapping her knee and even letting out a little snort when she breathed in too deeply. “Well I’m glad you think it’s funny. I was thoroughly embarrassed.”

“This is far more exciting than any relationship I’ve had recently!”

“We’re NOT in a relationship.”

“Riiiight.” Dee sarcastically drawled. “Girl, what are you doing if you aren’t dating him?”

Sam groaned in her throat. “I don’t know.” Her hands came up to her face as she slunk against the bar. “I’m feeling way too many things, and I’m sure they’re not all good. He’s my assistant after all.”

“Well how else was he supposed to come into your life?”

Sam brought her head up. “What?”

Dee leaned over, motherly and comforting and spoke in a clear but soft tone. “You shut yourself away when things ended with Ben. All you’ve done is focus on work. No socializing, no dating, no mingling-even with us…and we got that. You needed time. But it’s been a handful of years, and nothing has changed in your routine. Everyone else went their own way, and are doing their own thing. Except you Sam. You’re still stuck in that moment, not letting anyone in, not giving yourself a chance at happiness.”

“But it was my fault-” Sam began.

“Did you put him in bed with Monica? No, he did that. Now, did you focus too much on Ruminate to the point where he felt you didn’t care about him? Ok, yeah, we all make mistakes. But we’re supposed to learn from them too, not punish ourselves for the rest of our life.” Her hand rubbed gently on Sam’s shoulder. “And since you haven’t given Cupid a chance, he found a way, when you hired this guy. And it seems that he arrived just in time, because you’ve been dealing with more troubles and drama from Ben-even if it wasn’t intentional.”

She rolled her head to the side, staring off at a point on her wall. “Benjamin has takotsubo cardiomyopathy, and he nearly died, right in front of me…Charles was there, giving him CPR…” Tears welled in her eyes. “He played Ruminate, and became overwhelmed when he reached the ending, and saw that I had dedicated the game to him.”

“Oh Sam…” Dee cooed, gripping her shoulder for support.

Sam sucked in a breath, along with the tear that streamed down her cheek. “I had to call Eva and deal with her. Turns out she’s the one who landed those bruises on Charles, and then Link came up to see me….and that was just….God it was the worst…” She wiped her face, gone pink from crying. “I couldn’t even let him near me…I couldn’t even hug him.”

“Give it time Sam; bruises heal.”

She raised her head and sat up, then pulled her shirt up over her head, revealing her back to Dee. From the gasp she heard, she knew it was a sight. She felt Dee’s hands come up and gently touch the tender spot, it still raw but not as painful given the few days that had past.

“Oh my god Sam, he could’ve killed you…” Dee whispered. “That has got to be the single most dangerous thing you’ve ever done to yourself. No wonder he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Jesus Sam, I’d never seen him so shaken. When he said he accidently hit you….I just…never expected…”

“Yeah well as Charles likes to remind me, that punch was meant for him, not me.”

“And he’s right!” Dee cried out. Sam shifted the shirt back down. “I didn’t peg you for losing your sanity over a guy, but this clearly proves it.”

After adjusting the shirt she turned around. “There’s still more.”

“I’m going to brew up another pot.”
……………….

After the fresh pot was brewed, and the cabinet ransacked for something to nibble on, they took to the living room, each taking a cushion of the love seat. The laptop tray had pulled over for them to set their refreshments on, the laptop being removed and set off to the ottoman of her computer chair. Dee waited with practiced patience, as she had been known for, as she had done so many times with not just Sam, but others who were facing their own struggles of college life.

She had considered even taking psychology, just because of the client list she accumulated in but a few semesters. Word got around, if you needed someone to talk to-who wasn’t an “adult” then hit up Delilah and Sam’s dorm for a hot mug and treats, and vent your woes.

She could see Sam trying to muster the words, to make the ramped thoughts cohesive and sensible, so that she could follow the white rabbit to Wonderland and understand the topsy-turvy swirl of emotions within her friend. All she had to do was sit and sip and the words would come.

“He left me…at the hospital.” Was not the opening she was expecting.

“I called him, demanding to know why he’d think that he could just safely walk back to his place, how he could leave without a word…why he thought I didn’t need him.”

“He figured you’d been through enough, probably thought he was doing you a favor.”

“It was hard to see it that way, after saying goodbye to Link and nearly losing Ben. I couldn’t let one more person go that night.”

“What did you say to him?” the barista asked, sipping her brew.

“To stay with me. To be a friend, nothing more.” Sam had her knees up to her chest, arm wrapped around her shins. “I didn’t want him to explain what he knew or how he knew anything, all I wanted was for someone to keep me from falling apart.”

“So you came back here?”

“No, we went to his place. Picked up a pizza first.” She then explained how right after she had stepped inside, Monica had come flying out the neighboring door and demanding information from Charlie, who had smartly closed the door and prevented the two women from interacting. He had placated her, sent her off before reemerging into his home and joining her for dinner on his couch. She happily described the adorable Corgi/Terrier he had, named Bowser, and how he had been taken with her.

“Even his dog likes you? That’s a good sign.”

Sam ignored that remark, still continuing with the course of events. That he pulled out a massive keyboard and began to play classical piano compositions which had lulled her to sleep.

“He plays piano?” Dee sighed. “If only I could find a woman like that.”

Sam wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she thought she heard him sing to her too, though what he sang was anyone’s guess. All she knew was that she had finally found the comfort she sought, her weary soul resting with peace. It had been blissful. When he had awakened her, cradling her face, she felt her heart melt, almost for a second believing it was Benjamin. She nearly said the name, before the blond hair had come into focus, the realization of who she was with dawning on her in all too real terror.

She had jumped to her feet and tried to cover her near slip-up with proclaiming she was fit to drive, wanting to put as many miles between them as she could. There was no having it, he wouldn’t return her glasses, and he wouldn’t accept any excuses. In an instant, his living room had become a guest room for her use. There was no way she could refuse now.

“Could you imagine how it would’ve hurt him had I actually called him Benjamin?” her voiced rasped as she clutched her mug like a talisman.

“I think given the circumstances, he would’ve understood. It’s not like you said it to him while sleeping in the same bed, now is it?” Dee countered.

There was that.

She continued at Dee’s urging, seeing as that she’d been here a while. Sam skipped over the rest of the details from the evening, though her hand crossed over her chest and rested on the shoulder he had touched. The feel of his hand against her skin, so blazingly hot, it was if it was still there.

“He kissed me, in the morning…while I was making breakfast.”

Dee clapped. “My boy!” she hollered. “Finally one of you two made a move!”

“And then he ran back to his room and hid from me.”

“He did what now?” she froze in mid-celebration.

Her brows tented, thumbnail picked at between her teeth, she chose her next words carefully. “Dee….I think he’s a virgin. He’s always so nervous, so cautious; always trying to keep a distance… He even said he hasn’t been with anyone the entire time he’s lived here….and he thought he was dreaming, then when he realized he wasn’t…I’ve never seen him so terrified.”

“And so what if he is? He’s been nothing but gentlemanly from everything you’ve told me. And he certainly likes you; I hope you can see that.”

Sam spun around to her friend. “Don’t you see Dee, that’s just it, I told him to pretend it never happened and we took separate modes of transportation just to put some distance between us. There’s no good that come of this…I’ll just destroy him.”

“That’s a little extreme, don’tcha think?”

“I cannot corrupt him.” Sam stated firmly. “I’m too broken to be his first. And even if I’m not, I still have all this baggage-”

“That he’s well aware of! For crying out loud, your ex is his neighbor! He’s pretty damn smart to figure it out on his own since you sure as hell didn’t tell him. And he’s stood up for you, he’s been there when you’ve needed a friend-and I’m sorry to say this, but you haven’t exactly been making it easy for any of us to be there for you-yet he has. And what has he asked of you?”

Sam stopped, words turned to ash as she suddenly found herself having no answer.

“Well now, “Dee replied. “That’s a good answer.”

“But I didn’t give one.”

“Exactly.” She winked with a finger gun. “Look hon, I will root for you ‘til the cows come home, but you’ve got to make a move for anything to happen. Your parents made it work, you can too.”

“Dad doesn’t like him. Neither does Jay.”

“So what? Do you need their approval to find love?”

Love? “Whoa Dee, that’s a four letter word.”

“No kidding sweetheart. L-O-V-E. And you’ve been denying yourself not just romantic love, but friendship love.” Dee took a look at the sky, seeing as it had darkened in her time here. “I gotta be heading out. But man, I am sure glad I stayed for this. To think that I thought I had been stressing…ya got me beat on that girl.”

“It’s gonna be a little difficult for me to come to the Daily Grind at the moment.” Sam murmured.

“Suck it up.” Dee ordered with maternal force, snapping Sam from her pout. “That look may win your daddy over every time, but not me hon. You’re gonna put on your big girl britches and saunter that skinny ass of yours back into my shop like the friend and loyal customer you are. Because if your assistant can, then so can you.”

A smile crept up on her face as she looked up from the couch. “You win Dee. You’re right. It’s better to just rip the Band-Aid off.” Sam took to her feet. “You sure you can’t stay for dinner?”

“I’ll have to take a rain check because I’ve already extended my stay. You hit me up with the day and time and it’s a date. Hell, we could even make it a double date.”

“Oh not you too!” Sam groaned. “You and Ruth both conspiring now?”

Dee flashed a grin. “We sistas ought to, if it’ll help your skinny ass.”

They parted with a hug, Dee being careful now that she was aware of the bruise on her friend. She knew in her heart of hearts, that what partook that day was just a terrible accident. Link would never actually hit her on purpose. And whatever craziness possessed Sam to jump in the middle between two men about to throw down would surely possess her again if she didn’t make up her mind about how she truly felt.

While she may not have seen Sam and Charlie together, she could clearly see there was chemistry, sparks, a connection that neither could deny. Though sparks would only last so long before fading out, and heads turning elsewhere. She just hoped the two of them would recognize what they had before letting it fizzle out into a regret they never took a chance on.
………………………

With Indigineer up on her laptop, Sam checked the message inbox to find a new unread correspondence from RedDragon. The drama of the weekend and thereafter had nearly made her forget what was last said between the two of them. She reread a few older messages just to refresh herself before opening the new one.

RedDragon: I apologize but due to unforeseen circumstances I was unable to play Ruminate this past weekend. I do hope to complete it by this one.

She thought it over, and began typing away.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: that’s quite alright because I had such a crazy wknd that I wouldn’t have been able to hold you to your word.

To pass the time, she checked more reviews, still finding the rating low, but with a bit more positive feedback in the comment section. It looked like RedDragon had threatened the egos of several gamers who called him out, more than likely sparking their own comment thread. There were a few that had commented that he was right and had quoted his initial statement into their own review. It was a tiny ray of light.

A blip sounded, indicating that she was receiving a new message. She clicked the notification box and found it was from her friend.

RedDragon: I hope that it wasn’t too crazy. How bad could it have been?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: falling short of going to jail?

RedDragon: wow, you really take it to the extreme

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: not intentionally

RedDragon: how are you feeling?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: like my world is falling apart actually. But I won’t bore you with my problems. Other things happened that didn’t have to do with my drinking with the co-workers

RedDragon: you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. Maybe tonight, I could share something

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: by all means

RedDragon: I think I crossed the line with the girl I like.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: oh, I’m sorry

RedDragon: I don’t think she’ll want to speak with me again, and it will be strained between us

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: let me guess, you went in for a kiss and got friendzoned?

RedDragon: . . . yes

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: did she say she didn’t ever want to see you again? Did she go to her family and have them tell you to stay away?

RedDragon: not yet

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I’m not really the best at relationships; I don’t know what I’d do about that.

RedDragon: what if it was someone you liked who did it?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: then I would’ve kissed him back.

She stopped typing and sat back. Strange, how they were both having a similar problem. It felt weird, but then again, there were 8 billion people on the planet and she wasn’t the only one currently having an existential crisis.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: then again, I am constantly making the same mistake over with my life…

RedDragon: it’s said that you have to kiss a lot of frogs in order to find the prince

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: that’s funny. I suppose also true. I guessed I’ve kissed my fair share of frogs. And toads.

RedDragon: even a snake?

She laughed.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: yes, even a snake.

RedDragon: explains why you’ve been so cautious with yourself. Only natural.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: until recently…now I feel like I’m losing my touch.

RedDragon: your game receiving this devastatingly low rating, I can imagine it’s been trickling into your everyday life. And I’m part of the minority that sees the potential with this.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I do love hearing you talk about my game. It’s become one of the things I’ve been looking forward to among all my chaos

RedDragon: I fear we won’t have anything to speak about once I complete it.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: we could continue talking on another social media source; I might then finally get to learn who the man behind the dragon is

RedDragon: Oh? You want to know who I am? Would you ever be interested in meeting?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: ……uh….you say that so casually, like it’s just that easy.

RedDragon: it would be. I live in LA as well. I am familiar with Young Technologies; our companies have done business together.

\

She nearly jumped from her chair. Heart in her throat, blood turned to ice, she pressed a hand to her chest and read over the words again, and a third time. She suddenly felt claustrophobic, the glass walls closing in on her. This was a setup from another company to spy on her! To gauge information-dirt-on her to take her down and ruin her chances of the CEO position. She saw another message from him.

RedDragon: please don’t think I’ve sought you out due to your company. I did not know the future CEO of Young Technologies had made a game and shared it here.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: How can I believe that? Anything you’ve said? You could be trying to gather information to blackmail me with

RedDragon: I’d never Miss Young. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed talking with you. But I know we can’t carry on like this for long. Eventually, you’ll stop coming here to check for messages.

With a hand over her mouth, she shook her head in denial as he if he could actually see her. Just when she felt like she could trust someone…

RedDragon: I was afraid of this. You don’t trust me now.

Am I being paranoid? Or is this really just someone else in LA that played Ruminate and put two and two together?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I don’t know what to think. But you’re right, I don’t trust many people.

RedDragon: when I finish, I’d like to meet you, even for just that one time. And you are under no obligation to speak to me again. We can part ways if you feel uncomfortable. I may not have my job much longer, and then I may not be in the city too long afterwards.

Several moments passed, whether they were seconds or minutes, Sam couldn’t say. But it was something to consider. And not lightly.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: give me time to think on it

RedDragon: I understand. I think this where we should part for the night.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: yeah.

It wasn’t a graceful answer, it wasn’t a sweet farewell. Tonight it was just one word that encompassed a plethora of meanings and tones, left dangling like rotting fruit on a branch to sit sourly in both their stomachs as she immediately closed the tab and pulled the laptop monitor down.

She pushed herself up from her computer chair and marched into her kitchen. Tonight, hell the whole day-had been an emotional rollercoaster. The conversation with RedDragon had taken the cake. She pulled out a cut crystal tumbler and squatted low to the bottom drawer, revealing her meager stash of alcohol. It had taken her some time to get comfortable with even basic drinks, from the red solo cup parties held in the dorms to the formals she attended as her father’s plus one which required some wining and dining with clients.

Eventually, she had acquired her tastes. Tonight would be a Rum Night.

With her glass filled, she slowly took to her stairs; hand on the rail as every step seemed to be so much work. So far to reach. So much energy just to climb. Her bed beckoned. And she gladly answered that call.

Another lonely night in big empty bed, in a big empty room, in a big empty penthouse.

………………….

Chapter Text

“Must we go through with this?” he sighed, forcing his hands on his hips.

“I told you, we would, every day.” She retorted, arms crossed. “Now I’ve let it slide because of….certain events…but now today we get back on track.”

“Well I don’t have anything to say.” Came a deflated, irritated response.

“Oh? Have we already admitted defeat?” she scoffed. “And here I thought you were always up for a challenge…”

His eyes darted at her with icy ping, but for once, they had no effect. She was not deterred. Her dark chocolate doe eyes were daring him, goading him, pricking his ego. He set his jaw and tapped his fingers for a second. “Fine, Missus Young, if you must have your answer, I love to challenge myself. Maybe too far, but at least I can’t say I didn’t try.”

She smiled like she had won. Technically, she had. “Good Charlie, very good. I hope that the GUI hasn’t been proving too challenging for you?” she teased, putting emphasis on ‘challenging’, just to see that little twitch in his jaw.

“It hasn’t.” he answered flatly.

“Then you may go now and get started on it.” She dismissed him as she turned around and went back to her seat. She wasn’t sure what had lit a fire under his ass this morning, but she wasn’t going to sit back and let him take it out on her.

He left without another word or second glance, leaving her door open but shutting his own when he made it to his private abode. Something was bothering him but she wasn’t going to get wrapped up in it, not so early in the morning. She had even taken the time to clean and press his shirt and wanted to return it and the tie, but with how he had stormed in and addressed her in a clipped tone, she had forgone the kind gesture.

‘Maybe it’s just his way of dealing with me telling him to pretend we never kissed? He feels like a fool and is angry with himself; and with me for rejecting him…’

Charlie flipped open the laptop and forced himself to focus on the project at hand, rather than the vortex of unrest in his mind, the memories of his morning with Samara and his evening with Eva dueling each other. Though he had far more encounters with Samara that he treasured and often reminisced on, it felt wrong to think of Eva and the passions she had stirred within him last night.

Had he known that she was using their duel as a dangerous courtship, he’d have walked away. It had not dawned on him that anyone in the fencing club would use their sport for way to flirt and try to hook up, but looking back he realized he’d been completely naïve to all the salacious bantering from nearly everyone of age there.

Yes, the talk between duelists was just as much of a part as the actual swordplay, sometimes being the deciding factor to a victory, and he’d engaged in his fair share of insult tossing and clever remarks. How had he been so blind? The more he pushed away the more she pulled him in for another go. It was never fulfilling enough for her, even when the round had been won, her need ran deep. And how awful it had been to be enticed-even for a moment.

She wouldn’t have stopped at a mere kiss on the arena floor. She would’ve taken it as far as she could go, taken him rather than let him give himself to her. And she would’ve claimed THAT as her victory. He’d never be able to look Samara in the eye afterwards. He’d never be able to look at Benjamin either.

Then like an idiot he had to go and suggest to Samara that they meet once he completed her game. He was pretty sure she considered unplugging her laptop and hurling it off the penthouse roof. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Just throwing it out there so casually knowing she had just barely let her wall down. ‘Patience’ he had been warned, but noooo, he had to foolishly rush in.

“Fuck!” he yelled out in frustration, running his hands through his ungelled hair and grabbing fistfuls. Today was not going to be his day.

……………………

By lunch, Sam was certain she had not seen nor heard Charlie’s door open all morning. And though she had promised herself that she wasn’t going to bother him, she at least had to check on him. She plucked up her briefcase-not wanting to be seen returning his shirt back to him and raising any suspicions-and stepped over across the narrow hallway and knocked on his door.

There was no response. Was he asleep?

She pushed it open, finding him not at his desk, but at the round table set in the middle of the elongated room, his back to the door. About to say something, she noticed his head moving with an unknown rhythm, his hands acting out pianist movements. He was listening to music.

She could just easily place the shirt and tie on his desk and leave. That was what she SHOULD do, but not what she wanted to do. In fact, she closed the door behind her and stepped forward on quiet feet until she gently touched his shoulder. He shot up from his seat, making it tumble backwards, turning on her in a flash, gripping her wrist in reflex.

Startled she had expected, but not this.

With his other hand he yanked the earbuds from his ears, and then realized he still held her and slowly pulled his fingers off her tiny arm. “I’m sorry, you caught me off guard.”

Her heart pounded wildly, all she did was nod in return as she calmed herself.

“How long were you here?” he asked in a breathy whisper.

“Long enough. You seemed really into your song, I was hoping to catch you when it ended.”

His chest thundered with rapid heartbeats, wild with the fright she had given him, and now wild because she was here and so near. He turned and picked up his fallen chair to give himself a moment to collect himself. When he returned to his stance, she had reached for one of his dangling earbuds and lifted it off his shirt, leaning in to hear as she brought it to her ear.

“What is this?”

For a moment his mind was blank. She closed her eyes and swayed her head just a bit, following the melody. He picked up the other and stuck that in his ear, remembering immediately. “Debussy.” He answered.

“I think…I think I’ve heard this one before.” She recalled a vague memory of it swimming in her head as she clutched a pillow, nodding off to sleep as he sat on the floor with a keyboard at his fingertips. How soothing it had been, the music itself becoming a warm blanket that draped over her shoulders and made her feel safe.

They stood in their close proximity, bound by the electric cords set into an eardrum, bonded by the beautiful piece that played. With slow grace, he brought his hand up to take the briefcase from her and laid it on his table. She offered no resistance. He doubted she’d resist anything at this moment, and that was what prompted him to effectively yank the earbud and catch her attention.

Startled at the abrupt jolt, she furrowed her brows as he pressed his music player to pause and then addressed her. “You’re interrupting my break, was there something you needed Missus Young?”

Cheeks flaming from an insult she couldn’t quite name, she stepped back from him and narrowed her eyes. “Nothing I needed.” She snapped, grabbing her briefcase and flipping back the flap. “But just wanted to return.” She reached inside and pulled the shirt and tie and carelessly slapped them on the table.

“I even washed them, you’re welcome.” She said as she gripped the handle and removed it from the table, turning away before he could get the chance to say anything, but he did grab hold of her arm to stop her.

“I have something for you.”

“I swear to god, you try to kiss me again…” she warned.

He let her go and pulled up his backpack from the seat that was to his left and unzipped the top, reached in and produced her black cardigan she had left behind. “It’s only fair to trade.” He smiled, handing it to her. Suddenly the fight in her fled, replaced with gratitude.

“Oh, so that’s what happened.” A light chuckle escaped with nervous energy as she held her hands out for the article of clothing. “I got too distracted to even remember.”

“Bowser thought it was for him.” He confessed. “I had to bribe him with extra kibble just to get it back. So there goes his diet.”

She held it to her chest, smiling a little despite there still being that blasted elephant in the room that neither of them were addressing. “Don’t let up on him now.”

“Now that I have nothing of yours to fight for, I won’t be.”

Her breath hitched; somehow those words were talking about more than a sweater. And given how his eyes had taken that hard serious look, she was certain of it. She muttered a quick excuse and made good of her exit afterwards, knowing that the office was not the place to be mentioning anything of the sort. She tossed the cardigan and the briefcase towards one of her chairs, not caring that they didn’t stick their landing, and headed to the cafeteria to salvage what time she had left to grab a quick bite.

Lucy noticed how late Sam came in for lunch, how she took a seat by herself, how quickly she ate and then left without so much as a peep. Charlie wasn’t anywhere to be seen either. Alright, so they were at odds with each other right now…surely by the end of the day they’d be amicable once more?

But she’d been wrong. By clock out, they had not so much as even stepped foot into the same room at the same time, as if they were purposely avoiding each other. Not until everyone was leaving, and even then they did not make eye contact. Nothing out of the ordinary-if you had not been aware of their previous behavior. Lucy was not one to so easily give up on things clearly meant to be, and even though today was a setback, there was always tomorrow.

Sam avoided the elevator after it filled with too many bodies for comfort. Wednesday aka Hump Day had people rushing out of the building just as they would if it was Friday for some reason, and she didn’t want another claustrophobic episode. Especially around co-workers. When the lift returned to her floor, only one occupant was inside; Ms. Rosewood.

“Evening Miss Rosewood.” Sam greeted as she stepped aboard.

“Miss Young.” The redhead replied curtly. She sighed and pulled out her compact mirror, checking something in her eye. “Question: who’s that handsome English fella you had deliver those request forms last week?”

“Oh, that’s my assistant.” Sam answered, casting a suspicious glance at the imposing woman. “And he’s actually Welsh.” She added. ‘Like you would know the difference.’ She thought with a snark.

“Is he single?” she inquired, still batting her lash and fidgeting with whatever flaw she perceived with it.

“I wouldn’t know.” Sam immediately replied with denial. “I don’t get tangled up with my co-workers personal lives.”

Rosewood snapped her compact shut. “Shame, because a hot bloodied male like that would be your absolute slave if you just so much as let him think he has a chance.” She winked at the younger woman and stepped off the elevator. “That is, if I don’t snatch him up first.”

Sam slapped the door hold so it wouldn’t close and quickly escaped the metal box but took her time walking to her car. She had to pretend that Rosewood hadn’t gotten under her skin, that her threat hadn’t bothered her in the slightest, that she suddenly felt inadequate all over again like when Benjamin left her for Monica.

Who’s to say that Charlie wouldn’t be swayed by the redhead’s charms?

Maybe that’s why he requested to not be sent back up to the third floor, because the entire place was a walking honey trap? But that seemed a little far-fetched. Charlie clearly liked women, at least her-so it’s not like he’d never want to go back and be ogled by dozens of beautiful women. What man wouldn’t love the attention to his ego? Especially a young man who struggled with social anxiety…wouldn’t that give him a confidence boost?

Either way, who was she kidding? Whatever she and Charlie had was just a by-product of their proximity, the moments of vulnerability that left them-mainly her-needing someone by her side. Just a few more weeks of them not getting so absorbed into each other’s bubble and it would be fine, normal and professional.
Right?
…………………

Thursday morning arrived with just about the same amount of attitude and frustration from the two of them. She prompted for a self-love exercise and was met with resistance. He argued over what the point of the whole thing was if she was the only person he told these things to, which weighed heavily between them until she suggested he doing them in the cubicle hub for everyone to hear.
It effectively shut him up.

He spouted off a hastily thought up reason and left her office to continue his duties. It wasn’t just the GUI he had to focus on, but memorizing their clientele list and what programs they were currently testing and promoting-just as she had requested he do when she gave him the laptop. The Skylights PC was firing on all cylinders, running faster and smoother than his own at home, so much in fact that he also uploaded Indigineer upon it and brought up his current game information to play at a later time. Maybe even play it on his break-granted he didn’t get any more intrusions.

Sam thought back on her anxiety riddled days when she first stepped through those big glass doors. Everyone had expectations of her. They believed that if Samuel Young’s daughter was going to be working in her father’s company, then she must’ve been just as driven and charismatic and a force to be reckoned with-at least that how he described her.

She was tiny, hunched into an over-sized sweater, spoke softly and didn’t make waves. The first thing out of everyone’s mouth she met had been “You’re not what I expected…” And she knew that. Still didn’t lessen how much it hurt. But she had friends, friends who helped her present herself and find her inner strengths and turn them into her arsenal.

Monica had taught her all about make-up and fashion.

Angela had taught her self-defense.

Vikki taught her breathing exercises to calm herself.

Benjamin taught her that she was beautiful, no matter what anyone said.

Link taught her that her ability to care for others drew them to trust her.

Over time, she stood straighter and taller, walked with confidence and pride. She had taken to learning how to not only do her job but of those around her. Inserting herself into think tanks, group projects, taking on duties to help someone falling behind their deadline. She had gained more knowledge by doing that than if she had been hired in that department in the first place. It was in no time that her first promotion was earned.

It seemed like she had it all. She was nearing graduation, had a wonderful husband who her father was finally approving of, her game was coming along nicely even though she was killing herself to finish it, and all her co-workers respected her for the work she did, not just for whose daughter she was.

How naïve she had been with herself.

All the hours she had slaved at home, the late nights she would pull at work, all for the sake of Ruminate, she thought she knew what she was doing. Just a little sacrifice of time would pay off in the future. At first Ben was understanding; nurturing and cheering her on. She hadn’t noticed his upset eyes, his sighs of frustration, the dinner plates that were no longer saved for her as he took to just ordering takeout and left to hang out with friends. Not at first. Not until it was too late. How could she not see it? Course she couldn’t. She didn’t know better. Monica had been right about that.

But she was still the one that took him away from her.

How was she supposed to forgive that? How was she supposed to not be still bothered every time she looked back on fond memories and not have them twist into the plot of an Agatha Christie novel? Just how far back did the betrayal go? Had every laugh, every look between them been hiding their attraction? If only they met each other first and got together, then they all could’ve remained the best of friends. None of it would’ve happened.

Benjamin said he didn’t want forgiveness. Monica said she didn’t want to be enemies. So just what did they want? They sure knew that they had both wronged her and were now in her debt. But what to ask of the two people who had betrayed you? What could they possibly give her? What could ever make it even, let alone right? They couldn’t turn back time and replace her years.

The melancholy was overwhelming. Snapped back into the present, she had lost herself in the boiling cauldron of witch’s brew-turning once pleasant memories sour, twisting joy into bitterness. Ice encased her heart once again, a tear rolling down from one eye. She couldn’t let anyone get to her like that again, despite the temptation.

She had spent her day in quiet reprieve, choosing to take her lunch in her office-which she barely ate. At the need, she’d plaster a false smile and greet whoever was there and talk business, but the moment she was alone, the mask fell off. When Charlie came in to hand her some paperwork, she’d barely managed to maintain the façade and be indifferent to his presence. If he had noticed, he didn’t say anything back.

When he left, she felt herself crumble. It was going to be another awfully lonely night, nothing new, and yet more terrifying to face since she had experienced such contentment having him by her side. Drunk or not, he had been a comfort. Spending that night on his couch had been just as much of a comfort, his music and his little dog both soup for her soul.

It would be selfish of her to ask for that again. Just look what it had brought them to. Now they couldn’t even look at each other. It’ll come to pass…eventually.

………………..

Friday the energy in the office was buzzing. Everyone was already counting the hours until punch-out so they could get their jump on the weekend. Some of the guys were discussing about going to a different bar this time, and the other half wanted to go bowling. Even though beer was served at the bowling alley, some of the guys wanted to be able to have a shot or two of the hard stuff. The debate was on.

“Hey Charlie!” Umed called as soon as the blond stepped into the main hub. “Bar or bowling?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“We’re taking a vote on what we’re doing after work tonight.” Umed clarified, sticking his thumb out at Freddie and Kwan-Sun. “These yahoos want to go bowling. Jacob and Alex want to pick a different bar. I say we shouldn’t have to go to another one. So, what’s your vote?”

Charlie shifted his backpack and glanced at their faces. “I don’t really feel up to a night out. I doubt I’d be any good at bowling anyway.”

“Aww come on my dude, it’s nice having another guy my age around here so I don’t feel like the kid of the group.” Jacob said, hoping he’d be able to convince him.

“Sorry mates, I’ve fallen behind on some things and could use the weekend to catch up.” Was his reply as he turned into the hall and dropped his bag off at his office before making the turn into the General Managers’ office. Samara was standing at her desk, dressed in a navy blue pencil skirt and jacket. Her hair was down and her glasses on, papers in hand that she was currently looking over as he stepped inside.

“So what are you behind on?” she asked immediately, knocking the expectation of his self-love question out of his sails.

He stopped short, the answer he had prepared for suddenly causing a blockage to his thoughts. She looked at him, eyebrow arched. “As far as I can tell, you’re right where you should be, if not just a little ahead of where I expected on the GUI.”

Figuring now was as good as any time to come clean. “Ruminate.” He answered.

“Ahhh.” She replied, completely nonplussed. “So when were you going to tell me you knew about it?”

“I wanted to when you were at my flat.” He stated with detached emotion. “I would’ve told you anything you asked of me, and instead you asked for music.”

She set the paper down. “How long have you known?”

He inhaled and let the breath out slowly. “I hadn’t expected to come walking up to my execution this morning, if I did, I would picked a finer suit.”

“Smartass.”

“I’m still willing to discuss it, but perhaps after work?” He suggested, using a lighter, friendlier tone.

She crossed her arms. “Are you asking me out?” her voice incredulous.

“Depends on what you consider a date. But I know I have things to explain, and the questions you’ll have for me might bring answers you’re not comfortable with. You might just end up terminating my employment once it’s all said and done.”

“And then what would you do? If I fired you?”

He looked behind him to see if anyone was close enough to hear. No one lingered near the hallway. His head turned back to see her leaning against her desk, arms still crossed. “Seeing as I would only have a month’s worth paycheck, I’d make the best of the time I’d have before either crawling back to my previous job, or back home. Neither one seems all too appealing.”

“Well then I hope I won’t have a reason to fire you.” She pushed up off her desk and picked the papers back up that she had been previously reading. “I’ve got some work to get to, so if you don’t mind, let’s get on with your exercise.”

“You thoroughly distracted me.” He confessed. “I have forgotten what I intended to say.”

“Good.” She replied with a gleam. “You should be thinking of several items of merit, rather than just one. Surely it can’t be that hard to have a few on your mind?”

“Easy for you to say.” He scoffed.

“And why do you think it’s easy for me to say that?”

“Look at you!” he gestured with his hands, waving them up and down. “So put together, you always know what to say, how to handle anything thrown at you. You go around making it look so easy.”

Sam set the papers down. Honestly, it was no easy path to get where she was now. It was not without its hardship, its toil. Layers of ice and barricades. “Just tell me something you can love about yourself and get back to work, alright?”

“Fine, Missus Young. I love that at least I have the courage to say what is on my mind.” He replied, standing straight with his hands on his hips.

The smile on her face was not entirely a satisfied one, but it was all she could muster for the moment. She knew he was calling her out, and she knew she wasn’t being forthright. But they would have to both be complacent with that for now. She gave him a curt nod and he took his leave. She hated it how everyone had been right. Everyone and their damn opinions, whether she asked for it or not, had all told her the same thing in their own way, that she needed to at least open the gate, if not tear down the wall.

The wall was safe. And safe meant no one was on the inside, no one close enough to hurt her again. But it was also lonely. And lonely was terrifying.
…………………….

Come lunch Lucy was ready to rip her hair out. Charlie hiding out in his office, Samara sitting alone….these two were on the Titanic. She came to sit with Sam and knew even before her bottom graced the seat that it would be wise to not mention Charlie.

“So, have you thought about taking the guys up on the offer to go bowling?” she asked as an ice breaker. “We could always do boys vs girls.”

“That would be unfair to us as we are outnumbered 3-1. We would have to have two guys come to our side just to make a four member team. And that would defeat the purpose of a battle of the sexes.” Sam stoically replied as she glanced at the crossword puzzle in her hand.

“True. Ya got me there.” Lucy agreed, realizing it had been a foolish question. “But still, bowling in general?”

“I’m still hurting from last weekend. I apparently bruise like a peach.”

“Ah.” Lucy nodded. “Where are you hurt exactly?”

Where exactly? Oh just in the middle of my chest, where my little withered heart is hiding. Even the Grinch would need a magnifying glass to see it.

“Between the shoulders.”

Lucy hissed with sympathy. Everyone knew how painful a little jab there could hurt like the dickens for days and weeks. She watched Sam contemplate her answer before writing it into the letter blocks. She wrote the name Charles and then sighed, immediately flipping the newspaper over as Sam swore under her breath.

Looks like someone was trying and failing to keep a certain someone off her mind.

The rest of lunch passed with office talk, nothing of importance or relevance. The rest of the day followed with that same pace. Not that the day was unlike much others, but Lucy knew the air was different, and it was unsettling. There was building tension, like that of a drought, and just one strike of a match would be all it took to turn it to kindling in an instant. Her lovesick co-workers just needed to release their feelings before they exploded.

Even if she had to be the one holding the match.

She watched as YT employees finished their work and gathered their belongings, the guys gathering in a huddle to finally decide over a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors to decide the fate of their evening as Charlie began to slip past them.

“Hold on there,” she called to him. “Can you stay a moment? I need to look over something you signed.”

“Sure.”

“Just wait in your office and I’ll bring it there in a minute.” She said, gathering up things at her desk. Thinking nothing of it, he headed back to his office, re-unlocking the door. A few minutes passed as the other employees shuffled out, Samuel Young giving his daughter a hug before leaving to have a dinner date with Mrs. Young.

Sam hung back with a sigh, brutally reminded once again at how her parents had a healthier and happier sex life than she ever could. It was embarrassing and infuriating, especially when they got to schmoozing during family functions. She stood in the hallway after her father left and waited for the main hub to empty. Today she wanted the elevator alone.

She caught notice of Charlie sitting at the table in his office, usually he was gone by now. If he didn’t hurry he’d miss his evening bus and then she’d feel obligated to drive him home. She stepped in to address him when she felt the breeze and heard the sharp click of the door being closed behind her, startling the two of them. Charlie jumped up from his seat as she spun around and grabbed the knob, but the door didn’t budge.

“What just happened?” he asked as he came up to test the knob.

“I don’t know. I just stepped inside, it just closed…or someone closed it…”

“Lucy is supposed to bring me some papers, hold on; she’s probably on her way.”

They suddenly realized they were standing quite close, and each side stepped away from each other. After an impatient handful of seconds Sam began slapping the door loudly. “Lucy! Lucy are you there?”

“Calm down, I’m sure she knows we’re still here.”

“If she knows then why isn’t she here?!” she barked, feeling hot under the collar.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re getting worked up, is it the claustrophobia?”

Her hand panically danced along the wood of the door, providing him with the answer. “How is that? My office is bigger than yours.”

“Lucy!” she called again.

“Bunty, stop and breathe. Look at me.” She inhaled and turned her head. “Good. Now, I’ve actually wondered on this so perhaps now is as good a time to tell me. Why do I have the bigger office if I’m the assistant?”

“Really? You want to discuss this now?” she panted. He nodded. “Fine. When dad moved the department down to this floor he chose the smaller one so it wouldn’t look so inviting for everyone to come and lounge in. This has been used as our makeshift room for board meetings to the break room to even storage before we hired you. Hence why we had to clean it out and it took a few days to prepare.”

After explaining she noticed how much calmer her voice was, how steady her breathing had become. A well placed distraction tactic to ease her mind. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did. But it also answered my question as well.”

“I think Lucy locked us in here.”

“I think you may be right.”

Sam inhaled deeply, then released in a calming ‘ohm’ sound before turning on the door and waylaying into it, screaming her receptionists full name like an angry mother. “Lucille Anne-Marie Wright! If you don’t open this door I’m going to kill you, and then you’re fired! And I-I’m gonna break your glasses s-so your ghost won’t even see which hallway to haunt in the afterlife!”

Charlie busted into a snicker, trying to withhold his laughter at her futile attempt to sound terrifying when she herself was starting to crack. A moment later they were both chortling, him teasing her about her poorly worded threat that she couldn’t deliver with conviction. After a moment she leaned on the door and sighed. He stood with his arms crossed, tucking in his lips and then making a popping sound. “I suppose now is a good time to talk…”

Her eyes darted to the window. “We could climb out! We’re only on the first floor!”

He leaned his neck down and met her eyes. “You have any experience climbing out of window in a pencil skirt?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it!”

“Do you really want to be SEEN climbing from a window in a pencil skirt?”

She opened her mouth, then firmly shut it. No, she didn’t want that at all. What could possible pass for a believable excuse? And then Lucy would be fired for real. Not something she wanted either.

“You think this is what she intended for us to do?” he prompted.

“Either that or end up…” she said but then trailed off.

“I promise,” he declared, bringing a hand up and placing it over his heart. “That I shall not kiss you unless you ask me to do so.”

She crossed her arms and tossed him a sideways glance. “And what makes you so sure that I will?”

“I’m not certain of it.” he plainly replied.

“So are we going to talk about it?”

“I thought we were going to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Yeah, well that hasn’t been sitting well with me.” She uncrossed her arms and shifted her feet. “I’m guessing you’re not exactly happy with that decision either.”

“Frankly, I agreed with you.” He then took his turn to lean upon his door. He could easily unlock it; he did escape rooms after all. But Lucy’s dramatic action at least needed to be played out a little. “I was afraid you’d call me into your office and write me up for sexual harassment or something, or tell me I’d be let go but with a warning…I still don’t know what came over me.”

She turned her back to him. “Because you like me.”

He almost didn’t hear her as he was straining his ear to hear for anyone in the hallway or nearby. “I do like you.” He confessed. “Makes me wonder why you would like me though…”

“What?” she spun around. “What do you mean you wonder why? You’re a wonderful person Charlie.”

Wonderful. He crossed his arms. “My mum tells me I’m wonderful, that’s what mums do. But I don’t see it. I see a skinny kid who’s been the victim of every bully on the block, teased for wearing glasses, teased for being tall, teased because I knew to play the piano...” He sighed. “Teased for being smart enough to skip ahead, graduate early. No matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough to gain anyone’s respect.”

She felt that tug in her chest. She knew exactly what it had been like. She’d been bullied for being smart, for being asthmatic, for wearing heavy grade prescription glasses… Being bullied was how she and Angela formed their friendship, that wild little redhead stepping in and pounding the crap out of two older girls that had cornered her and brought her to her knees in tears.

“I’ve been there.” She said softly. No wonder she felt like he reminded her of herself. He had gone through the same thing as she did, even across an ocean.

“Every day you make me bare myself with our exercise, and honestly, it’s been so difficult to see what it is you see.” He pushed off the door and stormed over to his backpack, unzipping it with a yank and pulling out a notebook. “I’ve even started making a list.” He waved it with tense frustration. “Just so I actually have more than one thing.”

She brought a hand up to her mouth to prevent the little hint of a chuckle that threatened to come out. “You started doing homework for that?” she started closing the distance between them. “Let me see.”

He stood up straight and pulled the notebook behind his back. “N-no…it’s private stuff.”

“The whole point of the exercise is to think of things off the top of your head, not have some sort of cheat sheet that you can recite from.” She explained, reaching for it. “It’s going to become a crutch.”

He extended his arm, her trying to reach around him as he leaned his head down low and she up at him. “No Missus Young, it’s not a crutch if helps me feel empowered. I can say whatever I choose, whether it’s written down or not, you need not have to know, as long as it’s the truth.”

A genuine smile crested upon her lips. “Well well, and look who’s calling me Bunty.” Their moment of silence was interrupted when they heard an unidentified noise from down the hall, snapping them from their banter.

“We should probably be going.” He said, cramming the notebook into his backpack. “I’ve already missed my bus.”

“But how?”

He strolled over to his desk and pulled out a paper clip, then took his wallet and slipped a card out from it. He tossed a look back over his shoulder. “I’m guessing you’ve forgotten something about my application.” He said as he squatted at the door, sliding the card in between the door and the frame with one hand, and having bent the paperclip, put it in as well and began to fiddle.

It dawned on her. “Escape rooms…” she sucked in a breath. “You mean to tell me you knew how to get out of here all along?”

He laughed as he heard a click, the bolt slipping from the lock.

“You crafty bastard.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He cleared his throat and stood up, grinning smugly.

“At any time you could’ve done….Wait, were you in on this?”

“Goodness no. Wound me with your suspicions.” he responded with a dramatic hand to his chest.

She brought her hand up to her forehead and rubbed nervously. ‘I must be letting my paranoia show more than ever. I can’t possibly go around thinking that everyone is against me…First thinking that RedDragon might be a corporate spy, now this?’

With his backpack slung onto his back, he came up to her. “I swear I had nothing to do with this, but I did want to play along for a little while.” He took hold of her hand that was just lying at her side and brought it to his lips. “Forgive me?” he asked with sparkling blue topaz eyes as he laid a feather light kiss to the top of her hand.

“I-I thought you said…”

“What I said is in regards to a true kiss…” he pointed towards her lips. “Unless you’d like one there instead?”

“Stop being a tease and let’s just get out of here.”
…………………

They were quiet in the elevator, quiet in the parking lot, and quiet for most of the ride back to his apartment. The elephant tagging along seemed to gain more pounds with every block, filling the backseat entirely and pushing the front seats until the occupants felt crushed into the dash.

“I’d still like to be able to call you a friend.” Sam suddenly said, the words no longer being able to be contained. “If we can just do that, then I think we’ll be alright.”

“Of course.” He replied. “Like I can say no.”

She cocked her head at the offhand remark, but paid it no mind. When she pulled into the parking space she released a held in breath. “I’m sorry for freaking out in the office. I just don’t like being in a room with a locked door.”

“Nothing to apologize for. Though I must ask on behalf of Missus Lucy, are you going to write her up?”

It was a little moment of thought. “I’m pretty sure she is contemplating that. I might just let her stew over that thought the whole weekend.”

“Not entirely cruel, but I suppose a little comeuppance is warranted.”

“Exactly.” She winked and shot a finger at him. “And what are you going to do all weekend?”

“Ruminate and cuddle my dog.”

“Lucky dog.” She said under her breath. He did hear. “How did you even figure it out?” In the back her mind, she’d been pondering if Charlie had an account on Indigneer….

He had unbuckled and his hand hovered over the handle, pausing. “I could invite you in, brew some tea, and tell you, if you like.”

It was something to consider, she could certainly ask him in a nonchalant way and find out. Just as she was considering his offer, she saw a couple emerge from their vehicle. A dark haired man and a woman with bright pink hair. The blood in her veins turned to ice. Her breath caught in her throat. He noticed the pallor of her skin and the white knuckle grip she had on the wheel. He turned his head and then knew why.

“Ah Samara…?

“Just go. I’ve got things to do.” She grit through her teeth, the lie transparent as the windows as they watched the couple make their way back from the hospital.

“We both know that’s not true. But I understand why.” His voice fell to a low tone dripping with dejection. “I suppose it’s fair to say you won’t be interested for tea and playing with Bowser, just knowing they’re next door.”

Her left hand came up and wiped at her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to…”

He opened his door and stepped out, and rounded the rear of the vehicle, back over to her driver side door. She pressed the button, rolling the window down. “Another evening then?” he suggested, leaning low so she wouldn’t have to peek her head out at all.

“Another evening.” She echoed back.

“Hey,” he said; his hand on the door frame. “Let me know when you get home, please?” She peered up at him, seeing the concern in his eyes.

Then she smiled. “Like I can say no.”

He returned the smile. He stepped back and watched as she pulled out of the parking spot and left the lot and on until her black Mercedes was out of sight. Turning back to face the apartment complex, he felt both a rush of butterflies and a kick in his gut. Seeing Marshall and Monica had been unexpected, but at least he was no longer in the hospital, so she could ease her worry ever so slightly.

Kicking off his shoes and dropping his backpack-gently-in his bedroom, he flung his work clothes off towards the hamper and grabbed a loose fitting tee shirt and sweats. He slid his feet into a pair of Vans’ and grabbed the leash. Bowser danced and yipped with joy, so happy that he gave Charlie a momentary struggle just to get it clipped on. He had to grab hold of the handrail just to not lose his footing as Bowser led the way. At least the hike back up the stairs was calmer. He’d just settled into his couch when there was a knock at the door.

He threw his head back and growled in his throat before lifting himself off the relaxing cushions. Checking the peephole, he wasn’t entirely surprised it was Marshall-Benjamin-whatever the fuck he wanted to be called. He opened the door and was greeted with a big grin and a milk crate full of alcohol of varying types.

“Did I miss the memo on when we became drinking buddies?” Charlie asked; letting him set the heavy load on his kitchen counter.

“Consider this the memo.” He answered, straining with the load. A few days in the hospital had zapped him of his strength. “I’m under new medications and guidelines from the docs, and they say no booze. Pity, cuz I just bought this.” He lamented, holding up a bottle.

“And you figured….”

“Give it to the man who saved my life, of course!” his neighbor cheered brightly. “Both Monica and I want to show our gratitude in whatever way we can. Plus, she’s been on me about getting rid of this stuff…”

“Kind of you, but I don’t really drink.”

“Well now you get a free pass to try. What’s better than free booze?”

“Hold on a bit.” Charlie said, holding his hand up to halt everything. “I need clarification. Just what do I call you?”

“Marshall. Marshall Law.”

“And why?”

“Well if you really want to know, Marshall’s my middle name. But when things ended with Sam, I just didn’t feel like ‘Benjamin Lawson’ anymore. So I gave myself a moniker and ran with it. No one but my fam calls me Ben.”

Marshall finished removing all the alcohol from the milk crate and set it on the floor, then turned and opened Charlie’s fridge and started loading in cans of beer.

“I’m not surprised that she didn’t come see me at the hospital. She gave them all the information they needed when you guys first came. Though I wanted to tell her about the route I took.”

“I’m sure that she appreciates it, but isn’t ready to hear it just yet.”

“Just like how she wouldn’t get out of the car earlier?” Marshall slyly remarked as he set the last can in. “I recognize that Mercedes anywhere. I told Monica to just act natural and walk by like it wasn’t even there. Didn’t want any trouble.”

“Admirable of you.” Charlie replied with pessimism. “Was it your idea to send Monica to Young Tech or did she decide to drag herself across the coals?”

“Oh that was all on her.” Marshall chirped with his hands raised, Charlie catching sight of his heart monitor bracelet. “When my Kitten gets an idea in her head, man she runs with it. She told me you charged in and Sam saying something about a fight she didn’t need you for.”

Charlie looked over his new liquor supply with curiosity and suspicion. “And she was right. She handled herself just fine. I only heard raised voices, not actually what was said, so naturally I was concerned.”

Marshall ran a hand through his hair. “No dude I get it. Sam is adorable. She has this magnetism to her, this freaking aura that just lures you in. I dunno what did it for me at first cuz she’s not my usual type. But once I had a taste I just didn’t want to let go.”

“Are you sure you should be speaking to me about her like that?” the Welsh asked, eyebrow raised at his neighbor.

“Dude.” Marshall replied, as if the one word encompassed everything.

“I honestly don’t get it when people say that and nothing more.” He sighed, wondering how he was either going to handle drinking this stuff or cooking with it-if that was even an option.

“You think I can’t tell?”

Charlie felt that hot tingle run along his back as Marshall continued.

“You were gonna beat me to a pulp. You’ve been constantly on me about making it right, and you saved my worthless ass when you could’ve just called 911 and left it at that. You became a hero for her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Charlie turned away, picking up Bowser who had been right at his feet. “I just did a good deed for my neighbor.”

“Come on dude, man to man. How long have you had it for her?”

Charlie dodged the question by taking Bowser all the way to the couch and handing him a toy. “I appreciate your gift, but I think you should be heading back.”

“Monica knows where I am. I think you’re the one person she trusts me to be with for any length of time now.” Marshall rounded the counter and came into the living room. “I’m not gonna judge your tastes, Hell; you two are probably a better match than she and I ever could be.”

“Why do you say that?” Charlie couldn’t help but wonder.

“You two are smart. Like, top tier smart.” Marshall raised his hand up to represent a bar. “You’re digging her game right? You totally get it. And to get hired on at Young Tech? Especially right out of college?” He plopped down on the available chair and sighed.

“Please, have a seat and stay a while.” Charlie sarcastically invited. “You must’ve been bored out of your mind in the hospital to want to come and visit with me.”

“Oh man, it was rough. Not being able to play or stream or record anything for days. Monica let me make a post on my social just to keep the fans informed but not much else. And I can’t have sex for at least three weeks!”

Charlie reeled back from the unexpected outburst, gripping onto Bowser’s rump for a moment before returning to languidly petting him. “I really didn’t need to know that.”

“Can’t get my heart all too excited now. Like no scary movies or surprise parties.” He continued as if Charlies had said nothing. “My homies are gonna tease me so much for this, I just know it.”

“Anyway…”Charlie drawled out, trying to steer the conversation away from all this TMI that Marshall was being so blasé about.

“Yeah anyway, I can tell you have a thing for her. And it doesn’t bother me. I mean, it might be weird at first, especially on those mornings after, but hey, she’s a grown woman and fully capable of deciding what she wants now that she made all her mistakes with me.”

Scratching his head, Charlie was trying to figure a way to end this conversation without having to literally remove him physically from the place. Please god, make him stop talking. About anything. All weekend. That’d be great.

“Didn’t realize I needed your approval but she and I are just friends.” He stated firmly. Maybe too firmly. Marshall looked at him.

“Just friends?” he leaned in a bit, smiling like he knew everything. “You have Denial written all over your face man.”

“For the love of god.” Charlie sighed. “Can’t I be left alone?”

Marshall laughed. “Hope her dad doesn’t catch you looking at her at work, that’s all I gotta say.”

Laying his head back against his couch he shook his head. “Oh I’ve already had the pleasure of making Samuel and Jay’s acquaintance and they both eyed me like I was some sort of mustache twirling villain. Probably no thanks to you.”

“You’re probably right about that.”

“It irks me to no end on how much they coddle her.” He found himself saying, giving into the urge of vocalizing with someone who spoke back with words and not barks. “She’s constantly trying to prove herself. To everyone, to herself. I wish she could just relax and see her worth.”

“Sam was never good at that.” Marshall replied sadly. “God she was so vestal. Her face would go cherry red at the slightest hint of a dirty joke. I found myself watching what I said so she wouldn’t think I was some pervert. But she loved my sketches and I love the way she lit up when talking about games… And I guess we fooled ourselves into thinking we were meant to be.”

It suddenly fell quiet. The first time since Marshall had entered the apartment. Bowser was snoring. Then his phone pinged with a text message. Charlie lifted it up and couldn’t hide the smile that flashed across his face when he saw it was from her, letting him know she did in fact, get home safely. He immediately responded in kind, thanking her and saying that if she needed to talk, his phone was always available.

When he looked up he caught the all-knowing grinning face of Marshall snickering back at him. “Charlie and Sammy, kissing in a tree…” he started singing playfully.

“Knock it off.” The blond rolled his eyes, setting his phone face down. “That’s so childish.”

“But it’s truuuuue.” Marshall teased.

“Is not.” Charlie declared. “We’ve never kissed in a tree and I highly doubt that will ever happen.”

“Oh?” Marshall perked up. “So you’re saying you HAVE kissed?”

“What? No! Course not!” Charlie’s voice raised an octave. Marshall was not convinced. His face reddened despite himself.

Marshall just began to laugh boisterously, slapping his knee and rocking back and forth. Bowser was awakened and after shaking himself, jumped from the couch to go see their loud guest. He leaned down to pet the little guy as his laughs fizzled out. “Oh man, you gotta get better at your poker face!”

Charlie stood up. “Alright, visiting hours are officially over.” He said, pulling Marshall out of the chair and ushering him towards his door.

“Aww come on, this was just getting good!” Marshall whined with a laugh.

“I am not a television show for your entertainment.” He adamantly declared as he opened the door and gave Marshall a nudge. “Thank you again for your generous gift and your visit.”

“Course dude, if you need anything-”

“I’ll be sure to.” And with that, Charlie firmly shut the door and let out a pent up breath. It was unclear if Marshall was on medication or hyped up from being released or was like that naturally, but whatever the case was, he’d been a little too energetic for his taste. Emotionally and mentally worn out, he was now just wanting a quick meal and a long rest.

He wandered into his kitchen and set the kettle on the stove, then he searched his pantry cabinet and pulled out a cup of instant noodles-a godsend to the penny pinchers-and undid the plastic seal. Another ping from his phone startled him so much that he fumbled the Styrofoam container and held it to his chest for a second. After setting it down he hurried over to his phone, surprised that it was another text from her.

SY: I behaved like a coward, and for that I’m sorry

CJ: you have nothing to apologize for

SY: yes I do. Because I wanted to come inside and have tea and talk and play with Bowser

CJ: we could always go to a dog park, though there won’t be any be tea

SY: would this be before or after you finish Ruminate?

CJ: it’s whenever you want. Name the day and time and I’ll be ready.

SY: you don’t have to answer to my beck and call you know.

CJ: I have no other plans, my schedule is pretty open.

SY: what if I picked a day you have fencing practice?

CJ: they’ll be fine without me

SY: just like that?

CJ: just like that.

The kettle whistled and bubbled, jostling him from his little electronic conversation and bringing him back to reality. He switched off the heat and carefully poured the water into the cup and set it down. There was enough for a spot of tea, so he reached into his cabinet for his usual mug and American brand of Earl Grey tea bags that weren’t so bad after all. Letting everything steep, he returned to his phone.

SY: let me sleep on it

CJ: sleep as long as you like

SY: I’d sleep better if I had some piano music…

He smiled. It had been so long since anyone had given him any praise for his pianist skills. The long year here in America, and his last few back home. His grandmother always appreciated a little melody while she gardened. And sure, she could easily open her laptop to Spotify and listen to her choice of classical music, but it was different when it was performed by hand, performed by a friend.

CJ: it’s a little early for bed, isn’t it? It is Friday after all.

SY: I’m not going to bed so soon, still making dinner

“That reminds me…” he said to himself, running back to his kitchen and retrieving his insta-cup of noodles and his mug of tea-after adding in a touch of milk, and brought them to the living room. They took residence on the coffee table as he picked his phone up.

CJ: as am I. I suppose we should just end our conversation and get to our meal

SY: yeah I suppose…

He somehow felt he sadness radiating off that text as if she had sighed right beside him. But texting and eating just didn’t work out cohesively. Your food either sat and got cold or you wolfed it down too fast to enjoy it just to respond with a few button presses.

CJ: here’s to a pleasant meal. Iechyd Da.

He’d long ago had to program his text dictionary to accept Welsh words and phrases for when he couldn’t have a verbal conversation with his family and would respond with the ever occasional text. A seven hour time zone made finding the right time for a phone call difficult. In occasional moments the texts were just easier to do.

He expected some sort of follow up, but none came. Setting the phone down, he started in on his noodles, finally putting food into his belly. Once he made short work of that he sipped his nearly tepid tea and marched to his bedroom to play Ruminate on the new Skylight. It was quickly becoming his favorite of the two laptops. It ran so smoothly, so quickly.

In RUMINATE:

He was faced with a dragon that had been terrorizing a handsome royal, teamed up with a female knight charged with his rescue. Once the royal was free from the clutches of the beast he pulled the feather from the ink bottle and cast a binding spell, holding the dragon in place. In a flash of light, the dragon shrunk to a diminutive size, no more than he supposed Bowser was to him. He picked up the little hellrasier and carried him away, leaving the royal and his knight to their own NPC plot.

He entered the forest, where he had seen the spirit lingering early on. If his assumption was correct, this was where he needed to be. The apparition appeared before him, the lost look on her face as usual. He flung his cape aside and revealed the pint sized dragon strapped to his chest-the only safe place he could keep him without sustaining burn damage. He brought the feather to the nose of the little fella, tickling him into a fiery sneeze fit that lit the feather.

As it burned, he placed it on the remains of the spirit’s skeleton, watching a phoenix rise upwards before a brilliant light filled the screen. A moment later, the bones were gone, the spirit was gone…and there was a naked girl, her body strategically covered by foliage of the forest. The scene played out in storyboard, the playing character wrapping his cloak around her and carrying her back to the castle.

A hero’s welcome awaited him, a knighting ceremony to follow. Previous NPC’s that he had encountered and helped along his journey were there in celebration of their hero, his knighthood established and deeds recognized as the Queen offered her daughter’s hand in marriage.

He hadn’t expected an action prompt, but the box appeared, two choices ahead:

A) Accept
B) Refuse

It seemed odd, that there would be the choice to refuse. Surely, anyone would want to marry the princess and thus become the next in line to the throne. Wasn’t that the ultimate goal? Tempting as it was to take the offer, he just had to see what awaited one who was so bold as to say no. Considering he was always finding himself at odds with saying that. He clicked on Refuse, the storyboard continued, with the obvious shocked faces of the royal family, but they acquiesced his decision and still hailed him a hero.

The credits began to roll, listing the very small amount of contributors to her work, with a dedication to Benjamin-her loving husband-to follow.

“Husband?” he choked out. Amazing how neither one of them ever used the word marriage/wife/husband in all their conversations. The two of them merely referred to each other in passing as a partner and nothing more. Like it never happened.

But he remembered seeing that ring…he had thought it odd for her to have a little wedding band, but he simply glanced at it and assumed it had been the promise of a marriage that never took place. Engaged but betrayed.

“Jesus Marshall…what an idiot you were to let her go…” he sighed, rolling his head back along his wood framed headboard. He was about to close the laptop when a sad string of notes permeated into his ears. Glancing at the screen, he saw a splash of blood, heard the note representing the sound of the dagger falling to the ground, the crumpled body of the princess he had just resurrected lying in a crimson pool.

“Beth gythraul?” He shot upright, watching the horror play out across the screen.

The hero was riding his horse through the forest, passing through a patch of shrubbery, a figure in the back looming unseen. Familiar and sad, the princess.

Secret Ending: “Haunted” Never Alone.
………………………

Chapter Text

He’s gonna know now. Once he finishes the game, he’s going to see the dedication, and then he’ll know-as if he doesn’t already by now. And then what is he going to think? Is his opinion of me going to change? Will I end up shattering the rose tinted glasses he looks upon me with?

Doesn’t matter what ending he gets, he’s going to come up and say 'oh it was a fun challenge but that sappy dedication just takes away any credibility.'

So this is what broke you two up? You worked so hard….on this?

WAS IT WORTH IT?

. . . . . . . . .

Sam shot out of bed, hair a rat’s nest and eyes wet. She reached for her glasses, secured them in place and flung the blanket up in a graceful arc before it sailed down to the other side of California King. On her feet, she barreled around the bed and stormed into the bathroom.

After relieving herself she angrily stripped and turned on the shower head. A bath would’ve been nice, but if she slipped inside its porcelain caress then she’d never be able to pull herself out. She didn’t have it in her today. If she could lay in bed and not have to answer her body’s need for sustenance or evacuation, she would. She’d dive right back under those covers and ignore the world, ignore her family, ignore her phone.

The shower was a shock at first, the hot had not been turned over enough, but she tortured herself by standing in the rain before it warmed and then steamed. She let it pelt her, heat easing the pain of her bruise. Each day that had passed it lessened thankfully. She had done everything in her power; the muscle ache cream, the pain reliever, the heat pad and ice packs….

The water pouring into her ears drowned the voices, literally and figuratively. They could no longer whisper their taunts and cloud her mind with doubt. It was a temporary fix to a long term problem. Over the years only more voices accumulated, growing like mold in the back of the fridge, like cobwebs in the attic, like stray cats tearing through the garden.

Everything she ever thought about herself was on the chopping block for examination, judgement. Was she really as good as she thought she had been when Ruminate was just an idea that popped into her head as she lay in yet another hospital bed? All the times she sat with Link and talked about her idea, showed him sketches and plot lines she had written-that he happily complimented and made positive critics to-were they just clouded by the years?

What if he played it and told her it didn’t present enough of a challenge? Would he still respect her in the office come Monday? Come any day after? There would always be that chance that he would say it was fine but secretly thought it was shit and just because he had been raised with manners he’d never actually tell her?

“God damn it! Shut up already!” she screamed, turning the water off.

The bathroom echoed back with an uncomfortable ring. Plugging her pinky fingers into her ears she wiggled them and slid them out with a pop, relieving the waterlogged pressure. She felt her way back to her sink, opened a drawer to pull out a washcloth and dried her face, dried her lenses, and slid them back upon her nose. She didn’t bother checking her reflection; all she would see would be a drowned rat in spectacles.

After drying herself off she marched butt naked back to her closet and selected fresh clean underwear and house lounging clothing. Nothing like dressing like a hobo when you felt like one. She had managed to stave off her family for yet another brunch, but they wouldn’t accept a third time in a row, that much was certain. Better make the best of this grungy free-loafer day while she had it. Taking her phone and her inhaler with her, she marched down her stairs, and stopped at her balcony in the hall.

She thought back to when she was cradled in his arms, him looking around in unrestrained awe of her home as he sought directions to her bedroom. He said she lived like a princess in a tower…. A princess, locked away. Shaking away the thought, she continued to the first stairwell and descended.

Her fridge needed restocking. It had needed it all week, but she had put it off. After each day at the office she had just drove by some place and picked up something for dinner, ate whatever she could of it and nibbled on it afterwards if she so felt the need to again. At least it had been the truth when she told her father she had not prepared.

But today was Saturday, and she knew there was a Farmer’s Market that took place not too far from The Daily Grind. She could keep her promise to Dee and swing by for a coffee and then pick up a few fresh vegetables and fruit. Even dressed as homely as she was. Who would care?

Well, so much for staying in bed all day. So much for hiding from the world.

…………………………

Charlie found himself standing over the prone form of a brunette girl in a fine purple gown, hair spilling in luscious curls, limbs soaked in the blood pooling out from under her. A dagger had fallen from her hand, its twisted hilt somehow familiar, but why he couldn’t say. He crouched low, touching the delicate hand, finding it gone cold already.

“You killed her.” A voice purred.

He spun around, finding the Kat-Kin vendor he had encountered upon entering the marketplace.

“I did not.” He proclaimed. “I-I brought her back! You were there at the ceremony!”

“Ohhhh, indeed you did return the princess, alive. But when you left, you took her life with you.”

“What? No! It was not my intention! I wanted her to live!”

“Then why reject her?” the feline purred, paws imploring.

Charlie stood; hands red with her blood. “I didn’t do this…I didn’t mean to…”

“And yet, you did….” The Kat-Kin picked up the discarded dagger.

Then it dawned on him. That had been the letter opener he’d seen on the vendor table, when he reached past it and bought the quill instead. “You!” he yelled, pointing a red stained finger.

The little creature glared with now cruel eyes. “I only sell to those in need; I procure whatever you may desire. She sought me out, paid me well.”

“Ti cachu bach!” he screamed, lunging for the Kat-Kin, who merely faded into darkness before his fingers could touch him.

“Farewell honored customer….” The voice purred with a throaty echo as darkness swallowed him.

Charlie flung out of bed with a start, nearly running right the wall but he managed to stop himself in time. His hair was damp with sweat, his chest pounding, his eyes burning even though he had them firmly squeezed shut. Bowser trotted over to him, full of canine comfort and curiosity. It took a moment, but he was able to calm down.

He realized why his eyes were irritated; he’d slept with his contacts in. Cursing himself, he marched into his bathroom and began the awful process of flushing his eyes out and removing the little lenses. Today would be a glasses day. Wanting to rid himself of his sleep sweat, he disrobed and entered his shower. Jostled by the abrupt cold, he was fully alert now.

After washing himself and drying off he selected a casual shirt and pair of jeans, towel shook his hair dry and ran his fingers through it and slipped on his glasses. “Come on boy.” He called to Bowser. A brisk trot down the three flights was enough to get one’s blood pumping. Bowser took to his little area and did his business and happily hoofed it back up the stairs on their return. A rummage through his fridge reminded him that he had not yet picked up groceries. But gladly today was Saturday and that meant Farmer’s Market day. Something he was quite pleased to discover that took place nearby, for it saved him on needing to use public transportation and money. It was a little something that reminded him of home, which his mother had been heart warmed to hear when he discovered it.

Having fed the little beast, securing the food container and making toast, they were both set to attend the market. Bowser was a welcomed customer and often got a little treat from any given vendor. That probably contributed to his obesity. “I probably shouldn’t be taking your fat little butt along today, but you could use the exercise.”
………………………

Sam stepped into The Daily Grind with trepidation, but she was warmly received with a hug from Dee and nervous smile from Link-who stayed behind the counter. He greeted her kindly and took her order as per the norm and made sure to secure the lid on her cup tightly before handing it off. She took the warm red cup that was handed to her with the care of the Olympic torch, accepting both the item and the peace offering it presented, Dee overseeing the entire thing with Peacemaker Momma Energy.

Dee swept up next to her as she turned to leave. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she whispered with smugness.

“That was harder than you think so don’t gloat.” She muttered before taking a sip. “I’m off to the market, I need some fresh greens.”

“If I didn’t smell the shampoo I’d say you need to freshen yourself, are we going incognito?” her friend gestured to her grunge vibe attire of an oversized graphic tee shirt and baggy shorts. “The nineties called, they want their fashion back.”

“It’s the weekend, bite me.” Sam teased back.

“Maybe some other time. Unlike you I gotta get back to work.”

“See ya later.” She parted with a wave and headed off towards the market held a block away. She could safely park at the DG lot and walk the rest of the way, an arrangement made long ago between the friends. Today the sky was colorless, a wash of milky white and gray with no threat of rain, only a reminder of what had fallen during the night. Only a slight breeze to toss flyaway hairs around her face and waft the scents from vendors that sold freshly cooked meats, lemonade pressed and poured for serving, and the handmade soaps. She pulled the recyclable bag from her back pocket, unfolded it and hooked it onto her arm and began browsing.

Charlie was standing at a table loaded with various fruits, both fresh and dried, jars of preserves and little handmade pies. It reminded him so much of his grandmother’s cooking. He wanted a little bit of everything as it made his mouth water. As he was contemplating his purchase Bowser kept pulling on his leash, jerking his hand.

“Wait your turn potbelly.” He said; eyes still on the table of produce.

In return he yipped and pulled harder. Charlie sighed in frustration and turned his head to see what had agitated Bowser and did a double take. The first glance was inconsequential, but the second revealed the profile of a tomboyishly dressed Samara Young browsing at another vendor’s table, a sack on her arm and coffee cup in hand.

He quickly turned his head back, not wanting to draw her attention.

Sam could’ve sworn she heard a familiar bark, and turning her head to the sound, she saw Bowser and Charlie a few tables away. The little mutt had spotted her and wanted her attention. Charlie seemed too invested in little fruit pies to notice. She turned her head and after excusing herself from the table, began to backtrack towards another aisle.

If he could just make his purchase and go, he’d be out of her peripheral and they wouldn’t bump into each oth-

Bowser gave a mighty yank and took off, the leash slipping from Charlie’s grip. He yelled a quick “Sorry!” to the vendor and immediately went after him. Bowser had the head start and the advantage of four legs, catching his query and darting around her legs, effectively catching her in her tracks. She stopped, caught and she knew it.

Charlie came up and around to face her, unsure of whether to laugh or die from embarrassment at the whole thing. Bowser was bouncing and yipping for Sam to acknowledge him. She held her coffee cup upright but bent low to pet him, her hair sweeping over her face as she stood back up.

A tight lipped smile crossed her face, seeing Charlie just a little reddened by his dog’s behavior. “Looks like Bowser caught himself a princess.” She joked, watching her assistant turn even redder.

His hand came to scratch the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah….” He nervously laughed. “Well let me rescue you then.” He squatted low and unwrapped the leash from around her ankles. All the while his ears felt like they’d melt off from the heat radiating off his face. He was unsure to thank or curse Bowser for his little stunt. When Charlie was face to face with her again he said “Free at last.”

“My hero.” She teased. “While not surprised that you’d eventually learn of this, I’m surprised you’re here today.”

“My thoughts exactly. I thought you were going to stay home.”

She sipped her brew. “I was. Until the fridge reminded me it was empty.”

He nodded. “Same.”

“Well then, I guess we better get shopping.” She suggested with a smile that he met.

Their shopping trip started at the fruit vendor’s table, selecting some fresh fruits and some dried-which soon became a little snack as they walked around more, just popping them into their mouths, handing each other more samples of their individual source, much like kids sharing candy at school. They stopped and admired the handmade crafts and soaps, picking up the sample bars and giving them an investigative sniff, holding them out to each other to smell.

“Oh my goodness, this Summer Delights one is heavenly.” She said before inhaling deeply. She held it out for him, watching as he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent, taking hold of her hand to steady it. Somehow, it didn’t bother her that he had done that. His hold was as gentle as if her wrist were a champagne flute.

“It certainly alerts the senses.” He remarked. He then looked at the little collection and picked up one labeled Red Dragon. Brought to his nose, he inhaled, noting hints of cinnamon and Dragon’s Blood oil, along with patchouli. Fiery and musky. “What about this one?” he asked, holding it out to her.

After setting down the Summer Delights, she took both her hands and cradled the burgundy sample held within his palm. She leaned in and sniffed, momentarily intoxicated by the musky scent. “I like it.” She said, watching his eyes shift ever so slightly.

“I’ll have to consider it. After all, I came here for produce.” He replied casually as he had set it down. Sam made a mental note of the name it was given.

They continued on, their bags filling with everything from leeks and cauliflower to strawberries and bundles of rosemary. When she finished her coffee he offered to take it, handing the leash to her and dashing off to where he had last seen a trash bin. Sam stood with Bowser, giving the pup the side eye.

“You didn’t want me to get away, did ya?” she asked him. He wagged his stumpy tail with glee, pressed against her leg so she could scratch his ears. “You like me that much?” He seemed enamored by her touch, licking her hand in gratitude for the little petting. “I like you too.”

“Gone a minute and he’s already your favorite?” Charlie asked, seemingly from nowhere. She immediately righted herself at his sudden appearance. She turned with a snarky smile. “Course he is, what’s not to love about this soft boy? I bet he’s the best at cuddles too.”

“Oh now?” he queried, playing along. “Some might take that as a challenge.”

She shrugged as if it were no big deal, swinging her shoulders back and forth. “I hear dogs are better at it.” Honestly, it was all too easy to fall into bantering, especially now as they were not in the office. He brought out that teenagerish joy in the playful manner, as if she could say anything and not be judged. She held her hand out to hand over the leash; he took hold of her hand, finger caressing the side of hers as the braided cord slipped from one wrist to another. The transfer felt like it took a full minute in the span of the seconds it actually transpired.

“Well anything Bowser tells you is a lie, he’ll say anything to look good in front of a lady.” He joked.

“Oh is that so?” she played back with feigned surprise. “I shall be on my guard then.”

After a light chuckle between them, they continued walking around the market, selecting more goods and sampling concoctions like homemade salsa and brownies. Neither one of them wanted to discuss the elephant following their every move, but after taking a seat on the grass to let Bowser be petted by some children, Charlie was the first to breach the subject.

“I finished Ruminate.” He said suddenly.

“Oh?” she replied, growing nervous.

“But I don’t want to say how it ended until I tell you how it began.”

“Only fair.” She nodded, accepting Bowser into her lap. He seemed to know she needed the comfort. The kids had returned to their parents and left, leaving them in privacy. The privacy of sitting out in the open as people walked by in their own bubble of their personal lives.

“I have to tell you, it was actually Marshall-that’s what he wants to be referred to as now-who found it after unpacking an old laptop. He made such a ruckus that I barged over to see and he literally dragged me inside his flat to show me, rattling on about how he helped in its creation. He never said your name; he never gave away the status of your relationship either. But the way he said it…I figured it out.”

She only nodded.

“Then the morning I came into your office…” he trailed off, not really needing to finish the rest of that sentence. “I saw the title, only for a second. Such a rarely used word, it stuck with me.” He confessed. “So that night I joined the site and began to play.”

“He told me…you threatened to beat his ass.”

“I did.” He answered honestly, no hesitation. “I was enraged on your behalf. I wanted him to hurt, but I could see he already was.” He paused, inhaled, and continued. “When I returned home, I was trying to calm down and ended up cutting my hand on my drinking glass.”

She reached over, taking his right hand. He didn’t resist as she flipped it over, tracing her finger along the red line in his palm.

“I was ashamed of my behavior. Acting like a fool, and for what? All I knew is that you didn’t deserve the pain you were in, and I lived next door to the blockhead that caused it.”

Her lips curled in a weak smile. How would she have felt if he had actually beaten Ben-Marshall down? It wouldn’t have changed anything about her rating, the fans still followed blindly like lemmings. But would it have changed how she felt about him? This sweet soul whom she had seen only briefly release a hint of that dangerous nature every man was capable of?

“And about…us?” she whispered, finally releasing his hand. But he flipped it over and delicately trailed his fingers across the top of her hand. “I was unable to use the blasted can opener…so I humbly brought myself to his door, only to be met with that pink haired harridan. She took pity on me and prepared the soup, asking about you.” He finally retracted his hand, adjusted his glasses, and then resting it in his lap. She returned to petting Bowser.

“I figured it out, she was the other woman, but I didn’t want to hear about the how and why. It didn’t matter; it was none of my business. She seemed genuinely shocked by the fact that I didn’t want to be involved. In passing, she gave me her business card. I hoped our truce would also serve as a barrier to our interactions.”

“So you just…?”

“I was honestly trying to avoid it all. Seemed no matter what I did though, I was pulled further into it.”

“I’m sorry-” she began but was cut off.

“I’m not.” Came his instant interjection.

Startled by his answer, she sat dumbfounded for a moment.

He took the opportunity to take hold of her hand, holding it firmly this time. “I’m glad to have been placed in your path. It has given me insight not only to the side of you that you’ve hidden away, but I’ve learned about myself through this as well. Taken me out the comfort zone I became accustomed to. Something I could’ve have done on my own. So thank you Samara.”

Their eyes locked, in the bright light of day, surrounded by tents and tables and rows of parked cars and people milling about, there was only them. Not even the panting dog in her lap could break the spell around the two as they felt something neither had truly experienced before.

Sam had once felt something like this, but only like. Whatever it was that was coursing through the very core of her was new. Electric and fiery, sparkling and glowing, it was enchanting and terrifying at once.

Charlie knew there had been a significant change within him, compared to the nervous lad that had first walked through the doors of Young Technologies and into the General Manager’s office, faced with the intimidating Samara Young. He had been forced out of his comfort zone by events he had no control over and of his own violation, growing more as a person each day, each week.

A new feeling burst into creation, rising like the birth of Venus from the sea.

“Have dinner with me, tonight.” He suddenly declared. “Please.”

Her eyes widened at the unexpected request, her hand still safely secured within his own, eyes piercing and pleading but his voice holding no trace of its normal hint of fear and nervousness. She blinked several times, each one resetting her brain back to factory settings as she tried to compute thought.

“I want to talk about Ruminate and tell you one last thing….and when I do, that’ll be it. I won’t ask again, I won’t make you feel like you have to do anything for my sake. I just want to show my appreciation to you.”

Courage.

He’d never felt it before. Not when cornered by bullies, not when passed on by girls in school, not when faced with the daunting choice of seeking an American based career. If not for encouraging words from his small family, he’d had never been able to step foot on that plane and take that leap. For the first few months every day had been terrifying. The prospect of securing an apartment and taking that job until his application at Young Tech was processed left him filled with dread that it’d never go through, and he’d have wasted his education and left his homeland for naught.

“I thought…” but the sentence trailed into nothing.

“Whatever you choose, I’ll respect that decision. Say no and I won’t pressure you. But I’d rather discuss it in detail, over a meal neither of us has to cook, whatever restaurant you want to be at. No bar fights, no pushy family or friends making threats, just…us.”

“Just…us…” she repeated, the two words filling her chest with immeasurable warmth. A date. A dinner date. Just him and myself.

She found herself standing upon a precipice, staring into a pool of the clearest blue water she’d ever seen. Water that looked enchanting and welcoming, beckoning for her to jump.

She took a breath. And took that leap.

“Yes.”
……………………..

Charlie stopped suddenly when he spotted a shoebox at his door and pulled Bowser back so he could pick it up. A yellow Post-It note was scrawled on top that merely said: For Charlie, from M & M. Perplexed by the lightweight box, he tucked it in his arm as he unlocked the door and carried it and his bag from the farmer’s market, setting both on the countertop before unhooking Bowser and letting him zoom freely around the living room.

He picked up a kitchen knife and sliced the duct tape holding the lid onto the box, then tilted the lid back but shut it quickly in surprise. Heart pumping fast, he pulled the lid back again and nearly laughed. It was filled with little square packets of various colors, some labeled glow-in-the-dark and strawberry flavored.

O fy duw…..

Marshall had bequeathed him a couple dozen condoms, seeing as how he couldn’t put them to use for basically a month. There was even a little sketch of a winking faced Marshall saying “Don’t use them all at once!”

Charlie wasn’t sure if he wanted to shake his hand or throw him off his third story balcony.
…………………….

Sam drove back to her penthouse, suddenly jittery at the idea of an actual date. How long had it been? A real evening out with a man? Not just one of those “dates” where it consisted of a movie on the couch, or the ones where they went straight from “hi” to the bedroom. Charlie wanted to treat her like a lady, take her somewhere of her choice and have the time to talk without any interruptions.

She insisted though, that if she was picking the venue, that she was also paying. At first he argued, proclaiming that since it was his invitation that it was his duty to pay. Noble gesture and all, but where she wanted to go he simply couldn’t afford at the moment. Not if she wanted a place where she knew for certain that there would be no one from her past showing up or her family stopping by, because it would be the place her parents dined at for their date. And the Young’s never ate the same venue twice in a row; they always switched it up between their favorites so they avoided falling into routine.

Charlie found he was unable to argue with that logic and conceded. She smiled, recalling her win as she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button. It was a nice place, and required a formal dress code to which he certainly could scrounge up. He wasn’t apprehensive about that at all. She doubted he would care, given how they both were dressed when he asked her out.

She marched straight up her stairs and right into her walk-in closet, stood in front of the full length mirror inside and took a look at herself. Today she was grungy, even a little dirty; and the look in his eyes told her that didn’t matter at all. If he could look at her like this, then everything from then on would only be a step up. She could wear a black garbage bag wrapped in duct tape and he would probably still only see her. With that comforting thought, she began digging through her wardrobe, wondering just what would be suitable for tonight.

……………….

The shoebox with the unexpected gift was shoved under his bed, too embarrassed to even look at the thing, but not without taking one and placing it in his wallet. His grandfather had always told him to be prepared, for anything, and especially THAT. Even if nothing happened but a nice dinner between the two of them, and he would be happy with just that, it was still something he should have at hand.

Though…it was weird considering who it came from…

‘Just best to believe it came from the faeries and leave it at that.’ He thought as he yanked open his closet door and rummaged through his clothing. He’d practicing tying his real tie all week, and now he at least had the basic pattern down, his hand getting better at the movements each day. Maybe tonight he could wear it and show her?

Hours until time, and the nerves getting agitated, he stopped himself suddenly and placed his hands on his hips like Samara had taught him. He straightened his spine and breathed in. 'I can do this. I want to do this.' He told himself. He’d never be able to look in her in the eye come Monday if he flaked now.
…………………..

“Ok, breathe in and out.” She coached herself, standing in her bathroom. Fresh from her second shower of the day, stark naked and still dripping she stood at her mirror; hands on the counter. “You can do this…He knows you’re bruised and broken, he doesn’t care…so neither should you.” She pointed at her reflection. “Don’t be a coward.”

Her phone pinged, giving a shock to her already frayed nerves. She fumbled with damp hands for grip and slid her thumb across the screen, finding a message on the Indigineer message app.

RedDragon: I did complete my route. Marvelous game Miss Young.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: I’m so glad to hear that, honestly

RedDragon: I don’t suppose you’re free to meet?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: Sorry, I actually have a date tonight

RedDragon: oh? Who’s the lucky fella?

She smiled. Lucky fella? Yeah, he probably feels pretty lucky.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: a very nice young man. He and I have become friends

RedDragon: so is this just a casual friend date or something more?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: oh? Jealous? I think there’s a line forming…

RedDragon: I’m not surprised. You must leave a trail of men swooning as you walk by. It seems I will have to settle for not winning the princess

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: you’re the second man to refer to me as that. Must be something in the air…

RedDragon: or great minds think alike.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: lol I really should be getting ready

RedDragon: one question before you go…What do you think I look like?

Odd question to end a conversation with…But she had been tossing it around in her mind…surely it couldn’t be... and if it wasn’t… then who?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: oh that’s easy. Red scales, sharp teeth. Real cuddly. Lol

RedDragon: you think dragons are cuddly?

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: the cuddliest.

RedDragon: strange girl, but I like it. Alright, go finish primping.

Ariadne_the_wild_mage: thank you. I’ll speak with you later.

She set the phone down and felt her cheeks pinken. Just what game was she playing here? Would tonight reveal more than just what Charlie thought of her game? The idea was exhilarating and nauseating in one. But she was going to sally forth. No more hiding behind the small golden token of a broken promise. No more hiding behind a big wooden desk with a name plaque of expectations. No more letting the stern eyebrow tenting from her father and brother sway her from getting too close to anyone.

Tonight she would take a chance. Even if it hurt.
……………….

Charlie set his phone down. His heart thumping wildly within his chest, hands almost shaking he ran his fingers through his hair. His reflection stared back at him, questioning his choices.

Reflection: you really are going to tell her?

Charlie: I have to. I have to come clean.

Reflection: you realize she might view this as a betrayal of her trust

Charlie: I don’t care. I can’t keep this up. The next thing I say to her will more than likely give me away.

Reflection: if she hasn’t figured it out already. Then what?

Charlie: I have to tell her how I feel, regardless of the consequences. There’s no more need to hide.

Reflection: let’s hope so

…………………..

Sam slid into the driver’s seat, the cool leather chilling her back for a moment. Her hands rested on the steering wheel, trailing back and forth as her teeth nibbled her bottom lip. She breathed in slowly, held it, released it slowly and repeated. Why was this so terrifying? She faced client meetings with less anxiety than this. It’s not like she hadn’t been alone with him before…. Actually, she’d been alone with him more times than she could accurately guess. He’d see her emotionally vulnerable, physically injured, poorly dressed, and even wearing his clothes. What was left for him to see that he could judge her on?

Nothing.

Quite literally.

Lust: oooh, thinking of skipping dinner and heading straight to dessert? Not that I blame you with that slice of Welsh cake.

‘For the love of all things holy shut up tonight’

Lust: you wish sister; I’m just as much of a part of you

‘But you never know when to be quiet’

Lust: just admit you want him

‘I’d be lying if I did. But I’m not going to rush right into that. For once, I just want a slow pace with no expectations.’

Lust: riiiiight, keep telling yourself that. I’m just gonna sit here with my popcorn and watch the show

Sam shook her head and kicked the car into gear.

…………………….

Not wanting to rely on his neighbors to babysit Bowser-and explaining as to why-Charlie called Ms. Whipple and asked her to keep him for the evening. Accommodating as usual, she was more than happy to have the fella again. He appraised her of his new diet to which she promised to adhere to before they ended their call.

Then he drummed his fingers against his thigh in anticipation. He didn’t want to appear too eager and be waiting outside, then again he didn’t want her to have to hike all the way up to his flat and then just march right back down again, and that was ungentlemanly. What to do…

…………………..

She was a block away from the apartment complex when her phone pinged with the text notification. She glanced at it at the red light. It was from him, asking how she’d like to meet him; he didn’t want her exhausting herself on the stairs. She immediately rattled her fingers across her keyboard, telling him the front entrance before the light turned green.

There was no telling if he had already decided to wait outside or literally dashed down all three flights, but he was right there as she pulled the Mercedes in. As soon as she placed it in park she saw him standing at the stairwell, in a button up shirt with sleeves folded up at the elbow, a tie-she couldn’t tell if it was the clip on-and leg hugging black slacks. If not for his hair hanging casually he’d look ready for work.

He came up to her door, holding out his hand to her as she opened it. She accepted and pulled herself up to meet him. It was a treat, watching his piercing blue eyes widen and dart down and back up, only to look down again as she stepped from the vehicle, revealing her manslaying red evening dress.

“I feel wildly underdressed now.” He stated, still holding her hand and noticing a little gold bracelet with a red jewel as its clasp around her wrist. She had on a new pair of glasses, thin gold frames to match the jewelry, they looked delicate and expensive.

“You look fine.” She assured, brushing imaginary lint off his sleeves. Her hand swept across his tie, noticing the Windsor knot. It was a real one. A smile crested upon that discovery. “You’ve been practicing.”

“I have.” He said with pride. “Allow me to get your door.”

She stood and played along as he opened her door for her and assisted her back into the seat, then followed up with a gentle closing behind her. He came around to the passenger side and slid in. “I feel like I should be the one driving to pick you up, to hold open your door.” He laughed. “But I’d need a car first.”

“You know….” She drawled, reversing and exiting the lot, “I’ve been thinking that it’d be the responsibility of the company to ensure that you were licensed to drive. As my assistant you’d have to step up in my absence and that would mean driving to meet clients, and some of these trips can take hours or even days to make. I’d be at risk for exhaustion if I drove the entire way there and back.”

He glanced at her for a hint of facetiousness but found none. “You’re serious?”

“I never joke when it comes to the company Charles.” She answered seriously. “But I think it would be the best way to get you covered for driving lessons and insured through YT.”

“Clever.” He remarked, seeing how this was now the second brilliant idea of hers to use the company in order to help him. ‘Like I can say no.’ he thought with a sense of mischief. She knew what rules could be bent. She was good at finding that sweet spot. “I think you’ll make a fine CEO.” He added, catching a smile from her out of the corner of his eye. He was certain of it. He watched the buildings pass by as she drove through the city. “So where are we going?”

“Consider it a surprise, unless you don’t like surprises…?”

“I do…some of the time.” He recalled the lovely package left by the sex faeries and smirked to his self. “I apologize for the way I received the office Samara, I was still upset with you.”

“I know.” She answered. “That’s why I wanted to give it to you like a gift. You were happier with the laptop…”

“Well I am a computer geek.” He chuckled back. She couldn’t help but laugh as well. He noticed the scenery change as they were approaching the coast.

“Have you ever been to Manhattan Beach?” she asked, seeing his intense observation of their surroundings.

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Then you’re in for a treat.” She replied.
………………….

The restaurant was called The Arthur J. located on Manhattan Ave in Manhattan Beach. A white rectangular building with a wooden palette like sign featuring the logo, palm trees planted by the curb. It looked “normal” and not super upscale. It was located in a prospective area featuring the beach and beautifully sculpted buildings that made part of scenery which was Los Angeles. It was still something his little country heart was having to get accustomed to.

He held open the door for her of course and pulled out her chair as they were seated like he had done the first time they ate together in public. He glanced up at the ceiling, admiring the blonde wood paneled design of the beams, matching the wood of the chairs they sat in. A beautiful well-lit dining room that was crowded due to its cozy dimensions.

“So this is one of your parent’s favorite spots?”

She nodded, pulling out the menu. “So, your hand is better right?”

“It is.”

“Are you willing to try some of the wine selection?”

Wine had not been one of the alcohols bequeathed to him from Marshall, but he had tasted various few before. “Are you trying to get me drunk tonight?” he joked.

“You’re not the one driving.” She joked back. “But I was thinking about the 2016 Vincent Pinard Sancerre.”

“Well if that’s what the lady wants…how can I say no?”

Something about that phrase stuck with her as she looked over the menu. Was it her imagination or had she heard him say something like that before? Their waiter took their order and sauntered off, leaving them alone in a static-charged moment of silence.

Sitting opposite end from her, Charlie felt a little intimidated by that lovely woman in the scarlet dress, that he noted other men had turned their heads ever so slightly just to catch a glimpse. He cleared his throat and pushed his chair back to her surprise, then took the left catty-corner and scooted his chair back in.

“Sorry, but it think this would be better.” He replied in a hushed tone.

Smiling, she leaned in a little. “I think so too. So now you can tell me all about my game. What weapon did you choose?”

“The quill.” He answered immediately. From then on, he lit up with enthusiasm recalling the route and his character’s decisions. Their meal was served, wine poured, and they bounced back and forth between questions and observations. He gushed over the beauty of the environment, the details of the characters regarding their design and clothing, as well as the upgraded armor for the main character.

“So you figured out how to resurrect the princess.” She swirled the wine around in her glass before taking a sip. “What did you do with the dragon afterwards?”

“I gave him to the queen. I believed he would be happy in her care, with having servants tend to him day and night.”

“And then you married the princess and the credits rolled, right? Happily ever after.”

Charlie grew silent. Sam set her glass down. “Oh. I see…” she wiped her lips with her napkin. “I shouldn’t be too surprised you unlocked the secret ending.”

“I was surprised there was a choice at all, to refuse the marriage. But I had to see what would happen.” He took in a breath and let it go. “I almost half expected some guilt trip or twist that might lead me back around to marrying the princess anyway, but that scene which came afterwards shook me to my core. And I just have to know why you made that path.”

Sam absentmindedly fiddled with her wine glass. “As you probably can figure out…I was just beginning to see the writing on the wall. I was pulling too many hours, missing too many dinners, sleeping too many nights alone…and I had already discussed a tragic ending with my friend Jasmine who was also doing the art rendering. We tossed a few ideas around-I mean, we figured no one would really pick Refuse but we still believed there ought to be a choice just like in everything else.”

He reached out, fingers just lightly touching her hand in a comforting gesture. “I know it’s difficult. I don’t want to bring down the mood, if it’s too hard.”

“No, no you’re right, you have the right to know.” She replied, taking a large swallow of the white wine. “Jasmine ended up creating that whole scene because I had worked myself into exhaustion; I was on a time crunch with other things and rushing to try to meet them all. And it had just been completed, ready for its debut on Indigneer when I found out about the affair. And I collapsed.”

Charlie gingerly squeezed her hand.

“Yeah. I worked myself into apoplexy.” Her eyes turned glossy.

“Samara, we don’t have to discuss that part.”

“I’m fine. It needs to be said.” She told the both of them. It was time to be addressed. “Long story short…I died. Only briefly.” She met his eyes, seeing his shock. “And when I came to it was like I woke up in a new world. My family convinced me that I should get a divorce, and Ben didn’t fight it at all. There was no coming back from that. All my stuff had already been removed and taken back to my parents while I was in the hospital. Jay nearly went to jail for the amount of threats he hurled. And suddenly my life didn’t belong to me anymore.”

“Just when I thought I could look past…no wonder he said he had screwed up bad enough.” Charlie whispered to himself. He felt his grip tighten, but her hand was also squeezing his back.

“It’s alright Charles; this is why I never spoke of it. Everyone automatically gets angry. And how were any of us to know I’d end up in the hospital over it? The divorce was pretty much handled for me-all I had to do was sign some papers. And then before I knew it, I was moved into my dad’s old penthouse apartment and offered the job as General Manager but I declined on that at first. Told my father I had to earn it. No hand-outs.”

“So your flat…that’s your father’s?”

She shrugged. “He’d been considering giving it to Jay actually, as a congratulatory gift at securing his position at the clinic. Jay always did like the place but seeing as I was now back in my old bedroom at home and hating it, I made a point about being able to live there and still being safe. That was actually the home I was brought up in for the first few years, until dad decided it was safer for me to grow up in an actual house, with a yard. But he still kept it.”

Who could blame him? It was a nice penthouse and would be snatched up the moment it was back on the market. What Samuel did with the place for the next two decades was use it to host parties and impress clientele that came from oversees. Not to mention keep it for ‘date night’ with the lovely Mrs. Young.

“I am beginning to see that in the confusion and fast pace of everything, how it would be overlooked of him having a master copy of the game. Everything packed up so quickly and him moving again…his surprise was genuine when he showed it to me.” Charlie concluded.

Their waiter came up, patiently waiting for the right moment to inquire on their needs. Samara immediately responded with an order for their persimmon upside-down cake. Once the man left she turned back to her date. “I think it’s time we move to a happier subject. We can always come back to this another day.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to tell me everything. I seem to find out things pretty well on my own… But I’ll have you know I enjoyed Ruminate so much I gave it a 10 star review, proclaiming how charming and entertaining it was. You slaved over that game and it deserves recognition. I think the only mistake you made was offering it for free. But that’s just me.”

Samara felt a warmth in her chest that pulsed with pride. There had barely been a word from any of her friends, and none from her family about the game-mainly out of fear that it would trigger another episode. All these years, Ruminate sat like a bitter pill in her throat, unable to dislodge it and just barely managing to breathe with it too deep to reach and not far enough to just swallow back down.

Her voice was so low he barely heard her say how much it meant to her. That she didn’t care how he found out, but she was thankful he took the time to play it regardless. He trailed his thumb along her hand. There was one last thing he had to say, tonight.

Their dessert arrived, wine glasses refilled. For a moment, Charlie set the thought in the back of his mind. How was he going to go about it? If he said it here, her reaction could cause a scene… It should at least wait until after they conclude their meal, it could very well be his last one.

The persimmon cake was perfection. The whole meal had been. As they wiped their lips and watched her card be carried away they spoke positively on the food they had consumed. “I can see why this ranks as one of your parent’s favorite places. I will certainly have to give them a review later.”

“And do you know what the best thing about eating here is?” she asked playfully.

“Tell me.”

“We’re just a street away from the beach, we can walk there.”

“Walk?” he echoed as she tugged his sleeve and stood. The waiter returned and handed Samara back her card, she signed the receipt and threw in a generous tip. The card was slipped back into her wallet and joined her inhaler, phone and keys inside her little red clutch. “What about your car?”

“Trust me, after the tip I just left, they’ll keep an eye on her while we’re talking a stroll.” She laughed as he took the lead in order to open the door for her. When they reached the curb Charlie immediately took hold of her wrist before her foot could leave the concrete path.

“Wait.” He suddenly blurted.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want a stroll to sober up just a bit?”

He looked both ways down the street. Cars were sporadically spaced but none seemed going above the speed limit. “I’m just being cautious.” He released her wrist and took her hand, waiting for the right moment and then jogging across the pavement. Just another handful of buildings and suddenly they were there, the west coast in view, darkening sky against a dark sea.

Before he knew it, her heels were off and in her hand and she was sprinting through the sand with glee.

“California girls…” he chuckled, pulling his feet out of his vans and slipping his socks off and stuffing them into the toes of the shoe. He paused, seeing how far she was ahead and how she wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing exactly. He pulled out his phone and pressed the Indigneer message app. Now or never. With the message sent he tucked his phone back into his pocket and followed after her.

He lingered back and watched as she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, holding his breath.

Samara plucked her phone from the little clutch purse and unlocked the screen, seeing a message from Indigneer. Curious as to why she’d be getting a message now of all times, she was tempted to ignore it, but something nagged in her mind about it. She pressed the inbox button and saw three words.

RedDragon: Turn around Samara.

……………………..

Chapter Text

Samara plucked her phone from the little clutch purse and unlocked the screen, seeing a message from Indigneer. Curious as to why she’d be getting a message now of all times, she was tempted to ignore it, but something nagged in her mind about it. She pressed the inbox button and saw three words.

RedDragon: Turn around Samara.

Her breath caught in her throat at seeing those three simple words. Fingers twitching, hand shaking, she closed the screen and shoved her phone back into the little purse and fumbled for her inhaler. A pinch in her chest hit with every breath as she barely was able to grip the little plastic devise. Her mind reeled over and over with every conversation between the two of them. There had been so many little clues, little hints throughout between the two of them. A tiny part of her suspected, but she hadn’t let her hope rise on that.

All she could hear was the slap of the waves of the shore and the wheeze in her chest as she shook the inhaler and brought it to her lips. A spritz of Albuterol and a breath. Another spritz and another breath. Inhale and exhale, in and out. After speaking about her condition brought on by Benjamin’s affair she worried her emotions would get the better of herself. A hand on her chest was little in the way of physically preventing another episode, but it did wonders for her mentally.

Eventually she calmed down enough to set the inhaler back into her purse. She still stood facing the waves, terrified of what awaited her if she turned around. Her prep talk from earlier obliterated, she was a coward. Turning around meant it was real. And when it became real, there was no turning back.

‘Why isn’t he saying anything? Has he left? Is he still there, just waiting for me to act first? What do I do?’

With one hand clutching his shoes, the other clenched in a nervous fist, Charlie just observed from his distance. The moment she looked at her phone, everything else froze. His blood chilled the moment he saw her pull out and use her inhaler, thinking he’d pushed her too far. Closing some of the distance, he’d taken a few steps and stopped when she put it back and straightened her posture. He knew the struggle to face something as daunting as this, she was gathering her courage.

It was beyond tempting to say her name and start spilling everything to her, but right now, he knew she needed a moment of clarity, to decide if she even wanted to hear his voice, his reasoning and excuses. All he could do was wait. Patience was a virtue that he had plenty of, but it was being tested to its full resolve.

The whole time. The entire time. From day one and every word, it had been him. Every little fear she spoke of, secret she shared, promise she made…and then going into the office the following day and seeing him face-to-face, with him knowing everything they had discussed and kept it to himself. And here he was, finally letting it be known. Hadn’t he said earlier, there was still one more thing to tell her?

‘A red dragon…like on the Welsh flag? How obvious! How did I not see that? I thought it was a griffon. God….’

A little chuckle escaped her lips. She brought her hand up to stifle it, but the more she thought on it the funnier it became. Here she was with her own puzzle adventure game to her name and she couldn’t even figure out that her assistant had been her anonymous online acquaintance with THAT obvious clue right there in front of her face.

“Samara, say something. Anything.” He pleaded. The silence from her had gone on too long for comfort. “Call me out for my dishonesty and manipulations. Call me every name in the book if it’ll make you feel better. But for god’s sake please turn around and look at me.”

She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, the secret giggle fit had run its course. She tucked some hair behind her ear and shifted her feet in the soft dry sand, toes digging into the cooler layer as she finally turned around. Charlie stood as still a flagpole, his hair and tie dancing in the breeze. His face held the look of a man awaiting his verdict from a judge.

“I thought it was a griffon.” She said to his bewilderment.

Now it was his turn to contemplate in silence before bursting into a little laugh. “On the flag? No, it’s a dragon. Has that been what kept you from putting it all together?”

“Part of me suspected, but it felt ridiculous to say out loud.”

“I had no idea how to tell you.” He confessed, closing the rest of the space between them until they were a foot apart. “I never expected us to have such conversations, for you to share so much…and I didn’t know what to do with the information I had no right knowing.”

She brushed back the hair that slapped against her face, taking in his words. Inside her maelstromic mind she replayed their interactions and bantering, finding that she was just as guilty as he was. How could she remain angry with him for knowing all about her when it came from her own mouth? If he had not wanted to know and was told regardless, then why bother to bring it up when it was her that was unaware it was him she told it to?

“You were right though.” She replied with those bright doe eyes. “I needed to talk with someone; I needed to step out from the wall I had put up. You weren’t the only one saying it, but considering I didn’t know you, it started to make an impact.”

“I wasn’t trying to pry. I swear.” He declared, placing a hand over his heart. “Every time we spoke I just felt so free to say anything without being judged. I wanted to know the you outside of work. And you continued to fascinate me.” Even in the darkness, lit only by streetlights and stars, she could see that pale face flush.

“I fascinate you?”

“Undeniably.” He answered firmly. “Despite how unprofessional it may be.”

She swished out a breath at that word: unprofessional. Tonight she wanted nothing to do with work and the expectations expected of her due to them. Let Monday come and be professional. Saturday was hers. “You know what else is unprofessional?” she asked, a dangerous glint in her eye.

Oh boy, here it comes. I’m going to be fired.

She leaned in a little. “Running barefoot through the surf.”

She dropped her heels along with the clutch and took off with a squeal, leaving him eating her kicked up sand dust with a slacked jaw.

“This woman…” he chuckled, dropping his shoes by hers and quickly rolling up his pant legs. He slipped his phone and wallet out of his back pocket and tucked them into his shoes as well. Here she goes and plans a formal dinner and then sprints off into the sand without a care? A moment later he had cleared the distance and was stomping through the surf as it splashed and slushed along the bank.

She kicked some of the surf at him, splashing droplets across his chest as he tried to dodge. In return, he also swung his leg through the water and sent a wave her way. She elicited a playful scream as the evening chilled seawater landed on her bare arm, causing onlookers to turn their way for a brief instant before returning to their own business. She twirled around in a circle, just laughing and once again youthful with childish joy, her crimson dress furled out in a fiery dance of silk. She was captivating.

He’d never experienced California like this. It had always been too hot, too bright, too loud. But tonight, even though the city was alive on its busiest night, and they were clearly not the only people on the beach or on the sidewalk or honking their horns and blaring their music as they drove past, it certainly felt that way. Here they were, dressed their finest and playing in the water like children splashing in a mud puddle wearing their Sunday best.

They played their round of tag until he caught her from behind and held her tight, arms wrapped around her chest, her arms suddenly up and holding onto his. An unspoken request passed between them, a silent plea.

Just hold me.

‘How long has it been? Since I just let someone hold me? Felt the warmth of an embrace and wanted it?’ Samara closed her eyes and let herself be enveloped. She’d take it for as long it lasted. Charlie leaned his chin atop her head as he held her. She felt so tiny and delicate, like a doll. He knew she was stronger than she looked, but she’d been having to play strong for so long. At some point, that strength would fail. He could only hope that he could be there to offer his support when she needed it.

“I bet you’ve never had a date like this.” She said wistfully.

“I honestly can say I have not.” He replied.

She let out a sigh. “We should probably go before someone tries to steal our shoes.”

“That would certainly ruin the mood for the rest of the evening.” He quipped, knowing their phones and keys were also tucked away with the footwear. However reluctant they were to part, they eventually did. Although he was not so willing to let her go completely, taking hold of her hand and interlacing their fingers. When she looked up at him he simply let his eyes speak for him.

Samara glanced up at him, meeting piercing blue eyes that promised her security, and if she pulled away that he wouldn’t take her hand unless she offered it. She gave him a tiny smile before they tread through the shallow tide gliding across the sand and marched back to their discarded items. They did break their hold of each other to pick up the shoes and purse, but were somehow magnetically lured back into each other once more as they traced their previous path back to the parking lot of the restaurant and to her safely secured vehicle.

Barefoot and damp from ocean spray they slid into their seats, with her cranking on the heater to blow them dry as she steered back into the Los Angeles evening traffic. He watched how her hands were quick and precise in shifting gears and gliding across the steering wheel as she veered around other cars that simply did not move fast enough for her taste. Then again, being quick mattered or you missed your exit.

“Is watching me drive fascinating as well?” she asked, catching him off guard.

“Oh…uh…just being observant…for research…” he stuttered through the poorly executed response.

“You’re a terrible liar Charles.” She replied with a laugh.

He shrugged, not going to fight that one. He’d always been too honest for his own good. No one trusted him with secrets for he was bound to spill the beans when questioned. “Samara, you’ve cleverly avoided saying anything about our conversing on Indigneer.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “I am a little upset that you did that…but honestly…I’m glad it was you.”

“You are?” he was genuinely shocked.

She released a little laugh. “And here I had actually wanted my online friend to come join us at the bar that Friday. Little did I know…”

He turned his head and rested his mouth against his fist as he looked out of his window. “And I tried so hard to find a suitable reason to not go too…”

A heavy silence followed that statement. They both knew how radically different that whole night, that weekend, and probably this evening would be had it not played out as it had. Despite the pain it brought to the two of them; and to Link as well. But she and him had been on a crash course which only needed that tiny push to nudge them off the cliff they had been lingering on.

If it wasn’t Charlie, it would just be another face and name for Link to take his growing aggression out on.

“So…” she said, and then trailed off with a breath. “What were you thinking when you first messaged me?”

The question weighed on him, for he had been trying to figure that out for a while now. And it got harder to find the answer the more they communicated. Not when he’d found himself enjoying every encounter, and dreaming about her. “I honestly…wasn’t. I never expected you’d respond to my initial comment. All I wanted was for you to know there was someone who believed in you.”

He pretended to not notice her wipe her eye as she smiled to that, continuing to drive back towards his apartment. He turned the heater off, finding it already hard to breathe just sitting with her, speaking on this touchy subject. There was still so much uncertainty in the air. He worried she was having second thoughts, or if she would have second thoughts in the morning. The car pulled into the familiar parking slot, the two of them now sitting in silence, the moment heavy with the “what next” hanging overhead. She turned the key in the ignition, killing the engine.

“Despite that little reveal of yours, I did have a nice time tonight.” She said; eyes and hands fixed on the steering wheel.

“Well I’m glad. I guess this means I still have a job.”

They both shared a laugh at the inside joke.

“Yeah, well I’d have a lot of explaining to do if I fired you for no apparent reason. You’re too damn good at your job and no one has had any complaints with you.”

Finally, she turned her head to look at him.

“Not to mention, you’re too damn cute.”

He smiled, turning just a little pink. Adorable. “You’re quite lovely yourself you know.” He countered. He brought his hand up to her face, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’d love to be able to do this again sometime.” He murmured.

Her eyes closed at the gentle touch, her lips pursed and ready but received nothing in return. It was then that he undid his seat belt and opened his door. “I should be going now.” He said, leaving her with a confused look as she had sworn he was going in for a kiss.

He had slipped out of his seat and began rounding the car when she hastily unbuckled and practically kicked open her door. On her feet she yelled “Charles Jones, come back here!” and slammed the door closed behind her. She watched his shoulders hunch at her voice, his feet stop, and then he turned around and walked up to her.

“Is that it?” she asked, hand pressed against the handle of her door.

He stood before her, thoroughly enjoying the fluster on her face. “I don’t know what you mean, have I not been a gentleman?”

“You know what I mean….” She bit her lip in frustration. Ugh, he was really going to make her ask him? “Would you…like to give me kiss goodnight?”

A sly smile crept upon his lips. “That’s not asking me for a kiss Samara. You know the rule.”

“I don’t play by rules. I make them.” She glared with a playful gleam, daring him.

He stepped that last final foot of distance between them. “If you won’t play by the rules, then what’s to stop me from being a gentleman?”

“Nothing.” She answered.

He leaned in more, his breath on her ear. “Is that what you want?” he trailed his hand down her arm until he met her hand, and interlaced his fingers with hers.

Her eyes were heavy lidded, a shudder running through her as he whispered those words. She wanted to know just what mild mannered Charlie Jones was capable of.

His other hand came up and took hold of her chin, turning her head so she was forced to look up at him. “Then ask me Samara. Just once.” His eyes pierced into hers, making her knees weak. She swallowed the lump in her throat, licked her lips and then ever so quietly asked him. “Please Charlie?”

“Please what?” he teased.

“You smug bastard, would you just kiss me already?”

Satisfied at finally securing the request from her-because he would not have it said that he ever stole a kiss from a lady-he let go of her chin and trailed his fingers down her throat as his lips brushed against hers. At first, gentle as ever, like a butterfly landing on the petals of a rose, a moment later the intensity increased with a tilt of his neck as she parted her lips and teased him with the tip of her tongue, inviting him to delve deeper. He never had before, but he was certainly curious to try. Just slipping it in marginally, until he felt he had given enough, feeling her tongue run along his with their kiss.

The hand entwined with hers came up and pressed against the car, her back flush against the driver side door, curving along its frame as he leaned his body into hers. He brought the hand down from her throat to hold at her hip, pulling her into him so no air passed between their bodies.

Hearing a little wheeze escape her, he pulled back just enough to speak. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, breathless. “Got a little…worked up.” She replied sheepishly. “It happens.”

“I shall keep that in mind.” He promised, coming in to place a kiss on her neck and loving the shiver that followed. “You present me with yet another challenge.”

She brought her arm around and held him tight, his body heat radiating like a furnace against her chest as her back grew cold from the contact with her car. Feeling both blazing and chilled at once, it was the only thing keeping her from letting her spirit leave her body of its own will. She didn’t want to relinquish her hold on him, not when he felt so perfect, as if he were made just for her measurements. She could actually wrap an arm around him unlike with Link, and though his hands were large enough to encompass hers they weren’t bulky, but lean and graceful-just like the rest of him.

“I guess this means I’ve been forgiven?” he inquired, loosening his fingers from her hand. The moment his hand left hers it felt cold and she brought it to rest against his waist, feeling his warmth like a security blanket. His hand came up to move hair that had swept across her glasses.

“If I don’t forgive you…are you going to kiss me until I change my mind?” she whispered with a playful tint.

He took his hand off her hip and pulled his glasses back, setting them on top of his head. Both eyes glistening like crystals, he searched her face for a moment. All he see was everything he’d ever wanted. No judgement, no placating, no deceit. She was looking at HIM. He held her face within both hands.

“I will kiss you every day you allow me to, for no other reason than just to feel you in my arms. To see the light in your eyes and hear the breath you take.” He promised, wiping at her eye with his thumb.

His words caught in her throat, stealing the very breath from her as she tried to gather her senses. “Then I don’t… I don’t forgive you.”

He pulled her in to meet his lips, a purposely slow kiss delivered. Her hands held him softly, as if to match his gentle demonstration of affection. However much they craved for the other, as a bird craves flight after being caged for so long, after the long winter one begins to crave the blossom of flowers and the melting of the snow, right now it wasn’t about hungrily devouring each other like starving wolves. Right now it was about the promise of a new beginning and how terrifying that first step could be. Just holding each other, softly touching, gently kissing, breathing in each other’s scent and learning the other’s reactions.

Completely unaware of their surroundings, or an accidental witness.

...........

Marshall had little Dinah tucked in the crook of his arm, promising Monica that he’d only be a minute and shut the door behind him before trotting over towards the stairwell when he heard the distinct shout “Charles Jones, come back here!” which immediately froze him for a second, before realizing that was Sam’s voice. He rushed over to the stairwell and hopped down a few steps before he caught sight of his blond neighbor and his brunette ex-wife standing by her black Mercedes, him taking hold of her hand and pressing his body against hers, against the car, passionately kissing.

His breath caught in his throat for a second, clearly taken by surprise.

“Oh, just friends?” he smirked, recalling how adamant Charlie had been on that subject. He shared a knowing smile with the dog. “I knew it girl, I totally called it.”

He looked back at them, silently congratulating Charlie for finally making his move. But seeing Sam in a red dress-something she would’ve been too shy to wear during the time she was with him-and holding him like she was…it felt strange. On one hand he was thrilled that she was moving on from him, but then again seeing her like that…he realized he could’ve had that with her had not strayed.

It felt wrong to be here, to see this. There was this tightness in his chest for some reason. He set Dinah down and glanced at his heart monitor, the red light glowing. “What?” he whispered to himself. What was causing this? He was being careful to not push himself, taking it slow since being released as he had been informed. No jump scare games. He tilted his head up at the sky, trying to calm down whatever was going on inside his body.

When he glanced back down he saw Charlie caress her face, holding her gently, their words whispered to each other in the upmost intimacy. He certainly couldn’t come down with the dog now and interrupt. She’d freak out and believe he was purposely trying to ruin whatever she had and he wouldn’t put it past Charlie to actually throw a real punch at him.

He turned his back from the scene, unable to be a bystander to this. He couldn’t pretend that this didn’t hurt in some measure, that he was nothing but a series of bad memories for her. He’d barely escaped her family with his life-and balls-intact and had gone so far as to change his name and acquire a new phone number and pack up. He hadn’t been given a chance to explain himself, not that there was any explanation needed. He had been barred by her family from seeing her in the hospital. He’d stood by helpless as the movers came and packed everything that Mrs. Young pointed at. And just like that, Sam had been whisked out of his life.

His stupid mistake.

And only because he had moved into this apartment complex, only because his new neighbor just so happened to be her assistant, only because they had managed to be there at his collapse was he even here now. He had nearly killed her with his idiocrasy and then she was there to help save his life. But he had no place in her life anymore. She had grown, not just in the passage of years but as a person as well. Here she was, moving on.

Suddenly overwhelmed, hand at his chest, he began to stagger back to the door of his apartment. Dinah trotted on little painted toenails after him, tongue lolling out of her mouth. He fell against the door and opened it, Dinah slipping in between his leg and the door frame. Monica jumped up, seeing Marshall in his state and came to assist him as he struggled. Once on the couch she grabbed hold of her phone but he placed his hand over it.

“No.” he whispered.

“But hon, you’re all worked up. What did you do? You were literally outside for a minute!” She searched his face and saw a terrible sadness in his eyes. “Babe…you have to tell me so I can help.”

Marshall took in several breaths; hand on his chest as he tried to calm himself down. “She’s…in love.”

Monica held her hands out for further explanation. “Who?”

“S-Sam…outside…with Charlie.” He said between hiccups and gasps. Monica got him a bottle of water to quell his hiccup fit. Trying to take a drink at least gave him something to focus on for the moment, although he perspired and shook. Setting the water down he cradled his head in his hands and began to weep. “She’s so happy now…”

Monica rubbed his back. “If she’s happy, then why are you so upset? I thought you said you liked the guy.”

“I do!” he cried out. “He’s great. A better man than I was…”

“Babe, don’t do this to yourself.”

“You didn’t SEE them Kitten.” He exclaimed, pulling his head up from his hands. “It was… it was like a goddamn movie kiss.” He wiped his eyes, unable to wipe the lost look they held. “In all the time we were together we never had a moment like that.”

She bit her lip. What was she supposed to say to this? Marshall was determined to tear himself down with guilt, as if he felt the need to punish himself all over again for their affair. It hadn’t been easy, these past few years. There had been moments when they were close to breaking up; especially right after the divorce was finalized. Knowing Sam had been hospitalized due to them had been a bitter pill. He lost his wife; she lost a good friend…

“Marshall, it’s been years now…you need to let this pain go…you don’t need to hold onto it anymore.” She pulled him back from the edge of the couch and into her arms, where he fell limply and cried. Tears were forming in her eyes now, as she tried to comfort him. He hugged a couch pillow and squeezed it for dear life as years of bottled up memories and regrets flowed out of him.

No one ever said that healing was easy.
……………………

Charlie finally found it within him to detach himself from Samara’s hold and take a long breathy pause; it seemed she was in need of it herself. His neighbor’s lament about not wanting to let go once he had a taste rang true. He could stay out here all night and all day tomorrow lost in her arms if she let him. But they both knew the date had come to an end, and a decision needed to be made.

“As much as I enjoy standing out here in half wet clothing, sharing this moment with you, I think this where we should stop.” He managed to say despite how every word felt like a betrayal.

“I think so too.” She replied with just a little pant in her voice, trying to regain her control. Where was Control? Where had he run off too? Chasing goddamn butterflies and picking up shiny things rather than keeping her from making a mistake tonight.

“It’s not that I don’t want to invite you in…” he trailed off, running his hand nervously through his hair.

“No I get it.” She bobbed her head up and down as she tried smoothing her dress.

“Samara.” He reached out and took her chin in his hand once again. “The only goal I had in mind tonight was just having a nice dinner with you, and finally coming clean with the truth. There was no pretense just to get you into my bed.”

She nibbled her bottom lip as he spoke.

“I wasn’t even sure I’d have a job by this time, let alone…”

“You’ve given me a wonderful night Charles.” She placed her hand on his chest. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. For considering me, even if it’s just for a night.” His finger trailed down her throat and across her collarbone, resting on her shoulder. His palm easily melded around the curve of her shoulder, like she had been crafted just to fit.

Considering him just for a night? Did he believe that this was just a one-time thing? Would they still feel like this if they had a second date? A third or fourth? Would this feeling continue through the rest of the week?

“Would you…?” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you really…another night?” Oh God, I sound like an idiot.

He nodded, his glasses bouncing along the ridge of his nose. “I-I would like that. I want that very much.” He noticed the stutter in his voice and cleared his throat. “I want to give you a reason to smile, every day, even if I’m not by your side.” His other hand picked up hers, turning it outward as he brought her wrist to his lips.

She sucked in a breath, feeling dizzy just from his touch.

“The only thing more incredible than your smile; is when you smile at me.”

“S-staaappp.” She pleaded in a heated whisper, her sense of reasoning nearly depleted. It was a miracle she was still standing-technically leaning against her car-for her knees felt weak. “You say anything else like that…I won’t be able to make it home…”

“I’m sorry.” He replied, gently nipping the tender skin. “Terribly selfish of me, wanting that smile all to myself. I never did learn how to share.”

Samara felt ready to faint.

He continued teething on her inner arm, playing with the golden bangle and listening to her aroused breaths as she fought for composure. Her free hand pulled on his tie, closing that small distance they managed to set between then momentarily.

“I’ll give you something to nibble on.” She purred as she lured his mouth away from her tiny appendage. When he let go of the wrist she curled her finger at him, leading his chin towards her neck. Softly at first, he trailed his teeth across the tender muscles, feeling for just the right spot. Although untested in the physical practice, he certainly was not without the knowledge of what a bite to the neck meant. Or what it did. Just, not too hard.

He secured a tidbit of skin within his teeth, pressing down harder and harder until he heard her raspy hitch of breath and felt her fingers dig into him. Feeling her cling to him, her body beg his for support made him crave for her even more. She was intoxicating. How could this tiny little woman who seemed so unassuming and ordinary at the first glance also be the same woman in a seductive red dress devouring his heart with every touch?

A higher pitch escaped her lips, causing him to let go.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She leaned her forehead against his chest. “No….but I can’t take any more…” Her breath came in quick and hard, fighting for a slower pace. She patted his chest. “You make it hard to stay in control.”

He chuckled. “I could say the same about you.” He cradled the back of her neck as she gained leverage of her breath, steadied her nerves, and straightened her spine. “Forgive my persistence, but you’ve surpassed all my expectations this evening.”

Now it was her turn to blush, her windswept hair a mess, she glasses slightly askew, and now her cheeks so rosy, with those luscious lips in partial open pout, she had never looked sexier. It took every ounce of his self-control to not sweep her up in his arms and carry up the flight of stairs. But he had promised himself, he was going to respect her as she should be treated; not just as his boss, not just as a woman, but for the person she was underneath the skin.

“I’m afraid.” She whispered suddenly, curling into his arms. “I’m afraid that once I leave, once I go home…once I wake up tomorrow…this will only seem like a dream and I’ll be left this sinking feeling that I’ll never have this again.”

A moment of silence passed as her words weighed on him. He felt the exact same way. Would this feeling end with first rays of sunlight? Would whatever spell that had been cast tonight fade into regrets?

“I don’t want to be with anyone but you.” He confessed, stoking her back. She looked up at him. “If you would have me, then I will do everything in my power to make sure you never go without feeling like you aren’t cherished.” He watched the expression shift from fear to embarrassed affection as she considered his words.

She brought a hand to her cheek, feeling the heat rise from within. “Oh my goodness Charles, you sure have a way with words…” she nervously chuckled. “I don’t know if handle much more of your charm.”

“My charm?” he snorted. “My dear little Bunty, you have me. You have had me since day one, I just didn’t realize it. And you’ll still have me, come Monday, whatever you decide.” He brought his hand up to shift his glasses and sweep his hair back despite it always falling back. “If you would just consider me. Think of me in that way, for just a few seconds and tell me I have a chance.”

She brought her hand to her mouth, nibbling on her knuckle. “This isn’t going to be easy.” She stated matter-of-factly. “How we work together…my family…”

“All that matters is what YOU want Samara.” He placed his hand on her cheek. “We’ll figure it out as we go. We’ll find out if we both have what it takes. But only you can tell me to continue this path I’m on, or to step off and stand back. But I’m not going to let my fear lead me tonight. Even if this goes nowhere…I at least had to take that risk.”

“But what if we fight? Break up? It’ll affect how we work-”

“Fire me then.” He answered firmly.

“What?” her eyes wide with a momentary fear that he actually meant it.

“It’s your family company; naturally I’d be the one to leave. And I would. Only at your behest. I know it’s a risk, it’s frowned upon. I DON’T CARE.”

Emotions rising to the surface, her eyes began misting. “Why? Why me?” her voice cracked. “I’m not-”

“Don’t you dare.” he ordered, holding her tightly. “Don’t you dare say it. Not ever. Never in front me. You aren’t the only one who struggles to see…to see what makes you so captivating. And I’ll be damned if I have you start now. You help build me up every day, when I feel like I’m nameless and faceless; you remind me that I am someone important.” His tone took a softer level, lowering to just above a whisper. “If I must, then I will remind you as well. Every day.”

She pushed on his chest, pushing him hard enough to make him step back, giving herself enough space to breathe. Her hand was at her chest, eyes red as she tried to calm down. Charlie knew she needed her inhaler. She stepped aside as he reached for the driver door and opened it, pulling out her purse. “Here.” He said as he handed her the device. “Take a deep breath, please.”

Her hand shook as she inhaled the medicine and relaxed a moment later. “Oh my goodness…I’m a wreck.” She sniffed, wiping her face underneath her glasses. “Look at me; I can’t even handle this conversation without becoming overwhelmed.”

“I am looking Samara.” He took the hand not holding her inhaler and pressed it to his chest. His heart was beating wildly. He let it rest there as she gripped the blue plastic lifesaver with the other and waited.

“There are mornings I wake up hating everything about myself.” She said. “Days where I feel like I can’t possibly live up to the expectations set in front of me. Nights where I feel swallowed up in loneliness.” She turned her head and met that crystalline gaze. “You can’t possibly want to deal with that.”

“Try me.”

“I’m serious!” she shouted, her nails digging into his chest.

“So am I!’ he shouted back. “I can’t stop thinking about you! No other woman turns my head, no matter how aggressive they try. You don’t have to be tall and graceful or athletic or have perfectly manicured nails and long flowing hair! I love you just the way you are!”

Statically charged silence followed that blusterous confession, both of them realizing a certain word had just been said. He could feel her hand shake as she had hold of his tie. His heart felt ready to explode-from his newfound courage or his building desire he couldn’t say.

“Y-you have to realize…I-I’m broken.” She stuttered with shame.

“Then let me glue you back together.”

He pulled her into his arms, this time roughly, passionately, holding her hips and hoisting her up against his body. Her legs immediately wrapped around him for support, her arms cradling his jawline as her teeth devoured his bottom lip, her breath hot and body quivering. “I want you. More than I’ve wanted any woman.”

“Have me then.” She answered. “If you’re so determined, then prove it.” She whispered against his lips as he began walking away from the car, heading towards the stairs. When he reached the first step he shifted her up higher against his body, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against his chest, securing each thigh in his hands as he took the first stair.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Oh Bunty, you’re no burden at all.” He laughed.

She held on as he made the trek, amused and aroused by the display of gentlemanly masculinity. If he could carry her up her own two flights, then what was just one more? Was every weekend going to end up like this? If so, maybe it wouldn’t so bad after all. He kept a steady pace and never faltered, suddenly bringing her to his doorstep. Reluctantly, he set her back down upon her bare feet and dug his key out, ushering them into the dark apartment. Once the door closed behind him he felt a tug on his tie.

He met her body, chest-to-chest, lips-to-lips as his back fell against the wall. He hoisted her up against his hips and felt his way along the hallway towards his bedroom. Out of habit, he closed his door, but tonight he didn’t have to worry about Bowser interrupting anything. Both their glasses came off and were clumsily placed on the nightstand, her clutch purse shucked off her wrist and joining them a moment later. His tie was loosened but left around his neck as she dived into undoing his buttons as he felt along her back for the zipper.

For just the one garment he had to work with, she had already sped through all of his, hands at his belt and sliding his zipper down with ease before he even made it half way down her back. “Good gracious, you work fast.”

“Try to keep up Charles.” She laughed as his pants provided just a little challenge, as they were still dampened by their tromping through the surf and clung to his legs. “You’re gonna have to handle these, they’re plastered onto you.”

They traded off, now tending to their own clothing. Charlie removed his wallet and phone, tossing them along with everything else on the stand, knocking something over but not caring what. He stepped out of his shoes, rolled off the socks and slid his pants down, leaving only his tight pair of briefs on out of modesty, despite the darkness. Samara had expertly slipped her dress off her shoulders and let it hit the floor. It surprised him that she was not wearing a bra.

He was about the remove his tie when her hand curled around it and pulled him close. “I think I like having this on you.” She teased. “A little leash to keep you in check.”

“Oh so you do think of me as puppy then?”

A surprised whoosh of air left her as she recalled that day at the clinic. “I never said that!”

“No, but you still petted me.” He smiled with a teasing gleam. He wrapped his arms around her hips and gripped her just so she couldn’t wriggle away.

“You remember that? I thought you were just loopy from the medication!” her other hand was at her face as if to hide from the humiliation she was feeling.

He leaned in close and nuzzled her ear. “I remember. And I wasn’t entirely loopy…”

“Oh you little son of-”

He silenced her with a kiss, rough and hungry, that she equally matched. He pushed her against the soft comforter of his bed, leaning his body into her, the bare skin of their chests meeting in heated collision. My goodness, these things are soft….

When they broke the kiss she held onto his biceps, reveling in the firm muscle under her fingertips. He was strong, and yet so lean. He had that surprising strength hidden under that shy exterior and baggy hoodie he first presented himself with. What a transformation from then!

“Samara…I should tell you…I’ve never done this before.”

“I know.” She answered coolly.

“You what? How?”

She laughed, loving that finally she had a moment to turn the table on him. “Oh please, you’re not the only one here able to figure out some secrets…” she replied coyly. She took one of his hands and brought it rest upon a breast, watching his eyes widen from her direct initiation.

“And…that doesn’t bother you?” he asked, just ever so slightly rolling his thumb across the soft mound.

“You set your mind on having me Charles, despite every reason why you should just turn around and leave. And though it boggles me as to why, I’m honored.” She pressed her hand over his, guiding it as he moved to tease the nipple. “I know you’ll be careful with me, not just because of that, but knowing how easily worked up I can get.”

He no longer needed her hand to guide him; he began moving it on his own, brave enough to take that step. He brought his other hand up to caress the second one, watching her close her eyes and part her mouth as he touched this growing sensitive part of her. “You must tell me once you’ve reached your threshold.”

“You’re already quite astute…at noticing that.” She replied; gripping his shoulders as his touch became firmer, pinching the pink centers. “Ahh!”

‘Oh what a lovely sound’ he thought, taking the pert button of flesh within his mouth, delicately rolling his teeth across it, listening to more little mewls and gasps from her. Fascinating, this discovery of not just the female body, but of her.

Once he decided she’d had all could take of him-his teeth, his lips, his tongue, and his hands-on her breasts he trailed feather light kisses down her stomach, feeling her flinch in ticklish response. He slipped the tie over his neck and tossed it along the bed as he worked his way down her pelvis and began to delicately slip off her panties. She got to her feet to his surprise, and had him sit on the edge of his bed. She then started easing his briefs off.

“Now I’m not the best at this mind you, I have to hold my breath to do so.” She said as she attentively touched his manhood.

“Y-you don’t have to do thaaaaaaaa....” he trailed off into a hitched breath as he felt her tongue run along his shaft. Oh holy god…

“Just relax.” She giggled as she ran her hand along the length of him. “You’re so tense.” She worked the tip of him with her tongue, delighted that she was at least doing well enough to please his untested body. Even if she messed up in some small measure he wouldn’t know or hold it against her. Granted, being married opened her up to exploring what she could do with her body, but she wasn’t ready for everything Benjamin wanted to do, it was a slow and steady journey.

She took a breath and took him into her mouth, working her way back and forth while massaging his testicles in one hand, holding onto his shaft with the other. It was a delicate balance of holding her breath long enough and pleasuring him at the same time, when she would pause to collect air she would let her hands work him.

He grasped the bedding with a white knuckled grip as she destroyed any sense of composure he had left. She was an absolute executioner, her mouth and hands weapons he couldn’t fight against, not as she teased his most sensitive part into frenzy. She was better with her hands, one at the head, the other on the shaft and somehow knew just how to handle him like a joystick.

“Oh god, Samara…I’m…”

“I know.” She replied, continuing.

“No I mean it!” he shouted just a second before he came, shooting out a string of pearls across her chest. He panted and pulled the comforter over himself. “Forgive me; I didn’t think it would be so…much.”

She simply smiled with a little chuckle. “That was supposed to happen.” She scooted closer to the bed, still on her knees. “Are you alright?” her hand rested on his knee as she implored his eyes.

“Y-yes…I’m alright.” He nervously answered. “I didn’t expect you to do that.”

“Well, I’ve had a little practice.” She flashed him a flirtatious smile. “Have I already worn you out?”

“I beg your pardon?” he countered in mockery. “That sounds like a challenge.”

She slowly rose to her feet. “It is, as soon as I rinse off.” She took hold of his chin and planted a little kiss on him. “Think you can wait that long?”

“You better hurry then.” He teased back, watching the view as she turned and headed towards his door and through the hall. He heard her turn on the water at the bathroom faucet and pull a towel off the bar to dry herself. In the meantime he reached for his wallet and retrieved the little foil square. He froze entirely when she walked back into the room, in all her naked glory, illuminated only by the artificial lights of the city cascading across his window.

She said nothing as she approached him, hands holding his jaw as she kissed him fiercely, making him drop whatever he had in his hands and bringing them up to hold her as she climbed the bed and straddled him. “Tell me something…” she whispered in between kisses.

“Anything. What?”

“Tell me what happened when you took me home.”

He groaned. “This again?”

Her hands held his face firmly, making him look at her. “I need to know.”

“When you look at me like that…god, how can I say no?” he sighed. He arms drew circles across her back. “I put you to bed, we were…well, flirting like we had been…and then the next thing, we were kissing.”

“So I wasn’t just dreaming that…” she sheepishly smiled, trailing her finger across his collarbone.

“Seeing as you barely remembered the night clearly, I’m glad I put a stop to it quick.” Her fingertip gently graced his bottom lip. He kissed it, eyes fixed on her. “I could not bring myself to take advantage of you like that, but you made it difficult for me to resist you completely. So I did in fact, deceive you with our first kiss.”

“You were a perfect gentleman; you couldn’t have been given a more aptly fitting name.”

Her words startled him. “What?”

She laughed; a cheerful merry sound that gripped his heart. “I love when I can pull one on you.” She swept back the hair that hung over his eye. “Your name Charles, means gentleman. And I have never met someone so befitting of their name.” she gazed into those pale blue irises. How lost she could find herself in them… “I wish I had met you sooner…” she thought out loud. Then she brought a hand to her mouth.

But Charles heard it. He pulled her hand away. “I wish I had met you sooner too, so you wouldn’t have gone through all that you did. I would’ve never broken your heart if you were mine.”

“Stop that.” She pleaded with a whisper.

“Never.” He refused with a smile, pulling her against him. She was so incredibly soft, that perfect cuddling size. He never wanted to let go. His hands felt shaky, far more so than that day in her closet, eyes squeezed shut and blindly trying to help her out of her shirt….oh how tempted he had been…and she tempted him then, so close…She had wanted him, but she was far too hurt, not just physically but emotionally. It wouldn’t have been right.

She laid delicate kisses upon his throat, nipping at him like he had done to her. Her hands gripped at his back, nails digging into him just a little. Funny how when pain was delivered now…that it wasn’t nearly as painful…but actually more…arousing? If was doing it to him…would that mean she’d like it in return?

“Samara?”

“Mmmmm?” she continued teething on his collarbone, feeling him shiver.

“Ahhh, darling…I wonder…ahhh…”

Samara chuckled and fell against his chest. “Can’t think clearly?”

“Apparently not.” He took a breath. “Am I liberty to do you what you do to me?” he finally managed to say in one cohesive sentence.

She sat up and mischievously bared her teeth in the most dangerous smile he’d ever seen grace her face. The next thing he knew he was pushed onto his back, with her removing the bit of blanket that rested in his lap. Taken by surprise by her assertiveness yet also incredibly turned on by it, he couldn’t hide his arousal. She brought her hand down, suddenly feeling the little square package.

“Planning ahead?” she smirked, tearing it open. “You weren’t the only one.” She scooted just so in his lap to tease his quivering member against her sex and watched his eyes roll back. “You’re not going to hurt me.” She reassured him, sliding the latex sheath over it, securing it at the base. She then took hold of one arm and brought his hand to rest at her waist. “Whatever you want to do, go ahead.”

Encouraged by her statement, he brought his other hand up to hold at her hip as she slid onto him, taking him in. She sucked in a breath as she did, as she always did, just a natural reaction. Taking in a new lover always was met with some apprehension, two new bodies joining in one. He was a perfect fit, filling her just enough. A ripple coursed down her spine as she moved, feeling his hands grip into her flesh tight enough that she’d be sure there would be marks come morning.

“Move with me.” She commanded in a husky breath, hands clawing against his abs. He matched her pace, riding the wave she created. Again and again, they moved as one, one wave. She arched her back, having him hold her up as she raised her arms, then laid her body against his, hands threaded into his hair, lips seeking his.

A moment later he rolled over, pinning her to her back. She let out a gasp as his weight came down, but he immediately lifted himself off her chest. “All right?” he asked, slowing his movements. She nodded, taking in a deep breath. She tightened her hold on his hair, a growl in her throat. “Don’t you dare stop.” Her hoarse voiced rasped. He had absolutely no intention. He drove into her with vigor, each thrust matched with an unashamed lustful cry. One hand grasped hold of hers, fingers entwined. The nails from her other hand dug into his back, releasing trails of fire along his skin.

Her breath hitched higher in pitch, a wheeze escaping with each exhale. She was nearing her limit. He could feel it rattle against his ribs as she sucked in another drought. “Samar-”

“No.” she panted. “Not yet.”

Concerned over the increasing rasp and hiss he hastened his plunge into her until they both reached their climax, expending their final wave as it crashed into euphoria, leaving them shuddering and sweating, her arm falling limply to her side as she closed her eyes and breathed shallowly. He glanced over to the nightstand, searching for the red clutch and not immediately seeing it.

He disengaged his body from hers and leaned down, finding it on the floor. In a moment, he had it unzipped and the inhaler pressed into her hand. “Samara, quickly now.” He urged, helping her sit upright. With a weary shake and short breath she took in the first puff, following several gasps of air and another shot of Albuterol. The effect was immediate, the wheeze subsiding, the color in her face returning to normal. He watched carefully, observing this transformation to note for the future.

“You promised.” He said flatly. “You promised you’d tell me.”

She could hear the hurt in his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to…”

“To what? To watch you turn blue in my arms?”

“I didn’t want you to think you were to blame, and feel like you had to hold back.” She glanced off to the side. “Your first time should be special too.”

“Of course it’s special, when I’m sharing it with the woman I chose.” He brought his hand up to her cheek. “But don’t put yourself at risk for my comfort. Never let your fear of my opinion of your condition cause you to do this again.” His tone was serious, laden with barely contained agitation. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek.

“Okay…I promise.” She laid herself against his chest and sighed.

‘I have to keep reminding myself, he isn’t like Link. But he has every reason to be concerned; It could turn serious if I get too worked up.’

She felt his hand come up and cradle the back of her head, fingers parting through her hair. His other hand softly brushed against her back, soothingly, comforting, easing the constriction her heavy breathing had put her through.

“Please stay.” He whispered softly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you trying to head home after going through that.”

She released a little laugh. “You just don’t want me to go, don’t lie.”

“Oh you’re quite right; I don’t want you to go. I want to keep you all to myself.” He continued to stroke her back, almost hearing a purr emit from her. “I want to wake up next to that beautiful face, to be the first thing you see, and know that your smile is just for me. Is that too much to ask?”

“You haven’t asked me for anything.” She drawled, exhaustion clearly seeping through her voice. “Dee said…that was a good answer.”

He wasn’t sure exactly what her train of thought was, but it pleased him to hear that he had her friend Dee on his side. His hand stopped, feeling that he had calmed her sufficiently. It terrified him, this looming hourglass with only so much sand in it, each grain representing a second in time, a breath in the lungs, a moment with a loved one before it could suddenly end. It made sense to him now, why her family was so overprotective, why Link had been so protective, because he now had taken that burden into his heart.

“Are you alright now?” he asked. He felt her arms snake around him, securing him in her embrace. Even though she had caused him to worry about her, she still made him feel that he was her priority. She wanted him to feel just as cared for in return.

“I’m fine now.” She replied; content and warmed by his gesture. “I’m sorry.”

“No apologizing.” He ordered.

She pulled back from the embrace. “You’re awfully bossy when you care.”

Leaning into her personal space he smiled. “Good. Maybe it’ll sink in.” he tapped her forehead. “I’ll be but a moment. Behave until then.” He slid off the bed and out of the room, destination: bathroom. Discarding the condom and washing up, returning to the bedroom to find her laying with her head on a pillow, blanket pulled around her, eyes set on him.

He pulled back the comforter and scooted in beside her, his small bed not giving them much room away from each other. Not that he wanted any space away from her. Once on his back, she leaned against his chest, arm resting across his ribs, hand over his heart. His arm came up and leaned against the headboard.

“Your room is far more cozy.” She stated, drawing little circles on his chest.

“It’s only cozy because you’re here. Otherwise it’s just a regular bachelor’s flat.”

“Were you able to sleep at my place?”

He crossed his arm over and took hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips. “It wasn’t easy at first, but I managed. Imagine my surprise, waking up to having you wrapped around me.”

She yawned. “Was I?”

“Yes Bunty. Your subconscious made it clear I wasn’t getting away so easily.” He chuckled. “Not that I would have wanted to.”

“Ahh.” She let out a long breath, her energy depleted. “Why did you leave? At the hospital?”

He set his jaw. “Ah, that.” He wondered when that would be brought up. “I was behaving cowardly, believing for once that I was making the right decision by not getting involved. I already knew what I felt for you.”

“You certainly were no coward today.” She remarked.

He smiled. “Yeah? What surprised you the most?”

“I can practically hear your ego growing.” She mused. “If I say anything you’ll just inflate even more.”

“Oh come on. You can’t leave it like that.”

She yawned again. “Watch me.”

“Oh you cruel mistress. Being all cute and sleepy like that.” He glanced down at her nearly unconscious form, snuggled against him. For a moment he felt the world stop, there was nothing and no one else that mattered outside of the cozy bedroom. He gently swept some hair away from her face, admiring her for a moment before shifting himself down a bit and turning to his side, his back towards her. Her arm slunk back around him, her face buried into his back once again. The last thing he remembered doing was taking hold of her hand, filling the space between her fingers with his own.
………………………………

Chapter Text

Sam's first instinct was to run. Fling off the comforter, slip on the discarded evening dress and dash barefoot down three flights of stairs to her car and burn rubber. Years of conditioning had made her nauseous to the idea of waking up beside her lover, to deal with that lingering euphoria from the previous night, to deal with emotions she wanted no business with. Nights with Link that had turned into mornings turned their casual distance into an emotional bond neither could properly handle. She didn't want to repeat that mistake.

But would be understand?

She felt lips on her neck, fingers brushing along her shoulder, his chest pressing against her back. "Awake a few minutes and already so tense." He murmured as he nuzzled against her.

"Just thinking." She replied.

"Oh?" He inquired. "What about?" He tickled her ear, causing her to flinch. "Sorry. Am I not allowed?"

She pulled away and sat up, still keeping her back to him. The comforter was gripped in her hand, a shield upon her chest. Her face scrunched with distress as she fought her flight response. "It's not you Charles; I'm just trying to figure this out."

He scooted closer to her, once again closing the space between them until there was none. His arm came around her waist, resting against her stomach. That little gesture brought her to stiffen up for a second, before placing her hand on top of his. "You want to leave, don't you?"

She hung her head back. "Am I that transparent?"

"I've been told I'm quite observant." He joked lightly, resting his head against the back of her neck. "I didn't plan for last night to go the way it did. I imagine you have a lot on your mind. There's...much to consider."

"I don't want to leave." She declared suddenly. "I'm just...I'm just trying to tell my body that."

Charlie immediately understood that flight-or-fight response, especially when faced with a situation like this. "So, shall I convince your body to stay?" He purred with mischief.

"If you had a tail, I can practically hear it thumping with glee." She let out a little laugh.

"If I had a tail, it'd be coiled around your legs, preventing you from dashing off." His hand slid across her stomach and trailed along her thigh. He dared to nibble her earlobe, just adding incentive for her to remain with him.

"Or maybe..." He paused his sentence, reaching for the discarded necktie surprisingly still atop of the covers and held it up in front of her face. "I might have to get a little creative..."

She released a gasp and finally turned around to face him. "Are you-?"

"Just because I haven't before doesn't mean I haven't thought about it." His sly grin was enough to bring goose bumps to her arms. He spun the black silky strip, watching the flush bloom on her cheeks.

"Oh you're wicked." She laughed, pushing His chest playfully. He took the opportunity to catch her wrist and slide the necktie loop over it, pulling the tail so the loop closed in. Her jaw slackened at his audacity but didn't fight it.

"You're mine now princess." He lulled seductively, pulling her wrist down while taking her chin with his other hand. Their lips were merely an inch apart now. "I mean it." He added seriously.

"It won't be so easy you know." She warned. "It may not be worth it."

"We'll only know that if we try." He countered. "And I don't give up so easily Bunty. So put me to the test." He claimed her lips fiercely, possessively, determined to persuade her.

And test him she did.
…………………………

Coated in a sheen of sweat, wrists still bound together but clutching her inhaler, Sam panted for breath as she lay on her back, Charlie resting right beside her. He made sure this time, her inhaler was literally in hand, and that he didn’t push her too far. Rolling over to check on her, he smiled with the joy of how at ease they already were. With ever growing confidence, he had quickly taken to giving into his desires, surprised that that she was even comfortable with it.

“I suppose now that I’ve had my way, it would be the proper thing to release you.” He chuckled, taking hold of her bound wrists. She rolled over to face him and offered them up. With ease, he undid the little simple knot and the tie fell like a big black ribbon to the wayside. “There you are, free at last.”

“What a strange host you are…” she laughed, “Unless this is some obscure welsh custom I’m unaware of.”

He laughed in his throat as he brought her flush against his body once more, kissing her forehead. She flicked his hair out of her eye when he lowered his head and nuzzled her. They spent several minutes enveloped in each other, as if they hadn’t even gone another round of lovemaking, with gentle kisses and little whispers of breath shared between them. Every touch lingered, every sigh exclaimed more in that one sound than an entire declaration of words, and every glance became a bond neither wanted to break.

“We can’t stay like this forever you know.” She said, trailing her fingers down his throat. “However convincing you think you are…”

“I will gladly prepare breakfast while you get dressed.”

“Would you mind if I borrowed something? I really don’t want to put that dress back on-”

Just then his phone rang, cutting her off. He reluctantly let her go and reached for his device as she slid off the bed and sauntered over to his closet. He watched out of the corner of his eye as he brought the cell to his ear, hearing his landlady’s voice. Sam pulled out a large navy blue hoodie of his and slid her little frame into it, enticing his newly awakened urges all over again.

He turned his head to quell the rising lust within his mind and assured Ms. Whipple he’d be down in a moment to collect his dog. Sam began looking around the room for her runaway panties, coming up empty. He disconnected the call and cleared his throat.

“I never thought I’d find you as appealing in a simple hoodie like I did with your evening attire.”

“Flattering me again Red Dragon?” she joked as she began lifting up parts of the twisted and flopped over comforter.

“As always my dear Ariadne.” He hopped off the bed and opened up his dresser, pulling out a pair of briefs, and slid them on.

“Jesus Christ, where are they?” she asked out loud, furiously shaking the blanket. She looked up at him. “This is ridiculous, they’re gone.”

“I assure you, I did not keep them as a souvenir.” He turned around and grabbed a second pair and tossed them across the bedding. “Here, just use these for now. I need to go retrieve Bowser before Ms. Whipple just asks for adoption papers.”

Sam took the offered briefs and stepped into them. There was just something about men’s clothing-and underwear-that was just more comfortable. Given that he was lean, he wasn’t all that much wider in the hips than her. The briefs were loose enough so she wasn’t constricted in her most tender area. Not bad actually.

“I could get used to something like this.” She mused, watching his smile widen. “Ah ah ah, no more thoughts like that from you.” She ordered, pointing a finger at him. “I just need something to put on so I can go get my shoes.” She strolled around the bed and was about to pass him when he grabbed her arm and held it firmly.

“If you think I’m allowing you to walk down to your car dressed like that then you’ve flown over the cuckoo’s nest.” He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms securely around her. She looked up at him in surprise at first before it turned into a heavy feeling in her chest, something that she had only joked about but was now seeing firsthand.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous? It’s not like I’m showing off anything.”

His eyes harden with seriousness. “I am not comfortable with any man seeing you like this, so yes, permit me some natural jealously. I will retrieve your shoes for you. As long as you promise to stay inside.”

There was a nagging in the back of her mind, the confrontation with Link still all too fresh. But he had been there for that, had seen just how well she took to being told what to do by any given man. She simply did not take it. “Charles.”

“I’m serious! You’re half dressed, you do not know this neighborhood, and you would present yourself an all too easy target by traipsing around barefoot.”

She took his concern to heart. “Alright Charles, you made your point.”

He planted a kiss to her forehead and released his hold. He didn’t like having to take that tone with her, come down on her like he had, but it was the only way to make her see his point. He turned to the nightstand and plucked her keys from the open clutch purse on the tabletop.

“Thank you Samara, I’ll try not to tally too long with Ms. Whipple.”

He left her standing in his bedroom after quickly yanking on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to settle her nerves. He’d been absolutely correct. Every word of it. She just had to tell herself that he meant well, and it wasn’t just some stupid manly display of dominance. It was just one of many things that they’d have to take in stride if they were going to make this work. Shaking off the minor unsettlement, she took to her knees and looked under his bed for her missing underwear.

“Ah ha!” she cried upon spotting them, having fallen from the night before and ended up kicked aside. A curious looking shoebox with cut straps of duct tape caught her eye as she reached for the under garment. She grazed the box as she clutched her panties and let curiosity take the reins. She flicked the lid up and found a plethora of condoms and quickly shut the lid and pushed it back in place, feeling her ears burn from embarrassment.

  FLAVORED?

“Well at least he’s prepared….” She mused to herself.
……………………..

Charlie quickly dashed down the three flights all the way to Ms. Whipple’s door, meeting her as she opened it, Bowser on his leash and extremely happy and vocal to see his daddy. As he yipped and jumped and yanked on Charlie’s pants Ms. Whipple eyed the young man with the wise old eyes of someone who has been around to see a few things.

“I hope you had a nice evening with your lady friend.” She cooed, watching her tenants’ face brighten. “I bet she’s a nice girl if you’ve spent all evening AND morning with her.” She winked.

Charlie felt his ears burn.

“Well, don’t keep her waiting.” She shot him a sly smile. Once the leash was in hand he turned to the parking lot and headed straight for her Mercedes, unlocked it and grabbed her pair of sand coated red pumps. He locked the vehicle and was hiking back up the stairwell when he met with Marshall at the landing.

“No offense dude, but red isn’t your color.” He said, carrying Dinah in one arm, until she saw Bowser and wanted to interact. He set her down before she could flail out of his hold. The dogs met as the two men looked each other down.

“Red is plenty my color. Looks good on her too I must say.” He replied, glancing at the shoes.

“I didn’t expect you to start putting your care package to use so soon, I hope you went easy on her.” Marshall turned his head away, glancing down at her car, still sitting in the same spot. “You better make her happy.”

“I certainly plan to.”

Marshall looked back at him. “I’m happy for her. I really am.” Despite his words, his face clouded over. “I just regret not being able to be the one that could make that happen.” He squatted down and picked Dinah up and looked Charlie in the eye. “Don’t fuck it up like I did. Ok? Just…don’t.”

“I’m not letting her go.”

Marshall’s eyes turned glossy at those words and swallowed a hard lump in his throat. There was nothing else he could do or say, not when he had spent all the previous night releasing years’ worth of locked away feelings and regrets, with Monica’s mantra of telling him to let the pain go ringing in his ears over and over. Not when they both heard the frenzied lovemaking between the two of them, knowing they had seen the signs and thought they were prepared for the two coming together.

It had been almost too much to take, but he persevered through the pain.

The men went their separate ways, Marshall continuing down the stairs to take Dinah for her walk, and Charlie heading up to his apartment. He opened the door and let Bowser run, first yipping in joy and then going into investigation mode, sniffing out his guest. The dog’s excitement could not be contained so easily, practically leaping into her arms and licking her face as his way of greeting.

Charlie entered the foyer and came up behind her, sweeping her into a soft hug with a kiss to her neck. “You welsh boys are entirely too passionate.” She laughed, caught between the pair.

“So, who is the better cuddler now?” he asked in a breathy whisper to her ear.

“I still stand by my original answer.” She teased back; just to get a rise out of him. She heard his displeased intake of air before a light chuckle, and suddenly felt her knees giving way to his swooping arm. She clutched onto the dog as she was lifted off the floor entirely and carried into the living room.

“Now you’ve wounded my pride missy.” He informed her as he took a seat on the couch, still holding her securely. Bowser wriggled free, only to stomp around on the both of them before leaping off the cushiony furniture and bee-lining straight to his food bowl. “And you should be aware that dragons are prideful creatures.”

“Oh so now I’m in for it.”

“Indeed you are, unless you concede right now.” He took hold of both wrists, one secured in each hand, as he leaned in against her neck. Ever so carefully he dragged his teeth against the soft skin. “Unless you want to become the next sacrifice.”

She curled in at the delicate touch with a light giggle. “I think the only one here that was sacrifice material is you.”

The nibbling turned into suckling, him releasing one wrist to hold onto her neck and tilt her ever so slightly. A pleasured gasp of breath escaped her as her free hand reached up and raked through his hair. “Course…no one ever said the dragon couldn’t be a gift to the princess.” She whispered between breaths.

He ended it with a sharp bite, causing her to cry out and grip his hair tightly. “Apologies, I got carried away.” He replied sheepishly, fingers tracing over the mark he left. “I do believe you’re going to be more selective with your wardrobe come Monday.”

She smacked his chest. “You’re gonna have to more careful Charlie! Something like that is a dead giveaway!”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “So you’re saying…leave them where they can’t be seen?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh no you don’t. You promised to make me breakfast, not make ME your breakfast!”

They shared a laugh before he finally released her and helped her to her feet, before getting to his own. He led the way into the kitchen and after a brief glance of his food supply, managed to conjure up an idea worthy enough to be brunch, for the hours had begun to pass by. The kitchen, already a small space for a single person, had become an elbow nudging, butt bumping corridor as they worked and moved around each other.

It immediately reminded Sam of her early days with Benjamin, how cramped their dorm was. But they were both young and full of ambitions, with schedules to keep up with and looked at everything with optimistic rose tinted glasses. She smiled to herself, recalling the fond memory as she was now living that moment again with someone else. And everything was different.

“It’s been years since I’ve even cooked with someone.” She said suddenly as she held the two plates in her hands. Charlie turned around and gently took them from her, set them on the counter and covered her hands with his own.

“It’s actually been a few years for myself as well. I used to bake with my grandmother quite often.” He kissed her knuckle. “If this is making you uncomfortable, you only have to say.”

“No, it isn’t.” she insisted. “I have to stop looking back on everything in black and white. I know I was happy with him back then… and I’m just trying to tell myself it’s ok to feel that way again.” Her face turned redder with every word. “Oh gosh, I’m just being all melodramatic again and you don’t need to hear all this.” She tried pulling out of his hands, but he had that strong-yet-gentle grip on them.

“Yes I do.” He replied. “I need to know how you feel, what you feel, and what I can do to make sure you either don’t go through it again, or wish to. I made a promise that I wasn’t going to hurt you. I intend to keep it.”

“You can’t promise you’ll never hurt me. Life just doesn’t work that way. There’s going to be something…” she stated pragmatically. “But we should eat first, before anything else.”

“Yes, food first.” He agreed, releasing her hands and serving their brunch upon the plates. Seeing as he only had one bar stool, they took their plates to the living room and sat back down on the couch. “Sorry about this, I’ve never even had company over until recently.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You have what you need, for you.” She replied, taking a bite. “I’m the heathen that eats pizza barehanded, remember?”

“I’ll look at getting another stool at least, might take me some time before I can find a decent dining table.”

She cocked her head at him. “Charles, I’m not moving in. You don’t have to change your entire apartment to suit me. This works fine.”

Blowing out an exasperated breath, he leaned his head against the back of the couch. “I wish I had that kind of attitude. Perhaps it was all due to my grandfather teaching me how I should treat a woman, but it still is something that I want to have.”

“If you like, I can help you pick a suitable table.” She offered, patting his leg.

“I know what that means.” He laughed. “That means you’re going to do it whether I am a willing participate or not.”

“You catch on quick.” She took a few more bites. “You said your grandfather…wasn’t your dad around?”

“Ah, no actually…” he answered in a higher octave. He cleared his throat and took a breath. “I actually…never knew him.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.” She exclaimed, setting her empty plate on the coffee table.

He set his plate upon hers and turned to face her. “You didn’t pry. It was bound to come up. I just happen to be the product of a night with a lapse in judgment.”

“Oh.” She reacted with mild surprise. Hearing that actually made sense. Hence the condom stash box, he didn’t want to end up putting another woman in the situation his mother went through. “I bet that was rough.”

“There were times, yes.”

She noticed how he brought his hands together and placed them between his knees, a clear sign she herself was aware of doing when anxious. She leaned on his arm, sliding her hand down to meet his clasped hands. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I appreciate that. It’s not a subject I often find myself speaking of. And there really isn’t much to say.”

“It still impacted you.” She reached up and took hold of his chin. “Our upbringings may be vastly different, but deep down we both know what it’s like to be singled out, for whatever reason, and have those things used against us.” She swept his hair aside. “I’m sorry for using the B word on Friday, and last night.”

“I told you, I took that as a compliment, because I knew you meant it as such.” He brought his hand up, finger tracing along the side of her face. “You keep being sweet like that; I will fall even harder for you.”

“The same goes for you too. How is it that you’ve gone so long without being with someone?”

“It wasn’t from lack of trying. Girls always say they want a sensitive man, and then when faced with one…apparently it didn’t meet the romanticized version they assumed. And that only made me even more nervous to try.”

She traced the shape of his chin. “You weren’t always nervous…you had moments where you made your intentions clear.”

“Yeah?” he inquired with unrestrained interest. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap once again. “Like this?”

“You startled me, that day you gave me your shirt.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t even trying. That was just pure reflex. It did not dawn on me to offer my spare shirt up first.”

“I could tell; you looked absolutely terrified once you realized it. I actually thought that kind of cute.” She confessed, watching that familiar blush come to the surface. “Ah, there it is again.” She teased, poking his cheek.

“God you know to get under my skin.” He admitted, covering his mouth with one hand. “You really do.”

“Oh? Am I making you nervous?” she chuckled with devilish delight, tickling his neck with little pokes.

“Stop it.”

“Make m-” He quickly covered her mouth with his hand.

“Trust me love, that’s not a sentence you want to finish.” His tone deepened; his eyes intense. Samara felt weakened to her core, tempted to see where she could push him.

“T-that’s probably best.” She stumbled over her words once his hand moved away. “I’d like to be able to walk when I get ready to go.”

“Walking is optional.”

“Charles!”

He bellowed with laughter at her high pitched exclamation, entirely joking with her. If they managed to end up back in his bed they knew it’d be impossible to leave. It was already becoming quite apparent that it was hard enough to keep their hands to themselves. How new, this feeling was. True happiness. Delicious and addictive, it left them craving more.

They sat for a while, enjoying each other’s presence and nothing more. “Is every Sunday going to feel like this?” he asked, fingers enlaced with hers, head leaning against hers, their feet kicked up on the coffee table.

“Like what?”

“Foreboding.” He answered.

“Only at first…eventually, everything will settle into normalcy.” She replied softly. She knew exactly how he felt. She felt it too. It was bone-chilling, how this emotion had returned, how it lurked right over her shoulder, practically feeling the drool dripping down its fangs and its hot smelly breath. The trepidation of her upcoming departure weighed heavily as much as their silent ride home from work Friday.

It was afternoon now, and though Sunday was often nicknamed the day of rest it was anything but. Preparations for Monday needed to be set. Plants watered at the very least, not to mention changing into some of her own clothing, selecting what to wear tomorrow given that she needed to conceal her neck from view. The longer she tallied, the more she would delude herself into thinking she was already in love. It was too soon for that.

“I should go.” She sighed.

“I know.” He responded with one of his own. “Now I know why fairytales end with the sunset…no one ever wants to discuss what happens the morning after.”
………………….

Sam’s dress had not recovered well from her traipsing through the salty waves and laid discarded on a floor all evening, it retained damp patches and salt crust-not at all appealing to rewear even for a short trek home. Charlie minded not one bit, letting her borrow the large hoodie-and his briefs-for her to cover herself with in order to make it to her car. He had offered for her to try on any of his pants, but honestly the underwear was barely enough, if she took a pair of pants she’d need a belt too.

“I might as well be wearing your cologne as well.” She joked, until she realized that she already was. Her face flushed as she shoved her feet into her wiped down pumps, glad to be wearing SOMETHING of her own. The clothing had been placed in a plastic shopping bag for her to take home and wash. She had gathered her few belongings from his bedroom as he hooked Bowser on the leash again.

“Have everything?” he asked, loving the combination of heels and a hoodie on his lady. She shifted her glasses into place and ran a hand through her hair, igniting his blood all over again. Getting through Monday was going to be a challenge, he could tell.

“Yes. There’s nothing left behind this time.”

He escorted her out of the door after checking to see if the coast was clear, not wanting another interaction with his neighbor, not with her there. He held her hand, not just from wanting that physical contact, but also to prevent her should she lose her footing while they descended the stairs. A little wobbly on a few steps, she had managed to avoid a klutzy fail. At her car door they stood, the déjà vu crossing their minds as he took hold of her face and pulled her in for a farewell kiss.

“If I could, I’d bottle up the way you look at me and I would open it whenever I feel I need a kiss, or maybe a little boost of confidence. If I could, I’d take that look and wear it like a sweater and although feeling this way all of the time would be nice, having you here would be better.” He proclaimed, watching her eyes widen. “It was a little poem I found online…” he confessed a moment later. “I haven’t had the time to compose one of my own.”

“Charles…” she whispered, eyes glistening. “I…”

‘I what?’ she thought. ‘Don’t deserve poetry? Aren’t ready to open your heart? Or be honest….tell him you absolutely love it, that he can give you a poem a day if he so wishes, filling that empty decanter of a heart with honeyed wine.’

“Sorry, that might have been too much…I just wanted to express myself, without using a particular L word.”

She pulled him against her, her body falling back against her car again but she didn’t care. Her entire being felt like combusting. “God damn it, stop.” She whispered fiercely to him. Her frozen interior felt ignited all over, lava bursting from a dormant volcano, coursing through her veins and every follicle of hair, melting away several years of winter snow.

‘Don’t say it. Don’t say it. For the love of everything sacred, do NOT say it.’

Not even Bowser tugging his leash could pull them apart as they wrapped around each other in their passionate embrace, putting everything they felt for the other behind the enveloping kiss. Her bag of evening wear hit the cement, her clutch dangling from a wrist as she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, his hands taken to gripping her shoulders as he pulled her off her car.

A group of kids walking by had started making exaggerated ‘oooh’ and ‘awww’ sounds and chanting that Charlie had a girlfriend before Ms. Whipple shooed them away as she swept the walk path. She smirked to herself in delight at the sight of young love before shouting over to the intimate couple.

“Enough of that Charlie, I think the lady needs to be going now.”

Immediately startled by the mention of his name, he removed his lips from hers and released her shoulders. He turned around and flushed beet red at the sight of his landlady leaning on her broom with a ridiculously large grin upon her face. He turned back to Sam. “She’s absolutely right. I’m being foolish. I’m sorry Samara.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She panted, catching her breath. “I think we both are. It’s not like we won’t see each other tomorrow, right?”

“Right. Though I won’t be able to greet you with a kiss, or get to hold you like this.” He lamented.

She patted his chest. “Easy lover boy. Save that passion for fencing class. Until next time…maybe we should go to my place instead?”

“I daresay we would have less prying eyes.” Though he’d be sending Bowser off to be babysat again…

“I have to go. Please.” She said, pushing his chest so he would back up. He acquiesced, understanding that they finally needed to put a distance of space between them. He opened the car door for her as she retrieved the fallen bag and stepped inside, careful to keep the hoodie from rising up too much. He closed the door gently, lingering until she rolled the window down. Her hand rested on the frame as she leaned out just a ways. “I’ll text you, when I get home, ok?”

“Thank you.” He took hold of her hand and leaned down, bringing it to his lips. They had had a lengthy discussion about her safety, with him proclaiming that even if she wasn’t his girl, that he’d be concerned for her regardless, knowing just what she was wearing. She had flushed at the use of the word ‘girl’ with no friend added, it somehow felt more endearing. Assuring him that her building had a safe car port and cameras and the receptionist at the front desk, and that there would be no detours from his place to hers, she had finally quelled his nerves.

With a turn of the key, the engine purred to life, the final indication in the lengthy process it had been just getting out of his apartment and arms. She rolled up the window, knowing that if it remained down any longer he’d probably stick his head in for one last kiss. And she’d let him, if she wasn’t the one leaning her head out for it first. ‘Oh my god what has gotten into me?’

He stood and watched her car reverse and pull away from sight, feeling his heart go with her as if it had been anchored to the bumper and ripped from his chest. He raised his right hand, placing it on the invisible wound. ‘What is this?’

If not for Bowser, he might’ve stood there for an hour, maybe more. But the little dog needed to conduct his business, and his owner needed to shake off the pink fluffy clouds swirling in his mind. On his way back to the apartment the little old woman stopped him at the stairwell.

“You look ill.”

“I feel ill.” He confessed, hand rubbing an ache he couldn’t reach. “What does it mean when you can’t stop thinking about someone? When you hurt the moment they leave?”

“You’re in love. Deep.” She chuckled.

“I was afraid of that.” He sighed. “It’s too soon…right?”

“My boy, when two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to the other. The presence is felt throughout a held hand, a voice heard and the sight of a smile. Even through a simple touch. Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance.” She exclaimed with the voice of reason. “They only know it feels right to be with one another. This is why you miss someone so much when they are not around. Your soul feels their absence-it doesn’t realize the separation is temporary.”

He stood there a moment, contemplating the little grandmother and how in a way, she reminded him of his own back in Wales. He hadn’t even spoken to his family about her yet, for fear that she wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings and he’d be left with another disappointment. But was it really the right time to come forward about this now? After their first night (and morning) together?
……………………

After his conversation with Charlie on the stairs, Marshall wasn’t quite up to heading back up to his apartment. He pulled out his phone as Dinah did her business and texted Monica that he was going to the Daily Grind to grab a drink, asking if she wanted anything. She reminded him to get decaf and to take it easy.

With their princess pupper tucked into his arm, he walked the short distance to the coffee shop, ever grateful for the close proximity. A little fresh air to help clear his mind would probably be just what his doctor would order. He really had no one to blame but himself, for everything that had happened. He had given his consent to Charlie after all-needed or not, he still proclaimed he was fine with it-but was he really? He didn’t even know his neighbor all that well.

But recalling everything that had transpired between the two of them, he believed in what he said; what he felt. And truly, he believed Charlie was better suited for Sam than he ever was.

He stepped into the coffee shop, dog tucked in his arm, automatically bringing forth adoring ‘awwwws’ from onlookers who saw her. Dinah had a way of attracting attention. Dee came around and asked to hold her, arms outstretched and hearts in her eyes. Marshall relented, never one to disappoint. He stepped up to the counter and ordered a decaf latte, as Link tapped the touch screen register.

“Doctor’s orders?” he asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Your blood pressure was through the roof. I bet you guzzle a few energy drinks a day, don’t ya?” he replied as he set to work. Dee was off in the back, just melting over the cuteness of Dinah’s large eyes.

“When you’re sponsored by a drink company, you kinda have to.” Marshall shrugged. “I’m probably gonna lose that soon, seeing as how I need to overhaul my whole lifestyle now.”

“What you need are some natural energy boosting shakes.” Dee piped up, pulling a pamphlet from practically nowhere and handing it to him. “We’re branching out with trying to cover that particular drink craze without going full juice bar. After all, I like my coffee how I like my women and The Daily Grind will always remain a coffee shop first and foremost.”

He took a look at the pamphlet, seeing a list of ingredients for each smoothie blend. Nothing artificial and the sources for the fruits were labeled under Farmer’s Market so people knew it was grown and procured locally. “This might be what I need. I could totally become a spokesperson for you if you’d like. Help spread the word considering you’re practically a neighbor.”

“You’d do that? Even though I can’t pay you?”

“It’s occurred to me that not everything has a monetary value.” He replied.

Link secured the lid on the cup and slid it across the counter towards him. “Sounds like you’ve had a change of heart recently.”

Marshall collected Dinah back into her familiar crook in his arm and turned to Sam’s friend. He smiled and took the hot cup. “You know, I think you might be right.”
………………………….

Sam’s hands trembled once she pulled out of the lot from the apartment complex and lined her car up among the flow of traffic. She took a wavering breath and exhaled it with a life time of practice. A flood of emotions washed over her as she tried quelling the inner tsunami, repeating a mantra over and over again.

I made my choice. I want to go through with this. I want to be happy again.

She turned on the radio, music needed to soothe her nerves and mind. While she knew that this was all brand new to him, she worried that she’d be taking advantage of his naivete in all things. Knowing her past experiences gave her the leverage over him, should she want anything, he’d do it, no questions asked. The underlying threat in Diana Rosewood’s statement of making him her slave sat uneasily in her stomach.

She’d never be comfortable with holding all the power, making the decisions that could very well lead to the end of his employment. Vikki had said that she’d naturally have the scale tipped in her favor, and that they’d need to find what worked for them in order to have balance. They’d have to set some boundaries, guidelines for them to follow for their weekdays.

Given how dangerously close she came to losing her life from the heartache she endured, she knew her family would not ever be so accepting in her next choice of a potential spouse. Especially Jay and her dad. They already had their defenses up, hackles raised at any man who dared to look at her. Her mother though…and Ruth…she could probably count them in to be on her side once she was able to sit them down and explain what she was experiencing. Hell, she already Dee and Vikki telling her to go for it, that he was just what she needed.

Why was it so terrifying to just push that wall down? It had been all too easy to build it, reinforce it and hide behind it. But it was not indestructible; someone had taken a careful look at it and found its weaknesses, and just tapped the stones enough to loosen them out of place. Once they had fallen, it was all too easy to breach, leaving her defenseless with no place to run. What scared her most of all was how little she resisted.

Almost like I had been waiting for him…

Had I been waiting for him? Someone like him? Had my wall been built just in such a way that only he could’ve known how to nonchalantly sneak in without breaking it completely?

Before she knew it, she was pulling into the secured lot of her high-rise and sliding into the reserved spot. Carefully, she checked her surroundings as she exited the car and held her bag close. She wasted no time making her way to the main lobby and dashing into an elevator, hitting the top floor button before anyone could approach.

Ah, safe at last.

She sighed and leaned against the steel wall, taking a relaxing breath as the ding sounded and the doors parted open, welcoming her back to her safe place. Home.

……………

PING!

Charlie immediately dashed for his phone resting on the nightstand. He had taken to stripping his bed and remaking it once he made it back inside and had been resting, letting his mind wander in a garden of lilacs in bloom and the sea breeze in the air.

He opened up the text to see the emoji of a little house and nothing more, but it made him smile nonetheless. He opened up the emoji roster and began scanning through, trying to find the appropriate response when another emoji popped up, this time a pair of kissing lips. His chest warmed at the sight of that simple little picture, far more than a sentence saying she made it home. He returned with the kiss emoji, feeling as if he had blown an actual kiss and sent it to her.

“I am really in deep aren’t I boy?” he asked out loud, as if Bowser would suddenly turn to him and say ‘dude’ with the upmost driest response. His dog only looked at him with adoring pupper eyes and a wag of his little stump.

“Yeah, I never was one for taking tiny steps.” He mused. “Always jumping to the finish line before even learning the basics…”

Not that someone with his intellect couldn’t handle jumping ahead a few steps and catching on quickly without instructions. But this was not some school project, not some new hobby he jumped into head first. This was no game, not in the slightest. Not with hearts on the line that could easily be so broken. This was not one of those choose-your-own-adventure books where you could always pick another path on the second read through.

Despite all her proclamation for her independence and private lifestyle, he could see deep down that she craved the connection between two people that went beyond the carnal pleasure. A connection of the mind, not just the body. Finding that compatible someone that you could envision being with for….years? Forever?

Yeah…I’m in deep.
…………………………………

Chapter Text

In all her years of working at Young Technologies, Lucy has never been as nervous as she was now. Even on her first day, her nerves weren’t as jittery as this morning. She expected at some point during the weekend to receive a scathing call or text, even angry worded email, but nothing came from Sam at all. She knew they made it out of the locked office; she had seen Charlie’s application and noted that tidbit of him being a consultant on escape rooms. If anyone could figure out how to pick a lock it’d be him.

She always arrived first, a good half hour before the rest of the crew on any given day. Her job consisted of preparing them with any last minute changes to schedules, incoming mail, and personnel calling in. When they came in, they expected to see her and share a smile and a wave; she was a fixture of the building at times. She knew she was often overlooked as a person and sometimes referred to as a computer herself-a compliment in a field like this. She was that effective. The main hub wouldn’t be the same without her.

That lump in her throat only seemed to grow larger as each minute ticked by. She just had to straighten her shoulders and set to work until that dreadful moment when she’d be called into either Sam’s or her father’s office….
……………………….

Having taken the extra time of slathering on concealer, foundation, and still grabbing a silk scarf to tie around her neck, Sam found herself falling behind in her usual timely fashion. She picked up the pace with her driving, skipping on breakfast and weaving through traffic in haste. If she imagined herself in the arcade, sitting in one of the play cars, it made everything feel less dangerous. It was the only way she managed to pass her driver’s test, the written part was easy. But being among hundreds of other drivers that all had their own individual destinations and not enough road made for short tempers and offensive maneuvers. It was a trial by fire that took pity on none. You either got into the swing of it or you stuck with public transpo. And the quality of public transportation certainly had fallen in the recent economy.

She squealed tires upon entering the underground lot and swerved into her personal parking space, seeing a gaggle of employees making their way to the elevator. She knew the mechanics of the elevators and how slow they could be, with people needing to ascend to higher floors, so despite the uncomfortable condition of being in a cramped tiny metal box with a dozen other bodies she’d endure it in order to remain punctual.

Cursing her choice of footwear, she found herself lagging behind the rush. “No, hold it please!” she called out as the doors began shifting closed. Before they could meet, a large hand thrust through and prevented the seal. The doors retracted, with Charlie standing there, arm outstretched.

Her face immediately went red, she could feel it. Luckily anyone else would just assume it was her being out of breath from running. She knew why. He knew why. His hand still extended, he offered it to her to take as she stepped over the rim and into the elevator. He parted the crowd, leading her to the very back wall where she was most comfortable, as the murmuring returned from conversations that had been halted a moment before.

Leaning their backs against the cool steel, he dared to link his pinky in with hers in secret, no one able to see their hands. They kept their heads parallel with their bodies, gazes forward like everyone else. The ride was short, too short, but uneventful. When the lift reached its destination and the doors parted, the rush of bodies evacuating, they had released pinkies and simply walked out and gave each other a normal breadth of space.

Approaching Lucy’s desk, Sam put on her “business as usual” look and asked for her mail like she always did. Lucy’s hand shook just slightly at her boss’s nonchalance, setting it on the raised counter of her desk. “Morning.” She tried her best at sounding as chipper as ever. Sam merely flicked a glance at her assistant.

“If you would be so kind.” She ordered with a blasé tone and continued on to her office in stride. Charlie collected the few envelopes and took a single step before Lucy burst upright from her chair.

“I’m sorry about Friday!” she exclaimed in quelled whisper, unable to hold it in any longer.

He cocked his head at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said before making his exit, leaving Lucy to slump back down in her seat with bewilderment.

“What the…?” she whispered to herself, wondering if her little stunt had paid off or backfired.
………………………………….

“Do you think she’s sweating bullets now?” Sam asked as he handed the mail over to her. She had set her briefcase on her desk and adjusted her scarf as Charlie stepped in a few seconds behind.

“Quite possibly.” He answered, watching her attempt to cover his mark. He couldn’t help but curl his lips up in delight, the memory still so fresh.

“Ugh, I’ll never understand how she wears these things all the time.” She grumbled as she adjusted the silk so it wouldn’t itch. “I blame you. This is completely your fault.”

He held his hands up. “I won’t argue that. And I do apologize once again.”

Finally satisfied with the arrangement of her scarf and her billow-sleeved blouse she turned around to face him. Seeing him with his hair slicked back, contacts in, and that suit had her temperature rising despite how many times she’d seen that side of him…perhaps knowing what was underneath that vest and button up shirt was to blame. Yes, definitely. That must be it.

“You look lovely today.” He said softly, as if he had waited all morning to be able to do so.

“Don’t do that.” She ordered with a finger pointed at him. “Not like that. You’ve got to keep that lovey-dovey tone at home.” She took in a breath. “We’re gonna have to set some rules. Distinguish work-mode from relationship-mode.”

“Easy there.” He softly cooed. “I’m aware. I was thinking along the same lines last night. I promise I’ll behave….Missus Young.”

Ah there it was; that old familiar use of address. The business savvy tone and the way his accent changed ever so slightly when he was here. How was it she never noticed it before now?

She nodded. “Good. Now we proceed as usual. Work mode begins now.”

……………………….

Charlie sat at his desk, trying extremely hard to concentrate when his mind wandered as to when she’d discover the little gift he’d cleverly slipped in with the post. It was something he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with it every day-or any given day-not if they were to remain under the radar.

But he had said he would make her feel beautiful and cherished, even if he had to remind her every day.

……………..

Sam was trying to accurately word together in her mind what she wanted to say to her father as she checked each envelope, one by one, until she came upon the last with her name scrawled beautifully across the front. Her eyes widened at the thought of Charlie being sneaky again, wondering what was inside as she split the seal. She wasn’t entirely surprised it was a sheet of paper.

She unfolded it and found a little paragraph written by hand:

“When we first started talking I honestly didn’t want to get involved with anyone.
Heck, I never saw it coming. But you were the absolute best to me, and you were so easy to talk to.
Little by little, I found myself falling even harder for you.”

A hand came to her mouth as her eyes moistened; his honesty and heart on his sleeve touching her deeply. She quickly folded the letter back up and slid it into its envelope, then tucked it into her briefcase so it was out of sight. They couldn’t risk being caught with cute gestures like these, however endearing they were.

“Man, this is going to be rough.” She muttered to herself as she regained her composure. She’d never dated a co-worker before, college was one thing, but this was the big leagues. Their professional reputations would be tested as much their emotional commitment to the other. But if her parents could make it work….

A moment later, the man himself had stepped into her office, beaming as he always did, especially when it came to business. “You wanted to see me pumpkin?”

She nodded. “Yeah dad, have a seat please.”

The large man easily filled one of the two chairs seated before her desk, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his dark brown eyes bright with anticipation at what his daughter had to say. She cleared her throat and began voicing the rehearsed proposal she had concocted in her mind.

“Dad, as you know I’m trying to put myself out there as the face of the company. And I know that means meeting more clientele in person. At first, I wasn’t keen on that; you know how I am around new people, but my meeting with Mr. Harris really helped nudge me in that direction, and I want to continue.”

“That’s wonderful news sweetie.”

She gave a nod, seeing that he had at least been hooked by the bait. Now she needed him to bite. “But you know I’m only comfortable with driving around town, not those long distances on the highway to where others clients might be, like in San Fran or Berkley. I’d need to rely on my assistant to handle that so I’m still fresh and alert for the meet.”

“Your assistant…Jones?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, I know you haven’t had a proper introduction with him but I can assure you over his time working with me that he’s proven to be an asset to the company.”

“Which hasn’t been very long.” He added.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d been here a whole year until now, with him as my assistant I’ve been able to determine that I can trust him. I’d like to believe that the trust you have in me would carry over.”

“Of course I trust you.” He immediately responded in his defense. His back straightened and eyes focused on his daughter. Now she had him.

“Well if you trust me, then you’ll have no problem with me making arrangements for him to receive driver’s education classes so he can earn his license through the company.”

A second of silence passed as her father processed her words. “What do you mean; he doesn’t know how to drive? And you trust him to be behind the wheel?” his voice rose in octave with each sentence.

“Dad calm down.” She ordered, hand out and flagging him before he could jump from his seat. “He’s fully licensed to drive, in Wales, just not here.”

She watched the gears grind in his head. “All he needs is to take the vehicular test and become certified. It’s just a matter of learning everything in reverse.”

The man stroked his beard, eyeing his daughter dubiously; trying to figure out why he felt there was an underlying reason behind this request. “Send him in.” he said, watching her eyes widen.

“Dad?” her voice wavered with concern. This wasn’t part of the plan!

“Bring him in, let’s have that proper introduction. After all, I’m supposed to entrust him with your safety.”

Taken back by this sudden twist she honestly had not seen coming; she picked up her phone and pushed the button set to his office. She’d never had to call him before; their doors were literally a few feet apart. There was no decent reason she could give to her father to not call him. She cleared her throat and prayed that her voice wouldn’t betray her. “Charlie, could you step into my office?” she asked.

“Is something wrong?” he immediately asked with apprehension.

“Just a bit of business to discuss with my father, you can set your assignment aside for now.” She carefully gritted through her teeth, hoping the message was clear. Hanging up, she turned back to her dad hoping she looked convincing. The seconds of silence between her call and the door opening felt the longest of her life, the figurative sweating bullets only elevating her anxiety.

“Ah, thank you for coming.” She piped up, motioning for him to step inside. “I believe you’ve briefly met my father, Samuel J. Young.” She introduced, watching with trepidation as her father stood to his full height and turned to greet the blond Welsh with a firm handshake, which he in turn received.

“A pleasure sir.”

“Likewise.” Samuel replied flatly. “How’s the hand?”

“Intact and fully functional. Your future daughter-in-law treated me with a gentle but firm touch. You must be proud to have someone like her by your son’s side.”

“We are.” Samuel replied with guarded appreciation. “How have you taken to your duties here?”

Charlie wasn’t sure what this little interaction was for, seeing how Samara was on pins and needles, a sure giveaway that this had not been her idea. He just needed to remain calm, speak honestly, and look the man in eye with the respect he deserved. “Your staff has been quite cordial; my duties haven’t been beyond my understanding or ability to complete.”

“Your resume was impressive.” The elder man noted. “I trust that your background check was also clean.”

“Impeccable.” Charlie proudly declared.

Samuel tucked his hands into his pockets, taking a slight casual stance. “Then how is it you do not have driver’s license? You’ve lived here how long?”

Charlie kept his eye straight at his superior, knowing even a sideways glance to Samara could give him away. “It’s been a year. I get by with public transportation since I do not have my own car. And when all else fails, I still have two perfectly functional feet.”

“And yet you intend to take the duty of driving my daughter to future client meetings that can be hundreds of miles away? Do you have any experience with long distance driving?”

“Dad…”

“Actually sir, I do. Wales has many rural communities separated by winding roads through the hillside, not all that different from the terrain here.” It surprised him that Samara was actually going through with her suggestion from Saturday, and that Samuel Young was taking it into consideration.

“The rules of the road are not all that different, merely just getting the hang of which side to stay on and the design of your American cars will be my only challenge.”

Samuel crossed his arms at the word challenge. “Is that so?” his interest piqued. The boy seemed quite confident in himself, but not so much to come off as cocky.

“I have a clean driving record. I’d never subject my mother to the embarrassment of driving foolishly.” Something about the conviction of his statement caused the protective father to believe him. He looked over at his daughter, her eyes taking in this exchange with a mixture of entertainment and concern. The concern that only someone who truly trusted in another could present.

‘Why does she trust him?’ he wondered.

He returned his imposing gaze at the unfazed young man, who remained as stoic and casual without an ounce of defiance from this close proximity to his CEO. “Have you ever driven her car?”

“I have not. Though I doubt a Mercedes is the best choice of vehicle to take on lengthy road trips in the first place. I would suggest if there is; a company vehicle to take instead?”

Sam’s breath caught in her throat. Just what exactly was happening here? This conversation had taken an unexpected detour, efficiently yanked from her hands like a fisherman caught off guard. She was certain she had her father lined up to take the bait and just accept her reasonable explanation, not start interrogating Charlie-in front of her-in this somewhat unsettling easy going nature. There was an entirely different conversation going on underneath the words spoken.

“And despite my affinity for wearing suits in the office, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty and dig into the engine should there be a malfunction. My grandfather taught me everything I needed to know about vehicular care.”

Her dad’s head cocked to the side, arms still crossed in contemplation. He began sprouting off what if scenarios, to which Charlie answered with the appropriate response with the efficiency of someone who truly knew their stuff. Suddenly, it was if she wasn’t even there-and it was her own damn office! Nothing Samuel questioned Charlie about was given an answer he didn’t like, this pop quiz sprouting from the depths of nowhere that neither couldn’t have prepared for.

To finish it all off, Charlie added he was certified in CPR and that he had even assisted in the medical aid of his next door neighbor. Sam’s blood froze in her veins at the conflict within once he mentioned it, worried her father would inquire further about it and discover who the recipient was, as well as the terrifying flashback it brought back to her.

She grabbed her desk, feeling nauseous. Immediately, both men stopped talking and turned to her. Uh oh.

“Sorry, I didn’t eat breakfast, I should just go sit down.” She mumbled, quickly rounding the edge of her desk and sliding into her seat.

“You know better than to skip a meal honey.” Her father chided. He turned to the young man. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

Sam instantly sat upright. This couldn’t be good.

“You score perfectly on your written and physical driver’s test and I‘ll see to it that you’re issued your license, and even help select a safe, travel worthy vehicle in your name.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

“Beg your pardon?” he exclaimed in unison with her.

Samuel seemed pleased with the reaction he received from them. “If you prove you’re the upmost safest driver to chauffeur my daughter to her destinations then I fail to see why you shouldn’t be rewarded as such. Consider it a test of my trust as well.”

“Dad, are you serious?” her hands slammed on her desk, snapping both their necks in her direction. “You can’t joke like that. Don’t be so cruel.”

“I never joke when it comes to the company.” He replied with the same words she had given to Charlie only days ago. He held out his hand to the young man. “What do you say?”

“I say you have yourself a deal sir.” Charlie replied, taking the man’s hand in his own.

“Good.” Samuel stated with satisfaction. “You can start with picking up some breakfast for our general manager.” He pulled out his wallet and handed some bills over to Charlie. “Avoid raisins and almonds.” He ordered before departing.

Sam’s arms shook, from hypoglycemia or shock she couldn’t say. She shifted down into her chair once again, at a loss for words, pondering on just how cleverly her father had taken control of that little proposal of hers and twisted it on its head. She still had a ways to go if she was going to fill his enormous shoes.
……………………….

Replenished by her late morning meal, Sam spent all of her working hours until lunch in her office, eyes glued to her screen, fingers on her keyboard and ear to phone when needed. All the while she wondered just what her father was up to. It wasn’t like him to…..well he was generous….he’d given pay advances before and helped employees when medical needs had compromised their performance in the office…so his offer to Charlie about the car wasn’t too left field, just a little further left field than usual.

She’d always grown up hearing him talking about work, and how important it was to treat your employees like family if you wanted a loyal work base. People who were underpaid, undervalued and overworked often left a company they loved and would settle for a mediocre paycheck in a dead end job. Hardly anyone who ever left Young Technologies had left disgruntled. Samuel Young respected his employees, everyone from the highest ranking manager to the janitor. Everyone made the company what it was.

A knock to her door jolted her out of her thoughts, it opening to reveal her handsome assistant with a smile on his face. “I’m making sure you don’t skip lunch.” He stated, coming in and closing the door behind him.

“Oh great, another watchdog.” She playfully rolled her eyes and pushed herself back from her desk.

“Even if your father hadn’t tasked me with forging for you this morning, I would still see to it that you eat a proper meal.”

She stood up and smoothed down her blouse and pants, feeling heat rise in her face as he closed the distance between them. “We can’t be seen eating together.” She said nervously. “We need to maintain some distance…”

Charlie couldn’t help but take a small grain of pleasure from her anxiety. “My dear, I don’t see how a meal together will instantly raise the Red Alert and bring the armada. But if that is what you wish, how can I say no?”

Her head popped up at hearing that. Now she knew she had heard him say that on more than one occasion. That simple phrase somehow hit her ear differently. “You can’t always agree with me.” She narrowed her eyes as she fiddled with her scarf.

“I can if I do actually agree with what is being discussed.” He smirked. He reached over and removed her hand off the bow she fussed with. At first he undid the entire thing, then he retied it and gave it longer loops so they hung down to cover her neck, and his mark. “I don’t mind having lunch out in the garden, as long as I know you’re sitting right where you can see me.”

Her gasp was audible and true, her eyes round and mouth parted in shock. “How did you…?”

He chuckled. “Can’t give away all my secrets now can I?”

She playfully smacked his chest. With a glance at the firmly closed door she chewed her lip and then pulled his tie so that he had to crane his neck down. “Shut up and be quick about it.” She whispered before her lips met his. He eagerly reciprocated, hands pulling her hips to meet him as he gave in to her demand. Quick and passionate, easily ended when she pushed on his chest and took a step back.

“Ok, I know we agreed to be professional…no more or else we might as well send an email en masse to everyone.” She panted as she spaced her fingers out and took a calming breath. “Jesus…I thought I had myself in check….”

He placed a hand on his chest, trying to steady his nerves as well, taking in long breaths and releasing them slowly. Perhaps having lunch in two different areas was probably for the best, for now. “Are you going to be alright?”

She nodded. “I’m fine, you go ahead, I’ll be right behind.” She shooed him away from her to get him going, falling in step as he turned around and lead them from her office.
…………………….

Sitting in what was now becoming her usual spot, with her unobstructed view, Sam tried to hide her smile under the guise of reading the newspaper. Her plate was half eaten, eyes on her secret lover as he sat on the boulders and ate his lunch in peace, knowing full well she was his captive audience. Lucy timidly approached her table at first, then swallowed hard and took the last few steps in stride, hefting her tray down loudly and plopping into the seat adjacent.

“You’ve got a lot of guts.” Smirked the manager to the receptionist.

“Someone had to have some.” She replied, unfurling her napkin. “Do I apologize or congratulate you?”

“Both.” Sam said, surprising herself with her own boldness. “I do not like being locked in a room, any room, no matter what size it is. Please consider that it took some time for me to calm down, and that I didn’t go into an attack.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “I had no idea! You take the elevator every day; I figured it didn’t bother you. Oh my goodness Sam, I would’ve never done it otherwise.”

She reached over and patted her friend’s hand. “I forgive you, only because that sneaky Welsh got us out of the office, and we did….talk.”

“Talk?” Lucy snorted. “Then why are you covering your neck with that awful 80’s relic? Talks don’t leave marks.”

Her hand immediately went to the spot, if Lucy hadn’t known then she knew now. Her ears started turning pink as she knew her face was giving herself away. “You can’t say a word to anyone here.”

The bubbly redhead laughed and made the zipper motion across her mouth. “I told you that the guys won’t care, and that I prefer speaking with you than any of the other girls here. So it’s official now? Right?”

“Official? What on earth…?”

“I’ve been shipping you two from the start!” she whispered with excitement. “I even came up with a cute little name for the two of you! Charm. A blend of Charles and Sam. Cute right?”

Sam brought a hand up to her forehead. “Oh my god…” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but then again it wasn’t a total surprise. Leave it to Detective Lucy to sniff out the clues. The woman was a romance fueled bloodhound.

“I knew it.” She smacked the tabletop with glee. “Oh I wish I had bet money on this.”

“Lucy, curb your enthusiasm please. I’m trying to maintain this on the down-low.” Sam hissed in a fierce whisper. Lucy nodded and giggled as she set to her lunch.

“Right, we’ll chat later.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you too much to fire you.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Lucy cheered, raising her bottle of juice.
…………………………………..

After completing her work for the day Sam still had time to kill, she’d been working quite efficiently and diligently, letting business lead the way. She opened up a document in a separate tab and began typing up guidelines for her and Charlie to follow. Things like ‘no flirting at work’ was naturally typed first, and she would elaborate on them later. Given that Lucy knew she’d be an exception to them keeping it secret in the work environment.

“Ok, I’ve got no texting, calls, touching, kissing….” Jeez, just sucking all the fun out of life….She brought her hands up to her face. Would it really be the end of days if her father knew? Yes, yes it would. In an instant. Especially after today. He’d need time to be eased into the idea of her even wanting another relationship again, let alone with a fellow YT employee.

The Young apple did not fall far from the tree. Even her brother was in a relationship with a co-worker…

“God, what is with my family anyway?”

“They’re entirely too passionate.” A velvety Welsh accent answered, startling her in her seat. She looked up and found him grinning in the doorway. “Especially when it comes to work. Planning on staying late?” he inquired, pointing at the wall clock.

She gaped like a fish for a moment, not realizing the time had come. She saved the document and emailed it to herself before shutting down the laptop. Who knows how long she’d remained there, lost in her thoughts without someone poking their head in? She gathered up her briefcase and nearly walked right into him as he did not move out of her way.

“Charles?” she looked up at him before feeling his hands on her shoulders, pulling her in.

“This time, there’s no rush.” He whispered huskily, lips on her ear. “And I daresay I was not satisfied with our last kiss.”

Honestly, she wasn’t either. She stood on her tiptoes, tilting her chin upwards, imploring him with those doe eyes. “You are entirely too cute.” He smiled, cradling her face and bringing her closer until their lips met in a gentle embrace, the softest of caresses, as sweet as a simple interlocking of pinkies in an all too short elevator ride.

“I want to be able to do this every day…even if it’s at the end of the day, and in secret. Just one kiss with you…” he pleaded softly.

“Are you…sure you can…just stop at one?” she asked between little baby kisses.

“Only if you behave.” He chuckled against her lips. “Otherwise I’ll miss my bus.”

“Forget the bus.” She ordered, pulling on his shirt. “You won’t be needing it much longer.” Her teeth took hold of his bottom lip in a playful tug before letting it go. “Let’s get out of here before we break every rule at once.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He sighed with relief and adjusted his tie as she dashed to the door.
……………………….

Diligent for any lagging personnel, they behaved accordingly as they exited the building and entered her car. All through the drive they rode in comfortable silence, just sharing occasional glances at each other that led to a smile and a turn of the head. She gladly undid the scarf from her neck and had her sleeves rolled back at a stoplight, giggling at the look he gave her when she threw it at him.

“Just so you know; I hated wearing that thing. I don’t like anything tight around my neck.”

“Consider it noted.” He replied, folding it up neatly into a little square.

“I started making a guideline for us when you came to my office. I think it’s best we both sit down and agree to points that work out for both of us. Like me, for instance. Not threatening your job for whatever reason. We shouldn’t use our jobs as positions of power over the other.”

“I think that goes without saying, but you are right. Having it written down and both of us agreeing to it…like a contract?”

“Sorry if that sounds awfully boss-like of me.”

“No apologizing, not when you’re making a completely valid point. We are tiptoeing through a minefield currently.”

She pulled into the parking spot that had become all too familiar now.

“Would you like to come upstairs Samara?” he asked, hearkening back to Friday.

She turned to him. “Why do I suddenly feel like the invited fly to the spider’s parlor?”

He took her hand and kissed he knuckles. “Only because you’re thinking naughty thoughts.” He chuckled. “But I digress; we should go over our contract so we come to work tomorrow in the right mindset.”

“Right.” She nodded with conviction, killing the engine and pushing open her door. They exited the car and took the stairs in stride, hands linked. They reached the third floor just as Monica approached the stairs, halting at the sight of them together, looking every much as the happy couple Marshall described.

“My don’t you clean up well.” She remarked to Charlie upon seeing his suit ensemble. He felt Samara squeeze his hand.

“You’re looking good Sam.” She added, trying to sound pleasant as possible.

“I know.” Sam quipped with figurative fangs bared. “If you’ll excuse us.” She sighed in a falsetto pitch, advancing forward with a prickly aura, causing Monica to shuffle back to make room for them. Sam didn’t bother giving her a second glance and made sure to keep her hand fully interlocked with Charlie’s as they passed her and her little white dog tucked into her purse.

He unlocked the door and was greeted with the bouncing bundle of black and white joy. He jumped and kicked his legs in stumpy glee, ecstatic to see his two favorite humans. Sam unhooked the leash from the wall and handed it to Charlie.

“Make yourself comfortable. We won’t be long.” He said, sliding his backpack off his arm and handing it to her. She took it and sauntered into the foyer, giving her butt a little extra wiggle that she knew caught his eye. He held his breath with a silent prayer and dashed down the stairs with Bowser.

He wasn’t surprised that he ran into the pink haired heart-breaker and her little companion out in park section. He squared his shoulders and entered, letting Bowser do his thing.

Monica turned around when Dinah yipped and pulled her leash to see her friend. She chuckled at the young blond, eyeing him up and down and mentally agreeing that Sam had excellent taste when it came to this one. “Tied the tigress to the bed?” she laughed, especially at how red his face turned at that. She leaned in a little. “I’ll tell ya, that’s about as bitchy as I’ve seen her get. Kinda hot actually.”

Taken aback by her statement, he didn’t have a response to that, nor did he think one was needed. Bowser finished up and kicked up grass, clearly ready to go. He parted with a cordial goodbye and then jogged back to the stairwell and gathered Bowser in one arm, taking the steps two at a time. Once in the foyer, he noted immediately that Samara was not in the living room. No worry there, she could always be in the bathroom. He unhooked Bowser, refilled his bowls and slipped out of his loafers and shucked his tie off, reaching for the first button when the creak of his bedroom door caught his attention. Curiousier and curiousier…

He pushed open his bedroom door, but she was not in immediate sight. From his left peripheral, he saw and heard the door creak close, a figure in another one of his hoodie’s standing behind him, sneaking her arm around him from behind. He felt her body press against him, noting immediately her breasts were not bra bound, not with how they squished into his back. Her hand trailed down his stomach and just barely touched his belt when he spun around.

“Samara!” he cried out in surprise, looking down and seeing that she was wearing one of his zip up hoodies and nothing more. All other garments of hers had been removed and carefully placed aside. She gleamed brightly, eyes lit with lust, setting his heart into convulsions. One step and she was in his personal space, hands coming up and undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I thought-”

“Shhh.” She hushed him. “We can discuss it later. Or are you not interested?”

For an answer, his hands grabbed hold of each pocket of his hoodie and pulled her flush against his hardening body. “I will ALWAYS be interested my dear. Especially when presented with a little gift like this? How can I say no?” He hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around him naturally as her arms locked around his neck.

“You say that so often…do you realize it?”

He carried her to his bed, laying her upon her back and kissing her solar plexus. “Say what?” he asked, trailing up to her throat as his hands nervously took her breasts and started thumbing her nipples.

“Never mind.” She chuckled, pulling her inhaler and a sealed condom from the pocket of his hoodie and placed them off to the side. Her hands finished undoing his shirt, flinging it open and raking her nails across his abs.

‘Tigress indeed!’ he thought, wondering what had brought this on but not questioning it one bit as her hands undid his belt and slid the zipper down.

“I have a request Mr. Jones…” she purred.

‘Mr. Jones?’ the use of his last name was something she had never uttered before, and though only his grandfather had been referred to by locals as Mr. Jones, hearing it come from her in that thirsty beg made it sound so sexy.

“And what is that?” he stopped his kisses and met her eye, dangerously dark and lust-ridden.

“That you’ll never let another woman turn your head.”

Ah, there it was. Hidden just under the surface, under this proud and powerful exterior still hid a shy girl who couldn’t see herself for all her worth, who still felt insignificant to other women, especially a particular pink haired one.

“They’d have to break my neck to do so. I told you, I only want you. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

The shine in her eyes nearly pooled from her lashes as her hands trembled against his body, no longer clawing at him.

“Samara, we don’t have to do this.” He said, starting to pull back. He brought his right hand up to her cheek, feeling the tear slide into his thumb. “Even though I’ll need a cold shower, I’m not going to have you subject yourself like this to me.”

“Please don’t…” she begged, pulling the edge of his shirt. “I’ve wanted you all day long…just seeing her look at you….”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” He nodded. “She didn’t mean anything by it. She honestly was just trying to be friendly. There’s no way in Hell she’d ever try taking anything from you again. They’ve both expressed their remorse to me. They want to be released from their guilt. All they want is your forgiveness.”

She released a little hiccup as another tear slid from her eye. “What?”

“I can’t help that I’m his neighbor, that I was thrust into this situation even before I realized I wanted to be, and that on occasion I have been a sounding board for certain confessions of truths.”

Sam shifted her glasses off her face and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of the borrowed hoodie. He picked the glasses up, folded them closed with one hand, and set them aside with her inhaler.

“You’re making excellent strides forward, but you’re still holding back. You’re still letting your pain prevent you from being who you truly are. One look from her and you’re practically ripping my clothes off-not that I don’t mind-just to prove that you’re desirable.” He took hold of her face again when she started to turn her head to the side.

“You are enough. Just as you are.”

Inhaling deep, she shuddered with the thrill that coursed up her spine and through her chest at his words. “Am I?”

“Fy anwylyd. Rydych chi'n ddigon.” He whispered before meeting her lips.

“What’s that?” she whispered as his hands moved across her body. She was answered only with a sly chuckle, a smirk, and his tongue running along her skin. She shivered, deciding questions were best left for later. She tried snaking her arms free of the oversized sweater but he caught her wrist.

“Oh no you don’t.” he purred. “You’re keeping that on until I’m through with you.”

“Then you better finish removing a few things…” she said with a firm smack to his buttocks.

He jumped with a little start but nonetheless obeyed as he began to shimmy his slacks down. Her impatient hands slipped into the fold of his briefs, catching him off guard as she took hold of his manhood and started rolling her thumb over the head. “Did you not get enough of me this weekend?” he asked, grabbing for the prophylactic with a shaky hand.

She elicited a sexy laugh as she took it from him and began sheathing his shaft. “Maybe….”

Pushing the inhaler and glasses under a pillow he leaned into her and pressed her down to her back once more. “I don’t think I had enough either.” His lips met her neck with care, his hands working their way down her pelvis. She felt the slight hesitation in him the lower along her body he touched. She placed her hand over his and met his eyes.

“It’s ok Charles.”

An understanding passed silently between them as they continued their kisses, their delicate touches, and the removal of his briefs. Despite the desire and intention to devour, it was tenderness that needed to be expressed, the upmost softest of caresses and lingering of fingertips, the gentle nibbles to the neck and shoulders.

His fingers traced the soft inner skin of her thigh, feeling her tremble from the electricity it sent through her. Ever so delicately, slowly making his way towards her center, he tortured her in the way only a gentleman could. The little mewls and whimpers escaping from her tightly pursed lips only enticed him more as he delved into the honey pot.

The feel of her dampened folds wrapped around his finger was unlike anything he’d ever touched, and with every move she writhed under him, twitched, bucked, and gasped with unexpected sensitivity. She was a puppet dancing to his tune. The increase in speed meant the higher pitch until she screamed, hands flying over her mouth as her body gave way to release. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, her chest heaved with heavy breaths, and arms flailed to the sides.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.” She panted, reassuring him.

He cocked his head to the side and watched for the signs, listening intently. A few moments of her recollecting her breath passed before lowered himself into her, taking her slowly, methodically, and in tune to the rhythm of her inhalations. She gripped his shirt with one hand, his hair in the other as she moved with him. With each breath she felt him thrust inside, with each exhale he pulled back. She’d never had such rhythmic lovemaking before. It was an entirely new experience.

‘How is he so good at this?’

In the blink of an eye, she felt herself being pulled from her prone position and soon upright as Charlie swung her over to be on top, his hands supporting her hips. As she had gathered her bearings, her fingers grasping at his pectorals, his hands slid from her hips to her ass, each hand clutching a cheek tightly. “Ah!” she cried out from the unexpected act, loving that he was becoming bolder each time.

She pulled him upright, wrapping her arms around his neck as his teeth took possession of her throat. His large hands swept across her back, underneath the hoodie, nails tracing lines across her smooth skin. Careful enough to not break skin, not draw blood, the little trails would soon fade away within a day or two. When she arched, he held her tightly as she shuddered with pleasure, before melting against him.

He cradled her gently as her orgasmic spasms rippled through her until subsiding out of existence. Her hands met at the nape of his neck, playing with random lose strands of platinum hair as her body quivered one last time. Exhausted, she rested her head against his chest as his fingers stroked her back. Feeling her heartbeat thump wildly until it slowed to a more normal pace, he matched his breathing in with hers so help her be more at ease. She hadn’t needed her inhaler this time; he couldn’t help but take pride in that. All he had to do was find that perfect rhythm for her.

“Stop that; or I’ll fall asleep.” She murmured against his chest, lazily smacking at one of his hands that still rubbed gently across her back. “Not that you’d complain, would you?”

He laughed. “Got me all figured out, do you?”

“Almost…” she sighed before placing a kiss on his shoulder.

“Almost is good. I want to be able to surprise you, no matter how well you think you have me pegged.”

“Like with that little love letter this morning?” she pulled away from his chest to look up at him.

“So you did read it.” He grinned, watching just a little flush spark across her nose and cheeks.

“I did. I also barely managed to get it put away before my dad came to my office.”

He released a rush of air at the mention of her father. “You had me scared for second, calling me in like that.”

“He put me on the spot, I didn’t know he’d ask to see you!” she exclaimed in an equal stupor. “And then having him drill you like that…”

“I didn’t mind. If anything, it just proved that you’ll be safe with me on the road. I grew up in the country Bunty; I was crawling behind the seat of tractors and trucks as soon as I could see over the dashboard. My little hands were inside every engine part even before then. Those were my first puzzles.”

She laid a hand on top of his and brought it up, placing her palm to line up against his. “They’re not so little anymore.” It was her turn to enjoy a tiny flush to his usual pallor. He interlaced his fingers with hers, enveloping her delicate palm within his own. For a split second, he imagined how her hand would look with a shiny band of white gold, set with an amethyst stone before pulling his hand away from hers as if scalded with boiling water.

“Charles?”

Flustered, he shifted her off his lap and began to fasten a button on his shirt. “I just realized what time it is…we should hurry up and set up our contract….so you can be out of here at decent hour...”

She could tell something was off, he wasn’t meeting her eye, his cheeks were furiously scarlet now, and his hands shook as he buttoned his shirt back up. A turn to the clock resting by his bed did reveal it was closer to seven in the evening. Practically time for dinner now. He excused himself to his bathroom, leaving her to ponder his thought process and gather her clothing. “I can order us some dinner if you like.” She hollered to him as Bowser came bounding into the bedroom to see her.

“If you like.” He responded over the rush of the faucet. The cold water was doing little to settle his nerves. With well-practiced breaths, he managed to calm down enough to fool himself into thinking he was perfectly fine, emerging from the bathroom only to nearly bump into her waiting right outside.

“Does Chinese sound good to you?” she asked as if nothing was wrong. “You’ll have to keep me apprised of your tastes so I know for the future.”

‘The future…’ Oh how that single word encompassed so much. He already knew where he wanted his future to be, unlike anything else in his life he saw this clearly. And it was standing before him.

“Nothing spicy. Gives me hiccups” he replied stoically. “I’ll make us a cuppa tea while you freshen up.” He patted her shoulder as he passed by. She couldn’t help but feel like he was hiding something, but who was she to demand to know every thought in his head, not when she had her own conflictions still resonating within herself?

‘Whatever it is, he’ll tell me time…’ she assured herself.
………………………..

Sitting by each other’s side with a steaming mug of tea in their hands, they were silent except for the breaths they blew and sips swallowed. His computer was open, her document on the screen, partially typed up. They were both apprehensive about being the first to suggest another amendment.

-Between M-F during business hours is work mode
-Work mode consists of professional behavior
-Exception of Lucy, no one else knows or needs to know (the Young family, YT employees)

“So…my family is an exception?” he inquired, shifting his glasses up and then down again.

She let out a breath. “Only if you’re comfortable telling them. You’re not entirely the best at lying…if your mother asks straight out if you’ve met a girl…what are you gonna tell her?” She craned her neck at him.

‘Tell her that I met the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with?’ he looked down at her and smiled. “You’re right; I doubt I could convince her of anything but the truth. It would be nice speaking to someone other than….well, you know who.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of his neighbor’s apartment.

She scratched her neck nervously. “Is there anything he’s told you that…I…should know?”

“Ah, so you are curious…” he chuckled.

She scrunched her face up and flushed. “We’re not going to keep secrets are we?”

His eyes warmed at the doe eyed beauty and brushed some hair away from her face. “Course not Bunty. No secrets, no lies. Only the exception for surprises and gifts.” He leaned to give her a kiss but stopped when the door sounded. “Ah, dinner.” He strolled over to the door and greeted the delivery man with a cordial smile as he took the bags. Bowser’s head poked up from the position on the couch but didn’t leave Sam’s side as she aimlessly stroked his back.

He couldn’t contain his canine glee at the prospect of getting some of that delicious stuff his human brought towards them, opening little cardboard boxes and pulling out steaming items. Charlie leaned over to Sam’s ear. “No matter how cute he looks begging, no hand-outs. Don’t let those puppy eyes get to you.”

“Does that only apply to him; or to you as well?” she countered, watching his eyes widen and lips curl into a cheerful grin.

In response to her little comment, he leaned in just a little more and nuzzled the shell of her ear with his nose, enjoying her squirm. He nipped the lobe gingerly causing her to shy away from him and grab a carton.

“Behave yourself.” She ordered, trying to dig her chopsticks into the vegetable mix. He took the beef and broccoli mix and clumsily grabbed a hunk of greenery with the utensil. They spent a few minutes in comfortable silence just enjoying their meal until a nagging question rose to the surface…

“Samara….just how many….I mean, are there other past gentlemen I need to be aware of?”

She nearly choked on her nugget of orange chicken merely from shock and quickly recovered with a guzzle of water. Setting her carton down she turned to him and searched his face. “Is something bothering you?”

“No.” he immediately shook his head. “I meant no disrespect by that, I just worry there might be someone who will try to make a comeback.”

Teeth worried her bottom lip as she contemplated naming names. Had they not just agreed to no secrets, no lies? “If someone did, how would you react to that?”

“How do you think I would?” he set his carton down with a hard thud and turned to her, taking her hand. “Do you think I would just LET someone try to take you from me?”

The passion radiating from those words warmed her to her core, shaking more ice crystals off the corner of her heart.

“I am committing myself to you, giving myself entirely to you in every way. This is not some little experiment that will end in a month or so. Not for me.” His thumb traced over her knuckles. “I know I shouldn’t put it all there like that, not while you’re still healing, and you’re under no obligation to say anything right now. But you should know I’m serious. There will no other women, not while I am with you. And if I have to fight some selfish prick who can’t take a hint then I will.”

She pulled her hand free and stood up; bringing both her hands to her face, then began to fan herself as she paced a path away from the couch and back. Fire flushed in her chest, in her blood and across every inch of skin.

“Samara, remember to breathe.” He softly warned, watching her face become bright pink. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come out with all that. I must sound like some possessive, obsessive, lovesick fool.” He yanked off his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, grabbing tuffs and hanging his neck low. “This is probably what you were trying to avoid, isn’t it?” He brought his head up, hands covering his eyes.

“Vikki told me to be patient….” He lamented.

He felt her small hand touch the crown of his head, fingers interlacing with his strands of hair. The other hand gently pulled the shield away from his eyes. “Charles…” she softly called, begging him to look at her. His chin tilted up, crystal blue eyes glossy with the threat of tears. “Your words didn’t scare me. If anything, I’m terrified of myself. That I’m never going to be able to reciprocate-”

He stood up abruptly, catching her hands. “I didn’t say all that in order to hear it back. I said it to make sure you knew. However long it takes for you to feel, that’s fine, I’ll wait. However long it takes you to be able to say it, I’ll wait for that too.”

“That….that could be a while.” She stammered, hands shaking just a bit.

He kissed her knuckles, bringing her hands together. “You’re worth waiting for.” He pulled her into his chest and wrapped and an arm around her. He chided his brashness. “You know, it’s entirely your fault that I even had the courage to say that.”

She sucked in a laugh. “Of course it is.” With every day that she made him do his self-love exercise she had seen the growth in him. He was actually finding things to love about himself and saying it with conviction each day. Eventually, he wasn’t going to need to do them anymore. She loved that she had been able to witness that about him.

“Come finish dinner. I promise I won’t say anything else.” He lured her back to the couch to sit. “Consider my foot fully in my mouth.” When they both turned the coffee table they found Bowser’s head stuck in one of the cartons, happily licking the interior clean.

“Bowser! You little porker!” Sam gasped with a mixture of shock and entertainment. Eventually, laughter won as her response as she watched Charlie pluck him off the couch and set him over in his little dog bed, listening to him chastise him in a mixture of English and Welsh. She brought a hand up to quell the escaping giggles at the adorable display. That familiar thought returned, that feeling of contentment, watching him play/punish the chunky pupper.

‘I could get used to this’ she mused. ‘Like, in the long run get used to…’

She sat down at the laptop and ran her fingers across the keyboard.

-No obligation to say “I love you”, even if one party says it first
-No “open relationship”, strictly committed to each other and none other
-Full transparency and honesty, no secrets & lies. Surprises handled with care

Charlie came back over, sat next to her and leaned in at the laptop. “Being productive I see.” His hand hovered at her back; unsure if it would be too much to just gingerly touch her. She turned and looked at him, saw him recoil his hand away.

“Charles…” she reached for it and pulled it into her lap. “I just want to get it right this time.”

He gripped her tiny hand. “Of course. And I’ll see to it that you do.”

“Don’t put me on a pedestal.”

“Course not, you’d fall off.” He joked.

She snorted out a little breath with a smirk. “True. I probably would.”

“See? We’ll make it work.” He touched his forehead to hers.
………………………….

Sam wistfully released a sigh as she lay in her large bed, one arm raised above her head, the other resting across her stomach. The whole evening replayed in her mind’s eye like a film, with her pausing at certain moments. She reviewed the interaction with Monica with suspicion for several moments until Charlie’s words rang through her ears and she could begin to see he was correct. Monica had only meant well, being courteous to the both of them.

The green-eyed monster lurking within slunk back into the depths of its cave, hiding away in the dark and curling up to sleep. It no longer needed to snarl and snap like a mad dog.

The next segment flashed before her, that moment of Charles’s brutal honesty and confession causing her chest to clench around her heart. Not that she had doubted he felt that way, but hearing it spoken out loud was something else entirely. It made it real. Real and true. The truth is what she wanted, was it not?

Her mind conjured the image of her wedding band, a simple circle of 24 carat gold that had not been all too expensive for starving artist college student Benjamin Lawson to purchase and slide on her finger with his adorably clumsy and impulsive proposal. So taken by his declaration of love and figuring they knew enough about each other in their months together that she had accepted without a second thought, utterly convinced she had found her perfect match.

How foolish. Impulsive. Completely unlike her.

How was it different now? Was history literally repeating? Had she already set herself into a trap of her own making once again?

There was something strange though, a little nagging tingle in the back of her mind, trying to push through the strangling fog of past memories that fought to cloud over the beautiful moment warming her in chest. That nagging became a whisper, pulling back the dark curtains and pushing its way past the stoic figures guarding the door. It banged on the wooden structure with hard fists, suddenly yelling at the top of its lungs.

That once beautiful glinting golden band was now a collar latched to a lone figure sitting in a dark room, wrapped in chains with a forlorn look upon its face-if emotions had a face-with mascara tear trails and chewed on fingernails. She heard the banging and yelling outside her dungeon door, wearily raising her head at first until she felt brave enough to stand, the chain clinking around her ankles.

The door creaked with a high pitch squeal as the wood splintered; falling off its hinges, dust clouding her vision for a moment, unable to see the figure in the doorway. Eyes squinted shut, she merely felt the hands that grasped the golden band and heard the ‘chink’ before its presence left her neck, the pieces falling to the cold stone floor in a clatter of precious metal turned to worthless bits.

“He’s not Benjamin, no one else is…He adores you….” Vikki’s voice echoed around them.

“How else was he supposed to come into your life?” Dee’s merrily chuckled.

“I’ve been shipping you two from the start!” Lucy squealed with delight.

The figure opened her eyes, seeing the broken chunks of gold at her bare feet, the chain once binding her in the cell now gone, as if it had never been there at all. Shaky hands touched her throat, finally feeling free for the first time in years.

Sam’s eyes shot open, unaware of her even closing them, hand clenched into a fist as she felt something release from within. “Fuck.” She whispered to the darkness.

Chapter Text

The week had been long and grueling, leaving none spared from its demands. It seemed the workload had doubled for the entire staff at Young Tech, with the deadline for the Ellesmere Project being bumped up a whole week, cutting back on valuable proofing time. Feet scrambled in the office, lunches were eaten at desks and more coffee had been guzzled than in the entirety of last month.

Sam and Charlie barely had a moment to share a glance, let alone enough time to say anything other than work related chatter. They had been put to the test of their contract whether they wanted it or not, but at least they had not faltered. Charlie found himself put into the position of everyone’s go-to messenger boy, delivery boy, and handy man when faced with a computer error, lengthy print out, or ink cartridge jam.

Just when he thought he’d get his lunch break to finally catch his breath, Mr. Young had poked his head into his office and demanded that he come with him. Immediately on his feet and on his trail, Charlie had no idea what to expect from his CEO. He had made sure to not even touch Samara’s hand, standing beside her in the break room as they refilled their mugs. Perfectly behaved as they agreed upon.

When they approached the parking lot Charlie swallowed hard and felt certain his goose was cooked now. But the older man had simply told him to climb in and they left the company building without as much as a word to Samara. At first, he sat silently keeping his breathing at a regular pace, trying to look as casual as possible. If Samuel wanted to grill him for anything, now was the time, but he didn’t, all he did was hum along to the radio.

Their destination wasn’t far, he found themselves at a vacant strip mall that had closed down for business, the lot mostly barren save a few vehicles in random slots, and a few orange cones set in certain patterns. It was falling into place but he still was shocked nonetheless.

“Now?” he asked, his voice just a squeaking a touch.

“No time like the present. The sooner you’re licensed the sooner I can stop fretting for Sam’s safety. I have deals in the works and meetings set in the near future that you’ll be taking her to.”

“Are you worried that badly?”

“Jones, one day when you have a daughter, you’ll understand completely how I feel, especially given her medical history. I already put her life in the trust of another once and he let us all down, I’m not about to make that mistake twice.”

Something about the man’s tone struck both fear and admiration in the younger. There was no margin for error, not if he wanted to prove himself to Samara but her family as well. It was becoming all the more clear that Samuel was at a point where he realized he was standing at a conjuncture of two roads. The paths before him were either continue on as if his princess was still a tender shy teenager who needed protecting, or finally see her as the adult she was, the job position she was jockeying for and that he’d have to eventually step aside and hand her the keys to the kingdom.

“I won’t let you down sir.” He promised.
………………………..

During the pace of the week, Sam had stayed late hours, insisting Charlie take the bus and tend to Bowser with the promise that they’d text upon arriving at home. As long as there was work to be done, and someone was at the office, it would still be considered “work mode” and there’d be no distractions. He was reluctant that first night, but didn’t argue for the sake of professionalism. It helped in keeping their secret relationship unknown, though it was little conciliation.

Given now that it was Friday, everyone was eager just to get out of the office, even if it meant diving head first into a face full of pillows and not getting up until Sunday morning. The usual jokers and clowns wanted to blow their steam, but all Charlie wanted as to lie beside his girl, hands entwined, dog resting on his chest and letting the world pass by. Everyone cheered when Samuel entered the main hub and said with all the catching up they’d pulled through the past couple of days that no one needed to stay late.

He was still subjected to another practice run through the secured parking lot during his lunch hour, his instructor patient and impressed by his foreign student taking to this task with minimal error. There was a determination in the young man that went beyond just the task of receiving his license.

Standing in her office doorway, he watched her push her glasses back up her nose as she squinted at the screen, clicking away at the keyboard while cursing under her breath. The farewell partings of their co-workers went unheard by her as she bit her lip and wrinkled her nose until a heavy handed thump on her key produced the result she apparently wanted and her eyes lit up with glee. “Yes, finally!” she shouted to herself.

“Quite the little battle there…” he mused, slinking in with a gentle push of the door behind him.

“Oh!” she cried out as it dawned on her that she was not only no longer alone, but with whom. He wouldn’t be here unless there was no one else around. She saved her work once, then twice just to make sure before closing the tab and shutting the computer down. “Man, I had been on that code for two hours. One little decimal out of place and the whole thing was off. Jesus, it’s those little things…” she sighed, pushing away from her desk and stretching.

“It’s always the little things.” He said with a throaty chuckle, coming up to massage her shoulders when she hunched over.

The moment his fingers grazed across her skin she rolled her eyes into the back of her head and surrendered, head lolling as he wound his thumbs on her back and his fingers on her collarbone. She nearly had to grab her desk for support. A back massage was NOT supposed to feel this damn good! “Mercy…” she begged with bated breath, trying to remain composed. His hands went in separate directions, one trailing down her back along her spine, the other reaching up her neck and locking into her loose hair, bringing her head back to look up at him. His hand slid around from her back to her stomach, pressing her against him.

“Charles…” she whispered before swallowing the lump in her throat. Her hands were frozen in place, unsure of where to go, what to latch onto as she felt his desire. “We’re still…at work…”

“Only physically.” He rasped against her ear, tilting her head to the side. “But mentally…you know where I am…”

“Charles please…” she whimpered, hands now grabbing at one that was trailing along her inner thigh. “St-taaaaapppp.”

“I daresay the business hour is over now, and we have a little catching up to do.”

“You must be joking.” She gasped against the nibble to her neck.

He gave a little thrust from behind as his fingers lifted the bottom hem of her skirt and began trailing up her leg. “Does it feel like I’m joking?” he tone deepened, making her instantly wet. Oh sweet Jesus I’ve created a monster….

“We can’t…it’s against…the rules…” she panted between breaths as his fingers slid into her and teased her clit. A shudder rippled through her, telling him he had found that perfect spot. He leaned her towards her desk, her hands immediately bracing herself against the cherry wooden structure, legs easing apart ever so slightly. “God damn you…” she cursed with pleasure, unable to bring herself to stop him.

“God can damn me after I’ve had you.” His teeth clamped onto her neck, releasing her hair and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket while his other hand still worked her internally. He leaned over even more as he set the billfold on the desk in front of her. “If you’d be so kind….” He indicated to the fold of leather and what resided within.

“Are…you...serious?” her voice sounded incredulous at his audacity.

“Unless you’d rather not?” he teased, delving a little deeper and eliciting a soul sucking gasp from her.

“Okay, okay!” she trembled, fumbling with the wallet and finding the condom with ease. She held up the little pack for him to see. He ordered her to open it in that dark tone that sent a shudder through her on its own, regardless of what his hand was doing. When she faltered he brought his hand up to her throat, arching her back up against him.

“I’d advise you to hurry Missus Young.”

“You’re…being…so evil…right now…ahhh”

It had been a grueling week, the tension needed to be released one way or another….

Finally she had gained enough of her senses to tear open the pack and release the condom. He turned her around to face him, fingers still sliding within her wet folds, eyes electric blue with a fire she’d not seen before. Needing no further prompting, she undid his zipper and delved a hand into his briefs, grasping onto the blazing hot member and slid the protective latex skin over it. No sooner than she had, he removed his fingers and lifted her so her buttocks sat upon her desk, spread her legs as far as they would go in her skirt and entered with a growl in his throat, primal and barbaric.

She cried out from the initial impact, grabbing onto him for dear life as he rocked her along her desktop like a madman. Firmly grabbing a fistful of hair and gasping against his erratic rhythm, she saw stars dance in her vision as he claimed her. It took everything she had to hold in her voice, afraid there was still a lingering employee within earshot. The threat of them being discovered only increased her arousal, no longer caring if their secret was uncovered in this moment.

“I hate you so much right now.” She panted through tears and spasms as he plowed into her; certain she was going to have bruises in new places come morning.

“Funny way you have of showing it love.” He laughed as he took her to the edge and over with a final thrust, a guttural cry emerging from them both in that moment. He leaned his head against her chest, listening for her breathing as he continued to hold her, feeling the tremors rattle her arms and legs. As he straightened his stance her hand reared back and connected with his cheek, leaving a sting and pink blossoming welt against his skin before she grabbed his tie and thrust her tongue into his mouth, claiming him with vigor.

When she broke the kiss she glared at him with those dark eyes and for once, sent chills down his spine. “You…insane…sonofabitch…” she growled. “Save that for the apartment.”

“As you wish.” He smirked.
…………………………….

The drive back to his apartment was entertaining of a different nature, for while Samara was giving him the silent treatment, he knew under that bravado she had wanted him just as bad as he had with her, and that he had caught her unawares and taken control. Her voice and her body had not been in sync and left her vulnerable to his whims, to which he devilishly exploited.

They had quickly adjusted their clothing, disposed of the evidence to their passionate endeavor in a wadded bundle of tissue, and slipped through the building interior within a reasonable time of exiting on a Friday. She squealed tires as they exited the parking lot and swung into traffic with just a little more force than necessary. Charlie had a firm hold of the “oh shit” handle and kept his remarks to himself.

“I can’t believe you did that.” She exclaimed under her breath.

Honestly, he couldn’t believe he’d done that either. He’d only originally intended to tease her but something within him took control unlike anything he’d ever felt in his whole life, but there was no way she’d ever believe that. Let her think I meant it from the start, she’ll only stay mad for so long…

“Consider it my response to Monday.” He replied flippantly, just to see her ears redden at the reminder of her brazen surprise attack on him.

‘Oh, so that’s how he wants to play….’ She thought with a snarky tone in her head. ‘Fine then, we’ll play….’

“Well then I guess you’ve used up your sex privileges for tomorrow.” She sighed nonchalantly, letting the steering wheel slide under her fingers as she made the turn to his complex. From the corner of her eye she caught his wide eyed response before quickly composing himself.

“That’s fine.” He quipped, arms crossed. “I already had another activity in mind to get my blood pumping. One I’ve been doing for quite some time.”

She stopped the car with just a little jerk, jostling him from his semi-relaxed position as the vehicle braked in the slot. “Oh please tell me you’re not…”

He burst out in laughter. “Fencing Bunty, I meant fencing!” His infectious laughter took its toll on her, embarrassed chuckles escaping her throat as she brought a hand to her face trying to mask them. She playfully smacked his arm before regaining her composure.

“It’s been years since I’ve attended a fencing match… Would you mind if I came to watch?”

“Y-you really want to?” he stammered, caught off guard by her request.

“Unless you’d rather not have an opportunity to show off?” she teased with a little wave of her hand.

“I’d like that. But you should be aware that Eva might be there…”

“Eh, I don’t care.” She shrugged. “Worst that could happen is that she has yet another rude greeting for me.”

“What happened between you two?” he inquired, hand at the handle, ready to go if she declined to answer.

Sam released a sigh and adjusted her glasses. “She just never approved. Felt I was an embarrassing choice to take on the family name. Made it clear from the start that I wasn’t good enough. Needless to say, it put a wedge between her and Ben. His family didn’t have faith in us, I hate to admit it but they were right.”

“But that was his fault.”

She cast her eyes at him. “Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I did have a hand in my marriage failing Charles.” He saw the return of the hurt in her dark orbs. She still had not forgiven herself. “You know how I get fixated at work on things, I lose track of time? It seems I still haven’t curbed myself of that little habit.”

“Ah but you see, that’s the beauty of us working together. I can help you with that.”

“Oh like you did today?” she scoffed. “You know we can’t do that in the office.”

“Alright, yes, I did take that too far.” He confessed.

She tucked some hair behind her ear. “Though…I am astounded you even went through with that…”

He saw that pink tint to her face and knew her so-called anger was merely a front to hide how turned on she still was over it. Reaching over for her hand, he gave her a sheepish smile, those blue eyes twinkling with boyish charm. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he purred, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles.

“Just tell me when.” She answered, fighting that penetrating gaze of his and what it was doing to her. She allowed him to grace her knuckles with a gentleman’s kiss before departing the vehicle and making his way to his apartment. The entire drive back to her own was spent with a smile she couldn’t wipe off her face.
………………………….

Saturday morning woke with a different sense of self than the week prior. Oh how so much had changed since then. Amazing how far ago that week seemed to now, like it was months away.

Sam woke; a smile already on her face. How long had it been since THAT had happened? After reaching for and setting her glasses in place her phone was in her hand, wallpaper now changed to the image of Bowser, sitting like a good boy with just the tip of his tongue out and a gleam in his eye. He was too cute to not have his own Instagram account or become the fuzzy face for another canine food brand.

She was starting to love that dog; in fact, she was utterly convinced she already was. He was a plump black and white ball of fuzz and sass. A little canine cupid that had literally lassoed her, preventing her escape and bringing that handsome hunk of a human along for the ride, as if he had planned it all along. Would they have even interacted at the market otherwise? Would Charlie and her have continued on their own paths and passed each other by?

Had Saturday night merely been the product of a dog’s whim?

Not that she and Charlie weren’t on some sort of cosmic collision course. Given that they had tried avoiding each other all last week which prompted Lucy to lock them in a room together, and then them trying to avoid each other at the farmer’s market which had set Bowser on her heels she was utterly convinced now that they were fated to meet.

Meet yes, whatever they ended up as was purely up to them. First as co-workers and then as friends, now lovers…he came like a lightning bolt out of the blue. Just thinking of him now sent her heart racing. She couldn’t wait to see him, their little excursion set several hours from now and yet there was literally nothing else she wanted to do except see him, touch him, smell him…

Lust: thirsty for some of that delicious Welsh water?

Sam merely hummed.

Lust: you should be aware of what you’ve awakened in him, that lad has lava in his veins

‘Oh I am well aware….’

Lust: you’re absolutely hot and ready and you just woke up, you slut, lol

‘Thank god he has a stash of condoms, though I probably need to stock up here too’

Lust: oooh you naughty girl

‘Naughty but cautious. I’m not ready for motherhood yet.’

Sam sat up and stretched. She still needed to check a few things regarding the Ellesmere project before Monday, just to have that security of knowing that section of code was perfected. Shucking off the blanket, she made her way to the bathroom and took a quick hot shower. Dried and dressed she sauntered downstairs and brewed herself a cup of coffee and pulled up her laptop. Upon arriving home yesterday she had plugged the USB stick into the computer and began her analytical review of the code, stopping to make herself dinner and not having it in her to continue.

Her phone pinged with a text, drawing her attention. She opened it to see an image of Charlie, head on his pillow, Bowser curled up against his chest but aware of the camera and flicking his tongue out. An adorable morning selfie. The message underneath read: Morning beautiful, from your Welsh boys.

A smile crinkled her eyes, cheeks turning pink.

She texted back: Hello handsome, I’m currently checking some work material. I was thinking of hitting the grocery store after your fence club, we can pick out something for dinner. Movie and cuddles later?

CJ: I love the idea, especially if it involves cuddles.

SY: we’ll see if cuddles lead to anything else if you behave >_<

CJ: I’ll be on my best behavior. Would you like to meet at the Daily Grind?

She thought about that for a moment. In a way, wouldn’t it be like announcing their relationship in front of Dee and Link? Not that she’d have to worry about either one of them running to her father about it and causing trouble. If they didn’t meet at the coffee shop, then she’d be picking him up at his apartment, and the possibility of bumping into THEM. She still wasn’t ready to see either one of the couple until she had sorted out her feelings.

SY: are we going to make it look like a casual bump-in to each other thing, or are we not hiding our relationship from them?

CJ: I didn’t realize the implications at first, we don’t have to make anything known…though I would be shocked if either of them don’t put 2 and 2 together.

SY: we won’t have to worry, neither one of them has the time to go out of their way to spread gossip, let alone would even want to. Dee already expressed her thoughts about the two of us. And Link…well, as much as I’d hate to make it seem like I’m rubbing salt into a wound…it’s probably for the best to make it known.

CJ: can you say that with 100% certainty that he isn’t going to try something?

Sam inhaled a breath, glanced at the line of code on her computer screen, scrolled down a few clicks to a new line and then returned to her phone. It was enough time to conjure up a response.

SY: he is not going to jeopardize his job for the sake of exacting some kind of revenge, if that’s what you mean. He knows we’ve run our course.

CJ: the two of you talked it over? When?

For a moment, Sam wasn’t sure if she was pleased or irritated by the little show of jealousy emitting from that message. She had to remind herself that she was his first, so naturally he’d have it in him, regardless of them already committing to each other.

SY: if you really must know, it was at the hospital. We said our goodbyes to each there.

A heavy thud pulled in her chest at the reminder of that night. When it seemed like everything she held dear, and everyone she had ever cared about was somehow entangled in a wild snare, being plucked by the Sisters of Fate. Everything she had known had come to a head, been turned on its head, and then flipped inside out right in front of her. Charlie and her ex-husband being next door neighbors. Charlie knowing about Ruminate, about their relationship, his confrontation with Benjamin… Charlie and Eva acquainted through their sport, Eva’s continued harsh nature towards her…seeing Benjamin in that condition much like she once was…

A little droplet plopped onto the phone screen, surprising her. She brought a hand to her eye, her fingertips coming away wet. That terribly emotional day. Someday, she’ll be able to recall it without the overwhelming rush of convoluted emotions and revelations. Today was still too soon.

CJ: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Of course you did. . . . I overheard part of it, and then I left.

SY: is that why you left?

Her hands trembled just slightly enough to be undeniable in her anxiety, not sure the answer was something she wanted to hear.

What she was truly not expecting, was her phone to ring.

………………………….

When he woke and reached for his phone, his first thought was of her. Much like she had been his final thought once he had laid his head to the pillow the night before. Having Bowser’s warm little body was no substitute for the urge to lay beside her, his arm draped over her side, her back and his chest met in a warm embrace…

Smiling at the thought, he turned on the camera and switched to selfie mode, something he’d only done a few times when sending his mother a recent image of him, and sometimes Bowser. No need for a cheesy grin and a snoring dog, his face reflected perfectly just how he felt inside. This would’ve been the face she’d seen had she spent the night.

It didn’t surprise him that she had used the remaining hours of Friday to touch up on some work and was continuing that this morning, but he was pleased she had suggested dinner and a movie, even more so when she was implying there’d be more to that. When the texts circulated on the subject of Lincoln, he couldn’t resist his own Jealously from rising. There had been something in his first meeting with him that had nagged in the back of his mind, though why at first he couldn’t say, not until that night at the bar when it became abundantly clear. Though it was a nasty shock to the system finding out that they had been lovers, he had no place to judge her life’s decisions, whomever they were with.

Lincoln had been close to the mark with his accusation of their relationship, though his words were thrown in anger and meant to hurt, just as he was. He could only hope that the week had given him time to cool his head. Today would be another test of their friendship, if he could handle her moving on with another man. If Benjamin could, surely Lincoln could as well.

Already filled with trepidation at that prospect, he had not counted on her insecurity to pursue that question again. But how to condense that into a simple text seemed beneath him. He rolled onto his back and inhaled. Then he pressed the call button.

He heard the trill of the ringtone twice before she picked it up, breath caught in her lungs as she waited for him.

“Samara…”

“Yes Charles?” she whispered; her voice weak from holding her breath.

“That night…that night I worried that you seeing Benjamin-I mean Marshall-in that way…would somehow bring you two back together.” He confessed in a slow delivery, picking up the pace as he went. “I worried that your conversation with Lincoln was going to lead you back to him despite what he’d done…I worried that I’d had my chance and lost it, and I was trying to convince myself that I’d been a foolish boy crushing on a girl I had no chance with.”

He wiped his eye as a silent tear escaped, continuing his confessional.

“I do not just casually feel things, whether about people or objects, but when I do, they become everything to me. It scared me, how quickly I knew I was becoming attracted to you. I never have become so involved with another before and I thought it was only due to you helping build my confidence up…but then, you felt it too…”

“I did…” she replied slowly.

“But I’ll never run away again. Not now; nor in a week, a month, or in a year.”

A heavy silence followed, only broken by the sound of light breaths between the two of them.

“I-I believe I understand what you’re saying.” She said; her voice thick from almost cracking. “And I…” she paused and swallowed. “I don’t want you to.”

“Good.” He responded with a solid one syllable. “So…I’ll see you at the Grind at 2:45pm?”

“At two forty-five.” She echoed with a returning cheer in her voice.

Another lingering silence passed; her thumb almost ready to press the phone icon button before she heard his husky whisper. “Don’t work too hard princess.”

………………………….

The whoosh of the front glass doors and rush of air conditioning sent goose bumps down her arms as she entered the familiar haunt of hers, eyes immediately searching out her handsome boyfriend at a table off to the side of the register. His head perked up from the book he was reading, the chime of the bell taking his attention from the novel, his hand coming up in a little wave.

Before she could take a step in her direction she heard her name called in greeting by Dee, causing Link to turn around from the step stool he was on. He waved and climbed down, as he was only just a few inches shy of the objects on the top shelf. Even if Delilah wasn’t afraid of heights, she wouldn’t have been able to touch those canisters. Unfortunately there wasn’t anywhere else to put them.

Sashaying her glorious curviness up to Sam, Dee wrapped her in a hug and whispered in her ear. “Your delicious slice of Welsh cake is here.”

The brunette giggled. “I know.” She replied.

Dee immediately caught that tone. She winked when she broke the hug. “So, what will it be today?”

“Actually, I’m just here for him.” Sam stated; eyes twinkling as her gaze had never left him. It wasn’t so much as an announcement, but it nonetheless caught the attention of the two blond men. Charlie was beaming a shy smile as Link jerked his neck from Sam to him and back again, getting the message loud and clear.

Shutting his book with a delicate yep purposeful one-handed snap, he rose to his feet and collected his bag from the other occupant seat. With slow deliberate steps he strolled over to Sam, that gleam in his eye warning her that she was in for something up his sleeve, Dee practically bouncing with excitement as the distance between them shortened until there was none, as he cradled her face with his empty hand, the one holding the book pressed against the small of her back, claiming her lips for all to see.

A collective “oooooohhhh” was murmured among the onlookers, who then went back to their Lattes and Panini’s and cellphone games. Link cleared his throat and adverted his head with a clenched jaw, absentmindedly wiping the countertop. Despite how uncomfortable he was at seeing this, he wasn’t going to run off to the back room and sulk. He had seen this coming. Being right was no conciliation though.

“Ready darling?” Charlie purred his accent strongly, knowing it made her knees weak. Sam could only nod, one hand resting against a pectoral. He turned to Dee who was practically picking her jaw up from the floor. “Lovely to see you again, sorry we can’t stay.”

Dee waved her hand, making that “pish-posh” notion, struggling to form words as she just released a myriad of throaty sounds and watched them go, suddenly questioning her sexual identity. She turned around to find her faithful employee just focusing entirely too much on scrubbing clean the area around the register. A tiny bittersweet grape of pity lodged in her throat for him, but she’d never seen Sam as happy as she just had been and knew that this new man in her life would continue to make her feel as such.
………………………….

“Well, I think that was made crystal clear.” Sam released a pent-up breath as she adjusted behind the wheel of her car.

Charlie slid his seatbelt into place and looked at her. “Was I not supposed to make it so?”

She pulled out the parking lot and merged with the traffic. “I just hope I’m not hurting him any worse than before.”

“If I recall correctly, he was the one accusing us of doing exactly what we are only NOW doing. So if anyone has brought more pain unto themselves, it is him. Forgive me if I sound a little too callous.” He replied with a cross of his arms.

“No pity for your fallen rival?” she joked, slipping into another lane.

“Rivals.” Charlie corrected. “And no.”
……………………………

At the sight of the gym, Sam swallowed. She mentally shook off the prickly tingles of past memories involving this place and chided herself for feeling that all these years later. During the drive Charlie asked her if she needed directions, to which she softly declined and continued weaving through the traffic. He made no further inquiries. She turned the conversation table on him, asking how his driving lessons had gone the whole week.

Finally dealt a subject he felt comfortable discussing, despite the anxiety it first presented him, he recounted the absolute bone chilling fear of being alone in a car with her father, having no idea what their destination was at first. It made her laugh, picturing it perfectly. Of course her father had done that as part of his test, playing the imposing CEO figure to the lowly assistant of the manager. Samuel was going to test him in ways he had no idea he could be tested.

At least he’d be in his element here, where she could see him shine, knowing that she was merely an observer to something he already was passionate about. She knew how chilly the gym’s AC could be, so she had brought along her long black cardigan to throw over her bare arms. Her outfit for today was a simple wide strap tank top in a luscious plum and a calf length paisley patterned multicolored skirt. Breezy and breathable but enough to cover her skin.

Upon entry she followed his lead, not quite remembering where the fencing classroom was but was not surprised it had not changed location. While it wasn’t a hugely popular sport and thus only needed the smaller space, it had been making a mainstream following partially in due to the cinematic flare for fancy swordfights in recent films. Little kids were growing up wanting to become Jedi masters and pirates, begging their parents for swords and lessons.

There was certainly a larger crowd in here than she expected, but that actually made her feel relieved. She wouldn’t be sticking out so much as an onlooker not with parents filling in random spots on the benches to watch their children. Some people looked to be members of the gym, using this as a rest stop to catch their breaths from their work-outs and fancying a little show.

Sam found herself sitting near a mother of one of the students, who beamed with overflowing pride at her son and spoke freely, engaging with Sam and taking her focus for a moment that she hadn’t noticed Eva’s entrance, but the woman did. The instant curl of her lip told Sam that even now, years later, some things had not changed.

“That woman…” the mother snarled under her breath.

Sam just barely turned enough to steal a glance, finding her former sister-in-law bee-lining straight to Charlie, barking that they had “unfinished business”.

“She’s beaten everyone here-except him.” The woman continued.

Turning back to the woman she asked for more details. The lady introduced herself as Betty and gladly filled her bench companion in on some of the outlandish behaviors Eva Lawson had displayed in the circuit. Sam could just feel her inner desire to stand up for her boyfriend rise as she watched how they went at each other with far more determination than other pairings. Eva trying to dominate-as usual-and Charlie making her work for it. There was that little nudge in the back of her mind from the green eyed monster, lurking in the entrance of its cave, observing…

At the sound of the bell, everyone took a break to fetch water and towel off. Charlie shucked his mask off and came bounding up to Sam and her surprised bench mate. “Sorry you had to see that.” He said with chagrin, seeing the other woman flush in the face.

“I had hoped she would’ve chilled a bit by now…but nope, still as prickly as a cactus.” Sam laughed. That melodic twinkling from genuine enjoyment, her signature laugh, unmistakable even all these years later, had caught Eva’s ear.

Clenching her water bottle hard enough to break it, Eva turned her head and found the last person she expected to ever see in her gym again, laughing, with HIM of all people. Why was she here? She stormed over to them, briskly interrupting their conversation.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” she demanded with emphasis to each word.

Sam smiled. “Ah, Eva. Nice to see you again. Still as delightful as ever.”

The smooth delivery of that polite tone only rankled more on Eva’s nerves. “You made it clear you wanted nothing to do with any reminders of Benji, so what? You have nothing better to do than hang around here?”

Charlie had turned to put his two cents in but Sam beat him to the punch. “Still believing that everything I do revolves around you?” she chortled. “Looks like you need a new hobby besides this.”

Betty couldn’t contain her stifled giggle.

“Looks like you can’t take the hint, you’re not wanted here.” Eva gritted through her teeth.

This time, Charlie did step forward. “I want her here.” His tone was firm and dangerous, eyes set with a hard look. “And I want you to back off.”

She pointed a finger up at him. “You back off Chuck, this is between us.”

“There is no US; you made it clear I was never welcomed by your family. And frankly, I’m glad for it, just look what I would’ve been stuck with for a sister-in-law. But I’ll happily remind you that your brother is only alive because we were there when he collapsed, and he at least had the courtesy to say thank you.”

Betty was quite entertained by this little drama unfolding before her eyes.

Eva pushed Charlie aside and got right in Sam’s face, finger pushing on her chest. “You were never WORTHY of my brother, a frail weakling like you who couldn’t even satisfy him in bed-no wonder he left you for a real woman!”

Betty gasped. Charlie made a grab for Eva’s arm. And at the same time, Sam’s right hand clenched into a fist, reared back, and slammed into Eva’s nose.

With a sickening crunch, Eva stumbled backwards and Sam wobbled in place, trembling with rage as Charlie picked her up from behind and took firm hold of her right wrist as she tried advancing on her prey again.

“Say that to my face again Eva, go on now!” she shrieked, gathering the attention from everyone else in the room. “Tell me how I’m not worthy of him? If anything, it was him who wasn’t worthy of ME!” She flicked her legs out at Eva, trying to get one last shot as Charlie began retreating with her writhing form in his grasp.

The coach came bounding up, placing his hands out to either woman. “Enough ladies, remember there are children here!” Charlie still held Sam off the floor and pulled her away from the fray as the coach turned to Eva. “Clean out your locker Miss Lawson, you’re done here.”

“What?” she exclaimed, hand holding a brightly pink nose dripping with blood. “That little bitch attacked me!”

Betty stepped forward. “Coach, I saw the whole thing. Lawson got right in her face and put her hands on her first. If anything, that girl defended herself.”

“You heard me Miss Lawson. Get cleaned up and then clean out. You’ve gone too far this time.” The coach’s words were followed by a cacophony of the other members all murmuring at once, some laughing and others expressing their relief that Eva Lawson was no longer going to terrorize their club. He turned around and ordered someone to fetch an ice pack, marching over to where Charlie-who had finally set Sam down-and the mother of one of his students were hovering over her.

“Let me see.” He ordered, gently inserting himself between the onlookers and took hold of Sam’s hand. The row of knuckles were pink and purple, swollen and smeared with a little of Miss Lawson’s own blood. “I’m terribly sorry about that Miss…”

“Young. Sam Young.” She answered.

“As in Young Technologies?” the man asked, surprised. “Wait a minute…oh that’s right…you were once married to her brother.” He recalled now, when Benjamin had tried and failed his hand at fencing. What his sister lacked in compassion he made up for in spades, and was unable to compete professionally. The coach remembered a diminutive little brunette that would sit in on some matches, cheering both Lawson siblings on with enthusiasm.

The ice pack arrived and was placed on her hand, bringing a fresh crop of tears and hisses of pain from her as Charlie stepped forward with an apology. But Coach Whitman dismissed it with a halt of his hand. “Eva’s been trouble long before either of you two arrived and while I made excuses for her behavior due to her talent, I cannot abide by her attacking an unarmed spectator. Not when I’ve lost three clients in the recent years to her.” He turned to Sam. “What happened to our dear Benny boy? Something about a collapse?”

Charlie pulled Coach Whitman aside, leaving Betty to give Sam some motherly attention as he recounted the details in a condensed nugget of information. He followed it by excusing them for an early departure and promised Sam he wouldn’t be long in getting ready. The coach turned to everyone and with some waving and ordering, got everyone back on track to continuing with their practice.

“I’m so glad to have met you.” Betty replied as Sam got to her feet when Charlie returned. “I’d shake your hand, but I think you’ve put it through enough.”

“Thank you Miss Betty. Thanks for sticking up for me.” She sniffled, cradling the now stinging appendage.

“You stuck up plenty for yourself. While I don’t condone violence, that girl had it coming.” The older woman laughed. “Feel free to come back again now that the wicked witch is gone.”

Sam nodded as she was led away by Charlie and tried playing off how bad her hand truly hurt. She was still reeling from her anger and now she wanted to devour something sweet to take her mind off it. With his arm around her he led her out of the gym and towards the car.

“I’m sorry for all this.” She mumbled, fumbling with her left hand to reach for the keys in her right pocket. He simply dove his hand into the cardigan and fished them out, but withheld them.

“I can’t take you anywhere can I? Always getting into fights.” He lightly laughed, trying to turn the mood around. “And here I thought I was the one that’s supposed to be protecting you.”

She stood at the door of her car, hand held for her keys. “Let’s not get into that again. Come on, I just wanna get out of here.” He reluctantly bequeathed the keys back to her, but his observant eyes never wavered at the sight of her knuckles and how the hand trembled. She might have fractured a metacarpal…

The fire coursing through her veins was evident as she jammed the key in the ignition, jerked the gear shaft, and squealed tires out of the parking lot before Charlie could properly buckle. “Iesu Grist!” he shouted, grabbing onto the door for dear life. This madwoman was going to give him cardiac arrest in the worst way possible.

“For the love of God, Samara Young!” he cried out as she weaved between a few cars and exited into the lot of a grocery store. His heart was racing a mile-a-minute, panting with short breaths when she looked over at him with a terrifying glint her in eye. He immediately reached over and forcefully took the keys. “No more driving for you!” he ordered. Then he peered at their surroundings with a perplexed look on his face. “Why are we here?”

“I want chocolate.” She answered with a bone-chilling delivery.
……………………………..

Marshall sat at his desk, preparing to start recording when his phone rang. Exhaling at the sight of his sister’s number he tried to mentally prepare himself for what was coming.

“Hey sis, wh-” he barely even got his greeting out before her voiced boomed in a thunderous rage, causing him to hold the cell away from his ear.

“That crazy ex-wife of yours just broke my fucking nose!”

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly. But she rattled on.

“Right in front of everyone too! And the coach bans ME?”

He had to withhold the snort that almost bubbled out of him, motioning for Monica to come over and eavesdrop as he set it to speaker.

“Where the hell does she get the gall to come off and do this? Especially since she rubbed it in that she saved your dumb ass.”

Monica’s eyebrow twitched at the blatant insult thrown, even while tossing this pity-party for herself; she still couldn’t resist a jab at someone else. Marshall merely took the time to pop his neck and wait until Eva had run out of steam.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” she screamed, causing a distortion in the audio. “SHE PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE!”

Monica covered her mouth to silence the laughter that she wanted to belt out at her boyfriend’s sister’s expense.

“Well, if you’re done screaming, I could talk.” He replied coolly. “Mind you, a conversation like this is bound to get my heart-rate up so please calm down.”

After a second of silence they heard a heavy exhale from her. “Alright fine. I’m calm.” She stated in a falsetto that fooled no one.

“So, what do you expect me to do about this?” he asked, swirling his mouse around idly.

“What do you mean, what are you supposed to do? That woman is your problem; you deal with her before I press charges!”

Marshall and Monica exchange a look between them that clearly said ‘Is she serious?’

“She’s not my problem. If you seem to recall, she saved my “dumb ass” as you put it.” He retorted. “Looks like you’re her problem if she straight up hit you.” Oh how he would’ve love to see that.

“You married the skank!” she shrieked, causing both of them to wince at the high pitch.

“True.” He said. “I did. But we’re also divorced now. And I’m not sure if you know how things like that work, but that means we’re done with each other. So unlike other couples who might actually talk or be friends or even go right back to fucking each other, Sam and I are clearly not one of them. I have no control over what she does.”

Monica patted his shoulder, proud to hear him not only say those words, but also stand up to his sister’s bullying.

“And for your information, Samara Young is not and never has been a skank.” He added in a darker tone. “And if you have any other opinions about my ex-wife I suggest you keep them to yourself, because frankly, I’m fucking tired of it Sis.”

Her overly dramatic scoff and ‘tsk’ over the phone just caused them to roll their eyes. “I see how it is; you’re just sticking up for her because of-”

“Shut up.” Marshall ordered. “For once in your life Eva, shut your mouth. No wonder Sam punched you. Too bad it wasn’t enough to knock some sense into you.” He pressed the END CALL button and sighed wearily, shoulders shaking. His wrist monitor was blinking red. Monica rubbed his shoulders and nuzzled her head next to his.

“What in world do you think got into her?” she asked.

“Which one of them?”

She laughed. “Sam I mean.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “She certainly has changed, hasn’t she?”

Marshall bit his lip, recalling his conversation with Charlie a week ago. There was no denying the strength of conviction when he said he wasn’t going to let her go. Perhaps it wasn’t just him that also felt that way…Whatever the case may be, it was out of his hands, out of his life.
…………………………….

Sam pushed a cart just as furiously as she drove, fueled on pure adrenaline and grabbing randomly at items like a bunch of bananas, a loaf of walnut-free banana bread, chocolate syrup and a bag of chocolate chips before Charlie managed to steer her towards the pharmacy and into the section where braces and wraps were located. He selected a right hand brace and elastic wrap.

“Do you need any pain medication?” he inquired, looking over the selection.

“I’m not sure how much I have left, after nursing my bruise.”

He grabbed a bottle of extra strength and tossed it in, jaw clenched. “Do you have everything you want now?” he glanced at her choices of sweets and worried a certain time of month was coming around the corner…

With a few more selected items tossed into the cart, Sam finally caved in to the pain her hand was putting her through and steered over to the cash register. She didn’t put up any kind of fuss when Charlie took it upon himself to scan everything at the self-checkout, with her just handing over her card as if it was another business as usual situation. As soon as the items were sacked he picked up the package for the arm brace and ripped it open, startling her with that unexpected clean shredding of shiny cardboard and tape in one go. In the next instant, he was gently easing her arm into it and securing the straps in place. She grunted as he pulled the Velcro and wiggled her fingers just a touch. Store employees and customers would shoot a glance and then carry on with their business as he tended to her hand.

“How’s that?” he asked, wiggling her middle finger. He watched her lip quiver and heard her intake of breath. She was definitely hiding her pain.

“I’m fine. You’re making a scene.” She hissed in a low voice, pulling out of his grasp. She had her eyes adverted, not seeing the momentary hurt that crossed his face. He sighed and collected the bags as she started walking ahead. She took fast, angry little steps to her car, grabbing the handle before realizing he had her keys-again.

“You’re not driving.” He clearly stated.

“The hell I’m not. It’s my car.” She spat.

“Wiggle your fingers.” He ordered; watching her eyes widen just a smidge, then narrow in defiance.

“You’re not licensed, or even insured. You getting behind the wheel would be illegal.”

“Better to be driving illegally-for a good reason-than letting an injured and emotional driver behind the wheel. You could very well endanger us.”

Wounded pride flashed over her face at his words, straightening her back and crossing her arms, eyes like daggers. “Excuse me Mr. Perfectly Poised but I’m still not allowing you to drive my car!”

“Perfectly Poised?” he echoed, voice wavering. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to remain this calm after you driving like a bat out of hell and getting hurt? Again. You seem to make a habit of that.”

“Okay, fine. Blame this one on me.” She grumbled. “I did punch the bitch. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to be babied for it.”

He shook his head and growled. “For god sakes woman, it isn’t babying when you have a legitimate injury. This is the third-” he held up three fingers to her face. “Third time that you’ve gotten hurt in front of me. Twice because of me. How do you think that makes me feel?” He set the bags on the engine hood. “While I love your tenacity to prove you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself, you seem to not realize just how much you contradict yourself by doing so. And this latest one you won’t be able to hide with a cardigan. You’ve got a Boxer’s Fracture! Bloody hell Samara, it’s as if you have a death wish or something.”

“Don’t you dare.” She whispered with a stiff sniffle, lips quivering. “Don’t you dare start acting like Link or my brother. I’m tired of everyone telling me what to do with my life.”

The mention of Link sent a little hot ripple down his back, surging down to the hands, now clenched into fists.

“Are you always going to be like this? Always pushing away any offer of assistance? Always having to be right? To have the last word? Is everything going to have to be your way or no way?” he pulled out his phone and brought up the dial pad. “Call a damn cab to take you home, but I’m not giving you these keys.” He shoved the outdated white cased model into her good hand and gathered the bags off the hood, then stormed over to the trunk, opened it and stored them, then closed the lid with an almost slam. He leaned against the bumper with crossed arms, seething with frustration.

Sam felt her eyes water but quickly wiped them before pressing the number she had memorized long ago from before when she was comfortable with driving on her own. Given their location and destination, the dispatcher informed her it wouldn’t be long, they had a driver nearby. After disconnecting she took a moment to collect her breath.

“D-do you still have that number for the tow service?” she asked, trying to remain composed.

“Yes, I saved it.” He pushed off the bumper and came around, accepting his phone back and flicked through his contact list. He turned his phone around and showed it to her. “I saved it should there be any trouble that needed reporting.”

“Would you recommend using them again?” she inquired, wiping at her eyes, feeling weird that she didn’t have her glasses on today and therefore had not much reason to touch her face.

“I would. I’ll call them.” He replied softly, already losing his resolve to remain angry with her. He turned his back to make the call, unable to see those big doe eyes of hers looking at him like that. He tread back over to his spot at the bumper and waited with crossed arms, jaw set firmly as they stood at opposite ends of the Mercedes, surprised when the tow arrived before the taxi.

Even though it was her car, her keys, and her address, he approached the driver and gave the man the details needed to take her car back to her apartment. It was quite apparent to him now just how important it was for him to attain his license, as they were both right: she was unfit to drive and he wasn’t legally eligible to do so, regardless of the safety factor.

Heaven forbid Mr. Young find out he drove her vehicle uninsured, unlicensed, and even more so because she was injured. They were going to have to somehow explain this come Monday…

Sliding into the back seat of their Uber’s car, they at first faced away from each other, heads turned to their own windows, arms crossed, huffing out sighs every now and then to their driver’s dismay. He just turned the radio on and hoped the music would soothe the tension. After having to make a sharp turn to dodge a driver who suddenly slowed down, Charlie’s arm flung across Sam to prevent her flying into the passenger seat and held her firmly as their cabbie cursed and corrected.

“You a’ight back there?” he called out.

“We’re fine.” Charlie answered, eyes set on Sam’s, silently inquiring to her, to which she only nodded.

“Good gol almighty some people need to fricking learn to drive!” he commented, getting them back on the right exit and to her apartment intact. Charlie, still having her credit card from the grocery store, handed it over to pay the fare and came around to Sam’s door, her right hand unable to grasp the latch. Swallowing a bitter pill of pride she took his offered hand as she gathered her skirt to exit the car.

They entered the lobby of the first floor, a receptionist greeting Sam and handing over her keys that had arrived not too long before them. She hid her arm in the sleeve of her cardigan, taking them with her left hand and giving her thanks before she and Charlie secured an elevator. After the steel doors closed they turned to each other.

“I’m sorry I acted like a bitch.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Then they shared a smile and a little laugh at their overlapping apologizes. Charlie pulled her towards him and then pressed her against the elevator wall, lips fervently seeking hers out. “You were incredibly sexy today Bunty.” His hands slid over her tiny wrists, pinning them to her sides just as the bell chimed and the doors opened. A growl in his throat, he picked her up and carried her all the way to her penthouse door, pressing her back against the frame, pulling her cardigan off her shoulders and nipping them.

“Open the goddamn door first.” She whispered, trying to shuck the open sweater off and catch her breath.

“As you wish milady.” He obeyed with a grin, twisting the knob and taking her into his arms once more, kicking the door shut behind him before taking two steps and cornering her on her stairs.

“Charl-”

Gently only when it came to handling her right arm, he stripped the cardigan off her, then lifted the dark purple tank top up and over her head, revealing a simple white lace bra. His teeth were at her neck in an instant, eliciting a cry from her as he made his claim. Her hands grabbed his buttoned shirt, pulling it up and raking her nails across his abdomen. He brought one hand up over his back and yanked it off in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. The skirt was next, his hands at the waistline, pleased that it was elastic, it was easy to shimmy off her hips and under her butt and then down her legs. It and her shoes went together as he flung them to the side.

“Oh my god Charles, what’s gotten into you?” she gasped as he made quick work of undoing his belt and zipper, her bandaged hand unable to do the task.

“The fact that I want to be in you…” he growled into her ear as his hand trailed around her panties. “And you have been frustratingly feisty all day my little warrior princess.” His other hand held her left wrist against a step, refusing to let her have her way.

“Then why are you pinning me down?” she whined, wanting her hands on him but unable to get barely more than a scratch of her nails as her right hand was too immobilized.

“Upstairs or here?” his husky voice sent shivers through her as he teased the wet folds hidden behind their cotton barrier. “Decide.”

“Uh-uh…..up…” she panted, barely able to get the word out. It was enough though. He stood up, his pants coming off and dropped in a wrinkled heap before he scooped her in his arms and held her hips as she wearily walked backwards with him guiding her steps. They made it to the second floor before her back was shoved against the nearest wall, her legs lifted and wrapped around him as he delved his tongue into her throat, while her arms went around his neck for support.

Her right hand might have been limited in its movement, but she could still rake her fingers through his hair as he held her. She felt his member jab against her, their underwear the only barrier between their bodies joining. She pushed on his chest, breaking their kiss so she could take a breath.

“Stop teasing me already.” She begged.

“I haven’t begun teasing you.” He chuckled. He released her legs, setting her back down to her feet, sliding her panties down and he took to his knees. Oh my goodness, he’s not going to do that….is he?

Kisses starting from her belly trailed down as he ran his thumb across the delicate hairs of her mound, feeling the tremble begin in her thighs. Two fingers slid in easily as he flashed a wicked grin, his teeth nipping her inner thigh as he moved them within her. He lifted her right thigh up and placed it on his shoulder, her hands braced against the wall as he achingly teased her with terribly slow movements, watching as she bucked and twitched in anticipation.

“Would you call this teasing?” he asked before flicking his tongue across her naval.

“Yes!” she yelped.

He cocked his head to the side, delighted with her response. “And what if I was to stop?”

“Oh you wouldn’t dare….” She rasped. “Don’t you dare.”

“Or what?” he mocked playfully, his fingers pinching at her pearl, causing her legs to shudder and nearly give out.

“Charles!” she admonished, clawing at the wall. “Why are you doing this to me?” Her left hand shot down and grabbed a fistful of hair and twisted, not so much as receiving a grunt out of him.

“Now promise me Samara….” He replied lightly, unfazed by the desperate attempt to exact some sense of control.

“What?” she gasped as she felt herself grow wetter by the second.

“Promise me you’ll stop being so foolish.”

“Foolish?” she exhaled with confusion, letting go of his hair.

He stopped moving his fingers and backed away from her wet core to stare her in her confused eyes. “You know damn well what I mean Samara Young.” He glowered. “Promise you’ll stop refusing my help, especially with an injury.”

“You’re doing all this…to punish me?” she cried.

“It’s only punishment if you don’t like it.” He replied with a twinkle in his gleaming crystal blue eyes before flicking his fingers within her once more, causing a jolt through her system.

“Alright!” she shouted, slapping the wall. “Alright, you win! Do whatever you want, just do something!”

He chuckled before sliding his tongue into her entrance, finally giving her the satisfaction she’d been begging for, her thighs stiffening so she wouldn’t squeeze his head as he worked her sensitive bud. It was a combination of his tongue and his fingers working in tandem, exploring this new territory with energetic curiosity that brought her left knee to buckle, her leg no longer able to support her fully.

He felt her body waver and set her right leg down to support herself as he made one last thrust of his tongue, bursting her self-control and the floodgate as her liquid desire trailed down her thigh. The escaping moan from her mouth combined with her arousal was sending goose bumps down his back, surprised that he had accomplished such a thing with no prior experience.

She was completely at his whim, had she not told him to do whatever he wanted?

Running his tongue cross her belly button, she flinched with a squeal as it tickled; his wet trail turning back into nips of her flesh and then kisses as he rose to his feet and nuzzled her neck. His hands slipped behind her, unclasping her bra. The straps slid off her shoulders and down her arms, only he had to help ease it off her right hand with the arm brace and its catchy Velcro straps ready to snag anything it came into contact with.

“Are you ready to continue?” he asked, nose tracing the shell of her ear as he nipped her lobe. “I’m not through with you yet.”

“You better not be Jones.” She laughed, tossing her arms around his neck. “I want to know what you want with me.”

“You’ll know in time my dear.” He teased with soft kisses to her neck and jaw, coming up to claim her lips. “Can’t you be patient?”

“Stop your teasing and get it over with, haven’t I been through enough today?” she smirked, running her nails along his skin to hear that delicious hiss escape. He took firm hold of her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing his loins against her, teasing her with the motion of his hips. “Charles…” she growled. “Stop that.”

“Are you sure you really want me to stop?” he chuckled.

“God damn it, just fuck me.” She ordered, fed up with the word games.

“As you wish.” He replied with wolfish delight as he released her hands, they immediately flew to his briefs, slipping them down his lean hips. He stepped out of them, her hands already teasing the tip, thumb running circles across the head as their bodies pressed together. He needed no coaxing, he knew what she wanted. He wanted it too, to feel her completely.

He took hold of her left thigh this time, lifting it upon his hip as he slid himself into her, a warm wet welcome as their bodies were now as one. He shifted his hips into her driving himself further as she clung onto him, nails latching into his back as he thrust her against the wall with a resounding thud. “O fy duw.” He gritted through his teeth as claimed her body with his own.

Her breath hitched with each thrust, the cries increasing in pitch until she’d reached that silent scream, toes curling as he drove her into ecstasy. Sweat dripped down their skin, their chests sliding against each other with every move. Her claw marks down his back stung with the sweat dripping into them but he did not relent. He was certain she’d have bruises but it was a fair exchange for the blood drawn. One could only hope they didn’t punch a hole in the wall as he gave one last hefty thrust into her, holding her tight as she screamed in what would’ve surely gotten the cops called on them if they had been at his apartment.

The entirety of her body shook uncontrollably, spasms rolling from her every few seconds. He held her through them, catching his breath. Exhausted, she flung her head against his chest and sobbed as her body continued with its aftershocks, making it difficult for her to catch her breath.

“Breathe with me love.” He whispered, running his fingers through her damp hair. He knew the inhalers were either above or below them, a journey he didn’t want to make just yet. Not just yet, if he could avoid it, he wanted to hold her just a bit longer, even though his own legs were now being tested, tremors rippling through his muscles. Fencing and sex sure made for a great workout.

“Can you…set me down…now?” she asked in a delicate purr, almost childlike in nature.

“Of course.”

Once on her own feet she wobbled for a moment, regaining her equilibrium in slow seconds as she felt her way down the hall to the bathroom. He took to leaning against the railing for support, overwhelmed with what he’d just put his body through.

In the bathroom she splashed water on her face, washing up after relieving herself. The whole time she was flushed and reeling with the fact that she’d just had unprotected sex for the first time in years…and how incredible it felt, almost like doing it for the first time, again. ‘Didn’t I just tell myself I wasn’t ready for motherhood? What if I get pregnant?’ She buried her face in her hands, trying to not let the fears of What If get to her and ruin this moment. She grabbed the bathrobe hanging off the back of the door and wrapped it around herself, suddenly vulnerable.

When she exited the bathroom she was surprised Charlie wasn’t there, nor were his briefs. Perplexed, she first cast a look down, still seeing all their discarded clothing where they’d been thrown. Then she heard the toilet upstairs and him walking. She came around to the second flight of stairs and met him at her doorway.

An awkward silence passed between them until he took her right hand.

“Would you like to rest?” he asked to her relief.

With a simple nod, led by the hand, she laid down on the side she had deemed “hers” which was closest to the entrance as he took residence beside her on the bathroom side of the bed, snuggled in against her side. Her bandaged hand rested across her stomach, his right underneath, teasing her pinky with his forefinger.

“Sleep. If you want, I can collect the groceries later.” He assured her as she closed her eyes.

“Thank you, I don’t want anyone down there to risk seeing my arm and talking about it. The concierge knows my family; they might call my father out of concern.”

“What are we going to tell him anyway?” he was genuinely concerned.

“Let’s not think about right now. We have all day Sunday to figure it out.” She replied, stifling a yawn.

“You have all day Sunday, I’ll have to make it back by mid-afternoon to get Bowser.”

“That’s sweet of your landlady to watch him.”

A trickle of unease ran along his spine. “Uh…actually…Ms. Whipple wasn’t available to do that…so he’s with my….neighbor.”

Samara made a light smacking sound with her mouth. “Oh.”

“Does that bother you? I mean, they have a dog of their own, so he has a little companion to play with.”

She inhaled. “No. He’s just babysitting your dog, but I do still wonder what things you two have talked about…”

He released a light chuckle. “Of course you are, but honestly, other than him telling me how bad he screwed up and how wonderful you are, we haven’t said much. I didn’t want him to get the idea that he and I were somehow friends and frankly, this whole situation is beyond my normal. I’m not comfortable discussing how I feel for you, with anyone else but you.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I do have one question though: did anything he say have any influence on what you felt for me? Or convince you to ask me out?”

“No.” he replied, pulling himself just a little closer to her. “I knew what I wanted and when, and I did it right there and then. That Saturday in the market…I don’t know how it happened, but I had the courage to finally come out and say it.”

“Even though I looked like a grungy misfit from a 90’s flick?” she joked.

He kissed her temple. “Especially with you looking like that.”

She basked in the warmth of his embrace and sweet words, until that little nag in the back of her mind pushed its way to the front and out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“What we did earlier…I haven’t done that…in years…” she stumbled over the words, quite embarrassed with her behavior. “I know what you said about your upbringing, and I d-don’t want you to…uh…oh god…” she covered her face and rolled away from him, only to feel him sit up and place a hand on her shoulder.

“Samara…I’m not going to abandon you, especially if today’s actions bring forth a new life into the world. We’ll go back to using protection; we’ll even add it to the contract if we need to. And I’ll stand by your decision, whatever you make.”

“What?” she asked, uncovering her face and craning her neck to look up at him.

His hand trailed to her stomach. “This is your body. And though I may be the only one you’re involved with, even with a ring on your finger I would still not force you to go through with something you weren’t ready for.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “What if it was what you wanted? And I took that away from you?”

He cupped her cheek. “What I want I already have. Everything else is just a bonus. And if you decided you couldn’t take on that other role in life, who am I to insist you do?”

“So even…even if it wasn’t just a medical reason…I just up and decide ‘No’ you’d stand by that?”

He nodded. “We can always adopt dogs. We can have furry children and spoil them rotten. Rescue every poor mutt in the shelter and love them unconditionally.” His smile was too infectious to ignore, even if it thinly masked a fear underneath the surface.

“I’ve…never had this conversation with anyone before…I didn’t think I ever would.”

“I certainly didn’t foresee it happening today.” He laughed; the truth of the matter humorous. “But if I may be so bold to say…there’s no other woman I’d rather have be the mother of my children.”

The words were comforting as he settled in beside her, arm draped over her side as he spooned up to her back, his face nuzzling her neck for a moment before resting it against her shoulder blade. He felt her body begin to ease, loosening in form until her rhythmic breathing followed a strong yawn. His only lament was that he couldn’t see her face, but it was just for now, he’d still be here when she’d wake from their nap.
…………..

Chapter Text

Saturday evening had been spent with a home cooked meal, a movie and cuddling on the couch as promised. Charlie tended to her hand with another ice pack and helped her slip into her pajamas. They lay curled in each other’s arms in her bed, a light conversation passing between them.

“I’m only upset by the fact that you somehow misconstrue everyone’s offer to help as babying.”

“Every time I got sick, it was always severe. Even the simple flu would send me to the hospital. My family was constantly walking a tightrope, worried that ‘would this trip be the last one?’ and they would do anything and everything to play off the severity of it for my sake. It was always with gifts, whatever I wanted to eat, whatever I wanted to do when I got home…They didn’t want me to know how close I’d come to dying-again.”

“So….that happened more than once?”

She nodded, lips firmly pressed together. “I don’t want to put you through that.” She whispered.

“I accepted all of you, and I’ll take whatever life throws at me.” He replied, tucking some hair behind her ear. “So no more guilting yourself for your health.”

“You say that now….just wait until it happens…”

He pressed his finger to her lips. “None of that now.” He admonished lightly. “You’ve been doing well since then. You know your body better than anyone else.”

“I screwed up big time didn’t I?” she remarked, indicating her braced and wrapped hand. “I can’t even dress myself, let alone drive…how am I going to manage?”

He purred in his throat and pulled her closer. “You could just have your assistant help you with all that.” He smirked, causing her to smile. “And I’d gladly do it for free.”

She playfully smacked his arm with her left hand before curling her fingers around his bicep and burying her face in his chest. It dawned on her how easily she was giving in to snuggling, cuddling, and always finding some way to remain in physical contact with him. Her body craved to feel the warmth he provided as if she had awoken from a long winter slumber with no coat, and he was the blazing bonfire thawing her frozen limbs.

“So…warm…” she drawled, dozing off.

“Gorffwys yn dda fy nghariad.” He whispered. 
………………………..

SUNDAY MORNING

The golden rays of sunlight pierced through the skylight and surrounding windows, illuminating the entire bedroom effortlessly. There was no denying the effect it had on the sleeping body, so much brightness and warmth filling the space around them. Naturally early risers, both of them began to stir.

His hands were the first thing to move, grasping at the figure beside him and feeling blindly before opening his eyes and being blessed with the visage of his brunette beauty and her bright eyes meeting his.

“Now this is what I wanted…” he stated with a content voice, finally having that first morning smile he had asked for.

Her lashes fluttered coyly as her lips curled in a mile, that rosy hue rising to the surface of her cheeks. “Awake for ten seconds and you’re already flirting. What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you want Bunty.” He responded with a mischievous laugh.

“Don’t even go there…” she pointed a finger up at him. “I can’t subject myself to another round so soon, I think my butt is bruised.”

“It just might very well be.” He sat up and bared his back to her. “Then again, it looks like I wrangled a tiger last night, doesn’t it?”

“Oh my god, I did that?” she gasped, immediately sitting up and gently touching the red claw marks and feeling him wince ever so slightly.

“Trust me, this is nothing compared to when you touched my bruise in your car. I felt like I’d been stabbed. With a red hot iron rod. And struck by lightning.”

“That bad?”

He turned back around. “Well they were fresh, and you did apply a little bit of pressure.” Reaching, he took her right hand and turned it ever so slightly so her fingers pointed upwards and brought them to his lips. “I’ve especially admired your hands, ever since you stood on that little stepstool and redid my tie.” He kissed the pointer finger first. “Tiny little things that were so nimble.” He kissed her middle finger. “And quick.” Then he kissed her ring finger. “And most of all, fierce.” He finished with a kiss to her pinky.

“Stop that. Don’t you know how to turn off Flirt Mode?” she giggled.

“Not since meeting you.” He said with a wink.

“Oh you’re smooth.” She wrangled her fingers free from his hand and trailed her forefinger along his cheek. “Almost enough to make me change my mind…” she felt his intense blue gaze, adverting her eyes from them and instead focusing on his chest. Oh, that wasn’t helping either… “God, looking at you is just a temptation.” She muttered, pulling back.

“Is that so?” he replied with feline delight. He couldn’t resist but lean into her personal space as she retreated, his grin feral. “I’ll be sure to remember that…”

She tilted back and ended up falling flat on her back with him still advancing on her, leaning over in a predatory crawl that sent her blood racing. One large pale hand came up and lightly trailed a finger down her throat, followed by delicate kisses. “Charles…” she warned in a soft whisper, trying but not really to hold him off.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that to stop me.” He said; his hand teasing her nipple as his mouth moved towards the other one. He had her for a few moments of bliss before the most unexpected sound in the world rang in their ears, chilling their blood instantly. They froze, disengaged, sat up, and then shared a look of pure terror.

“Sam honey? It’s Mom…did you not hear us knocking?”

Us?

“Oh my god.” Samara whispered in horror. “My parents!”

“Yeah sleepyhead, we’re not letting you off the hook this time!” came another voice she wasn’t prepared for.

“And Jay?” she turned white. She jumped to her feet and in an octave quite higher than usual shouted that she wasn’t dressed and would be down in a moment. She turned to Charlie, who was already slipping on his pants and had one arm through a sleeve in his shirt.

“Just keep them in the kitchen, I’ll slip out.”

“My hand! What are we gonna tell them?” her voice was becoming shrill.

After fastening his pants and securing his arm in the other sleeve he pulled her close. “Stall them until I come back.”

“Come back?” she echoed with a shake of her head.

“The groceries in the trunk, we forgot about them yesterday.” He explained. “I’ll go down and get them and come back here as if we had planned this. A minute, two tops. Just give me that.”

Looking around frantically, she grabbed her cast off bathrobe and slipped it on. That terrified deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on her face is what worried him the most. She kept nodding to herself, a little murmur on her lips, telling herself to remain calm and play the role. With his shirt half buttoned he followed her on tip toes as she ventured down first, checking if the coast was clear. She had her right hand hidden the thick fluffy sleeve of the bathrobe, kept behind her in order to signal to Charlie if the coast was all clear.

Once on the first floor Sam strolled down the hallway, greeting all four members of her family with the genuine surprise she could clearly not hide. “Wow, everyone’s here?” she laughed nervously. “What’s the occasion?”

“I thought you were getting dressed.” Jay sighed.

“I was about to step in the shower. I knew if you didn’t hear me holler down that you guys would come and check. So hey, uh…let’s have some tea or something, shall we?” she announced, hooking her left thumb at in the direction of the kitchen, keeping her right hand shoved into the pocket of the robe.

She managed to usher them across from the living room to the kitchen, each one passing the hallway just where Charlie lingered, slowly creeping his hand down where his shoes were tucked under the staircase. He grabbed the first one and held it tight, holding his breath as he heard the distinct footfall of Samuel Young marching into the immaculate kitchen. He was followed by the delicate tapping of heels, who he could only assume was Mrs. Young.

Jay stopped at the hallway. “Why don’t you run upstairs and throw some clothes on?” he suggested, putting his hand on her shoulder to turn her around. Sam halted immediately, causing Ruth to nearly bump into her. She stopped suddenly and caught a glimpse of a familiar handsome blonde lurking right by the stairway, frozen in place as their eyes met.

“Jay, quit pushing your sis around and go get our glasses ok?” she ordered with girlfriend authority, taking Sam’s arm and pulling her close. She gave the little brunette an all-knowing wink. “I’ll give Sam a hand. We ladies won’t be long.” She called to their parents, who had taken seats at the dining table while Jay begrudgingly collected glasses for everyone and removed the pitcher of tea from the fridge.

Ruth forcefully marched Sam down the hall and met up with a startled stiff Charlie and cast a look at the two of them. He was barefoot, shirt open; hair tousled, shoes in hand….clear signs of something going on. Before he could open his mouth she held a hand up, silencing him. Then she made the shoo motion, indicating the door. He nodded and grabbed Sam’s key out of the dish on the little table by the door and quietly opened the door, making his exit. Then she turned her full attention to her boyfriend’s little sister. She motioned with her head for Sam to take the stairs, knowing how well sound carried in the penthouse.

Releasing the most pent-up breath of her life, Sam gladly began hopping up the stairs with her godsend future sister-in-law on her heels, all the way to the third floor before Ruth finally came at her in hushed voice.

“Ohmygod! I knew he was cute, but damn girl.”

Sam turned to her in a plea, pulling her right hand out of the robe. “Help me, I think I broke it and everyone down there is going to go ballistic and I need someone to be a voice of reason.”

Ruth gingerly took the bandaged arm presented to her with wide eyes. “Girl, what did you do?”

“I can’t explain right now, help me get dressed first before he comes back!”

Sensing the urgency, Ruth nodded and helped shuck off the robe and get a shirt, underwear and pair of sweats on her. She saw all the love bites, scratches, and bruises, casting Sam a “really?” look but helping out her sister in need. Sam hadn’t even seen them all yet, or at least not the new ones that had finally blossomed. They worked in quick mutual silence in their task and then darted down the second flight of stairs when the knock at her front door nearly had Sam leaping over the banister in a mad rush to reach it before any of the Young’s could emerge from the dining room.

She flung open the door to both the relief and startlement of Charlie, carrying the bags from yesterday’s ill-fated trip.

“Oh thank god.” He whispered before composing himself as Ruth approached.

“Showtime.” The doctor smiled, looking at the bags.

“Ah, Dr. Hadar, lovely to see you again.” He greeted loud enough to be heard as he entered the foyer, his shirt correctly buttoned and hair somewhat slicked back. He looked as clean and casual as one could get in the limited time frame.

“How nice to see you. How’s your hand?” she inquired.

That was all that was able to be said before both Samuel and Jay had barreled into the hallway with Mrs. Young on their heels, completely confused.

“Jones?” Samuel barked in surprise at not only the arrival of the assistant, but his arms full of groceries. His head swiveled over to his daughter, who curiously hid her right arm behind herself. “What’s going on here?”

“Let’s at least get the food to the kitchen.” Ruth chirped in, graciously waving the Young family back to the hallway. Sam tried lingering behind but the glare being tossed from her brother’s eyes was enough to prompt her forward as Ruth took his arm and turned him around. Charlie squared his shoulders and followed the family, trying not to feel he was being led to his execution.

Sam glued herself to the wall, her right arm still in hiding as Charlie passed her and set the bags on the island and began to remove the items. Luckily, all she had picked were non-perishable goods, as they had clearly forgotten about them after returning from the store.

“So you must be Charlie.” Mrs. Young smiled, extending a well-manicured hand to the young man. He took it gently with a firm shake before returning to his task. “I’ve heard you’ve been doing well since joining the YT family.”

Samuel stood stoically, arms crossed as he often did in the office. Jay was actively doing the same thing, whether by emulation of his father or his own accord was up for speculation. Ruth was by his side, a dark dwarf companion to the imposing tan giants. She gave a supportive glance at Sam while Mrs. Young took a bag and pulled out the bunch of bananas.

“I have ma’am.” He replied. “Missus Young and your husband run a tight ship. She’ll make a fine CEO with how much the staff respect her.”

“Enough sucking up.” Jay spouted. “Why are you here, at my sister’s place?”

“Jay!” Ruth elbowed him.

“Ah, about that…” Charlie sighed. “I am at the behest of Missus Young due to a nasty little encounter with a particular…Eva Lawson.”

That name elicited a collective gasp from the entire family, including Ruth, who had been well informed of the past relationship Sam once had even though the entire situation happened before she and Jay started dating. Charlie cast a sorrowful glance at her, silently apologizing for what was coming.

“And just how exactly did this little encounter happen?” Samuel inquired.

“Missus Young attended a fencing lesson of mine. Eva was there and took offense to that.”

Jay turned to Sam. “Why’d you even go in the first place? I thought you hated fencing.”

“Jay, let’s not turn this into a blame game.” Ruth chided. “Sam can do what she wants.”

“Thank you Ruth.” Mrs. Young directed at her before turning to her son. “Jay, we’ve talked about this…” she inflicted with that motherly warning tone.

“So why are you here today, bringing groceries for my daughter?” Samuel took his turn with his own question.

Charlie cast a nod in her direction. “Go ahead.”

She inhaled and pushed herself off the wall, holding her right arm up for the rest of them to see. The reaction was as she expected. They flocked. They all inquired. They each took hold of her to see it closely. They fretted on what ifs and how could she’s. For a moment, Charlie wasn’t even there. The whole Young family gathered around their smallest, youngest, frailest member of their clan in unity, in solidarity. He surmised that it was truly Samara Young who was the glue that held them together, that her absence would destroy them. The love they had for her was palpable and contagious, she was a light.

“Guys please.” She begged, pushing them back. She hadn’t even gotten a word in edgewise between her father and brother. She never could. Her mother was able to tend to her husband, and Ruth to Jay, pulling them out of her personal space and getting them to calm down.

“What in the world happened?” her father demanded in that eerily calm yet dangerous tone that garnered a response with no room for argument.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault.” Charlie sighed regretfully.

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Jay pulled away from Ruth and charged at him, grabbing his collar and shoving him against the refrigerator in an instant. Charlie grunted from the force as the fridge shook, his hands immediately locking onto Jay’s wrists and pinching at the base to immobilize any further movement.

“Jay!” the women cried in unison.

Samuel came up behind his son and clamped a hand on his shoulder, entirely too calm amidst the chaos.

The two young men locked eyes in a tense stalemate. Blue versus Black.

“Jay, let him go! He didn’t mean it like that!” Sam cried. “I-I punched her in the face.”

“Rock on!” Ruth cried with a fist pump which earned her a sharp glare from Sam’s parents. She turned and looked at them. “What?”

“That isn’t like you honey.” Her mother stated, though she was secretly proud of her daughter standing up for herself.

“You’re gonna have to get checked out.” Jay insisted, still glowering down at him. “That’s a Boxer’s Fracture, and that’s only with a surface inspection.”

“Yes, thank you Jay.” Sam growled. “I’m well aware ok?” she looked at her father, seeing a mixture of emotions storm up behind his eyes. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or not.

“Release him Jay. Remember he is still my employee.”

“He needs to learn his place.” Jay snarled with a dagger glint in his eye.

Charlie applied a bit of pressure to the tendon in each wrist, watching Jay’s eyes twitch from the inflicted pain he knew he was causing. It would be utter suicide to do much else, completely surrounded by Samara’s family.

“Jaymes Young, get off him.” Ruth ordered, coming around the kitchen island to his other side and grabbing at his arm. She and Samuel had to each pry on their selected arm of him to get him to relent. All the while their mother had her arms around Sam, trying to comfort her as she was on the verge of tears from this dramatic display.

“God Jay, why do you have be like this?” she cried, wiping her eyes, furiously red in the face. “Every single time! You don’t even know him! You don’t even try to get to know any guy I remotely know. You did it all through school, but now? Grow up already!”

“As much as you believe you’re doing the right thing by standing up for her, just take a look at how much you’re actually hurting her instead.” Charlie said to him. “And if you keep this up for much longer, you won’t be able to use your hands.”

“Let go son, this is not the same situation as before.” Samuel had to remind him as the Berserker Rage began to subside within the doctor. The Hulk returned to being Bruce Banner, his grip loosening. His nostrils flared with his slow breaths as his hands trembled, then lightly brushed off the collar he had wrinkled to death.

“I’m…sorry.” His voice wavered, eyes returning to being human. Charlie was beginning to see why Jay had nearly been arrested. There was a beast within him that wanted to fight, to protect. Ruth had taken hold of his hands and looked at the red indention upon his wrists, right in the center of the fold. She led him out of the kitchen and to the living room and sat him down.

Charlie remained against the fridge, now faced with their father.

Samuel Young looked the blond up and down. “Are you alright?” he asked in that cool inflection he had when addressing an underling. “I’d hate for a second employee of Young Technologies to be laid up with an injury.”

“I’ve been dealt worse.” He replied with no hint of sarcasm.

Sam pulled away from her mother, who in turn went to her son’s aid as he needed to be calmed after that explosive episode. Every time he succumbed to the darkness within him, it took a considerable amount of effort from those closest to bring him back. She came up and nearly laid a hand on his chest, but refrained at the last second. “I’m so sorry.” She cried in a hushed voice laced with humiliation.

“I think it’s time I leave.” He announced, as much as he hated to admit it, but this was clearly not a situation he needed to be involved with.

“I appreciate your honesty and loyalty to my daughter. You’ll have to pick up the slack as she heals.” He stated, laying a hand on her shoulder. “We should get you home; you took a cab I presume?”

“Yes.” Charlie answered, in truth, they had. Yesterday.

“I’ll see you out.” Sam offered. “I’ll have the concierge call one for you. Dad?” she turned to him. “It’s only fitting to cover his fare.”

Mr. Young cocked his head to the side. “It is.” He pulled out his wallet and handed the young man more than enough to cover the ride. “Save the change for possible other fares until you have your license.” He added.

His way of an apology?

Charlie took the offered money and tucked it into his front pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work. I wish you all a good day.” He removed himself from the chilled appliance and followed Sam as she led the way past the living room and down the hall. At the foyer he slipped her keys from his pocket and back into the dish without breaking stride as she opened the door and led him across the lobby to the elevator. Once the doors closed they embraced, her tears flowing freely. He hushed her, smoothed her hair and rubbed her back as she held onto him, profusely apologizing for her brother’s behavior.

Just as they were about to approach the first floor lobby he slapped the STOP button and held her. “Calm down Bunty, you mustn’t let them know you’ve been crying.”

“How can I not?” she blubbered into his shirt. “It was completely uncalled for.”

He took her face in his hands and thumbed away her tears. “Listen, just go back up there and endure your family for today, you can call me once they leave.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and then hit the button once more, the doors opening a second later. “Rwy’n dy garu di.” He whispered as he stepped backwards out of the elevator and pushed the button on the wall, shutting the doors quickly and sending her back to the top.
…………………………

As soon as the doors shut, Sam placed her hand on them, feeling her heart constrict with confliction. Not only had her family’s visit been an unexpected one, but the entire interaction between them and Charlie had gone completely sideways. He had stood his ground and made a graceful exit from the situation in what could only be described in a gentlemanly fashion, which she hoped would work in his favor in her family’s view of him.

All too soon she reached the top floor and was walking back to the penthouse. After crossing the foyer she sat down on her bottom steps, resting her face in her hands as she overheard her family in the living room.

“…it would be a shame for him to quit the company over something like this.” She heard her mother lament. “He seems like a genuinely good man.”

“He’s not going to quit. He and I have a deal.” Her father remarked.

“I’ll take Jay home, how bout we have dinner together instead of brunch? That should be enough time to cool our heads and you can get Sam checked out. I know that Dr. Greenberg is in today.”

“Is she taking him all the way down to the lobby?” her mom inquired.

“She’s probably apologizing her eyes out.” Ruth suggested, grabbing Jay’s arm. “Let’s go Jay.” She growled in a low tone as she marched him down the hall. “Oh you’re back!” she exclaimed at the sight of Sam sitting on the stairs.

At the sight of her older brother, Sam stood and turned away, then grabbed the railing and stormed up the stairs without a word. She couldn’t even look at him. By the time she reached the second stairwell she heard the door open and close. After a short spell of silence, her mother’s voice called out to her.

Mrs. Young found Sam sitting on her bed, head hanging low, hands in her lap. “Sweetie?” she sighed and took a seat next to her. “I sent your father down with Jay and Ruth, it’s just us.” She took a gentle hold of the injured hand of her daughter and interlocked their fingers. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” Sam mumbled.

“About this young man my dear, and how it appears there’s more than just a work relationship going on here.” The lovely blonde stated with clarity, brushing some of her daughter’s hair aside with her other hand. “Unless I’m mistaken and the feelings are one-sided?”

Sam inhaled a wavering breath. “Are you going to tell dad?”

“That you're secretly seeing Charlie? Course not.” Mrs. Young immediately answered. “When was the last time us girls had a little secret to ourselves?” she nudged her with an elbow.

“Okay…It’s true.” She confessed in a small voice. “We’re keeping it secret.”

“Ahhh.” The mother smirked with confidence. “He certainly is easy on the eyes. Is he just a boy toy? Or are you two serious?”

Recalling the heated passion of yesterday, Sam knew in her heart she’d never have let herself go that far with either Fred or Link, anyone, not since Benjamin.

“You think I’m making the same mistake again?”

“Not at all.” Her mother answered. “It’s been enough time to look forward and decide what you want. But don’t be ashamed of your relationship, keeping it secret will come back on you. I know, because your father and I had so many moments where trying to keep up the façade nearly broke us. Granted, it was the 80’s and things were different, but still…you need to be free to be able to be yourselves naturally with each other.”

“Right. After what just happened?” Sam snorted with disdain. “Get ready to raise bail money.”

“Let your father and I handle Jay. Ruth has enough sway with him to make him see reason.” The mother released her daughter’s hand and stood up. “Let’s get some shoes and get you over to the clinic before they froth at the mouth.” She strolled over to the walk-in closet and found a pair of slip on flats.
……………………

In the backseat of the cab, Charlie raked his hands through his hair and exhaled, feeling the adrenaline finally subside in his veins. The Young Family definitely was a passionate, emotionally fueled group, and he was going to have to be on his guard around any of them. Even though Mrs. Young seemed the most level headed of them, he surely didn’t want to cross her regardless. Samuel he had a decent gauge on but Jay’s explosive outburst took him by surprise. When Samara had casually mentioned how her brother had nearly been arrested he merely took it as an exaggeration from the hindsight of it all. Nope. Clearly, the big protective brother was out for blood.

He held his phone in his other hand, sending a text to Marshall informing him he was coming home sooner than expected. He had hoped this first Sunday together as a couple would be spent with laying in each other’s arms, then a shared meal and possibly an afternoon out in town, just walking hand-in-hand, experiencing that realness of a day together. How that idea quickly burst into flames.

Now with Samara having her injury and her family on high alert, it’d be a miracle if he’d even get the chance to say hello to her in the office without feeling the eyes of Samuel Young peering down at him with suspicion. He’d have to remain diligent to his duties and keep his head down for the next few weeks at the least.

ML: back so soon? There a problem bro?

Charlie sighed. Even though he disliked discussing anything private with him, right now, he could use an ally.

CJ: can we talk when I get there?

ML: uh oh. Doesn’t sound good if you’re askin but yeah, we can

He leaned his head back and finished the ride in silence. After paying the fare he slowly trudged up the stairs to the third floor, first approaching his door to unlock it, then stopped himself and stepped over to his neighbor’s door and knocked. It opened immediately, the vibrant pink hair a shock to his eyes as he had expected Marshall to greet him.

“Come on in.” she replied with a flick of the wrist. Bowser came flying up to greet him in his usual manner, always happy to see him. He knelt down and gave Bowser some undivided attention for a few minutes, the feel of his fur and chirpy little bark soothing his nerves. “I’ll be taking the furchildren out while you boys talk.” She announced, gathering the leashes. In a moment she had them secured and out the door.

“Dude, you look like you’ve been through some shit.” Marshall observed.

Charlie took the couch, Marshall swung his gamer chair away from the desk and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Tell me, what went down yesterday? Cuz I’m pretty sure you had to have a hand in it somehow.”

“So you already know about that?” Charlie inhaled with a nod. “Samara joined me for a class and once your sister realized she was there, well, the claws came out. Eva had cruel things to say and got right in her face. Next thing I knew, she was backing up, bloody and caught off guard, Samara advancing with a fist. I had to hold her back from taking another swing.”

“Wow, holy shit Sam.” Marshall chortled. “Eva really must’ve crossed the line this time. She called me screaming that she’d been expelled from the club and that it was somehow my fault, or responsibility to deal with her about it.” He shrugged his shoulders heavily. “I hung up on her. I’m so done with the drama.”

Charlie could only imagine.

“Samara may have broken her hand. She’s on her way to getting that looked at right now.” Charlie said with his eyes focuses on nothing in particular.

“Dude.” A moment of silence passed after that all-encompassing word was uttered.

“Her family sprung a surprise visit upon us. I was luckily able to slip out with the aid of Dr. Hadar, her brother’s girlfriend. But I returned, as we had groceries left in the trunk from the day before we had forgotten. We tried to make it look as if my visit was planned, as we had yet conjured up an explanation for her hand.”

“Yeah, I bet they took that well.” The gamer remarked, recalling his own misadventures with the Young Family drama.

“We told them the truth, but I mistakenly said it was my fault.”

“Oh dude.” Marshall hissed. “Dude, never blame yourself in front of them because they will hold that against you for the rest of their lives.”

Charlie unbuttoned the top two buttons, revealing the reddish marks left by Jay’s rough handling. “I’ve unfortunately figured that out a little too late. Her brother nearly rang my neck-quite literally.”

He flinched at first, but then leaned in to see clear knuckle impressions against the pale skin of Charlie’s collarbone. Marshall’s eyes were nearly wide enough to fall out of their sockets. “Nani the fuck?!? In front of the whole fam too? Dude’s losing it.”

“Samuel and Ruth had to each secure an arm and talk him down. I was quick enough to have his wrists and hit a pressure point on each one. I’m sure his hands are aching now but he barely registered it then. His eyes completely clouded over.” Charlie met Marshall’s eye. “What do you know of Jay’s past?”

“Oh…” Marshall responded with surprise. “Well, from what Sam told me…He grew up watching her be sick all the time, getting picked on by kids in school. Kinda developed this Hero Complex if you ask me.” He leaned back and crossed his arms.

“I suppose any man does, in some measure.” Charlie surmised, recalling how Marshall had basically said the same of him.

“So what happened after that?”

“I knew it was best to leave. Mr. Young felt obligated, I suppose, to give me cab fare and Samara offered to see me to the lobby. We had just a brief moment alone before I sent the elevator back up.”

“Lobby?” Marshall cocked his head. “She living in a hotel or something?”

Not wanting to share something as personal as that, he merely answered that it was a high rise complex downtown. Marshall just nodded, figuring that whatever place she resided at had top notch security and a responsive staff should she have a medical condition. Her parents would’ve seen to that if they had any part of it.

They went back and forth a bit, Marshall sharing the knowledge that now Charlie would need if he was to keep his head attached when dealing with any of them. Charlie was relieved that Ruth had at least been smart enough to not only understand the situation and assist, but to continue doing so throughout the whole exchange. Marshall had to agree that he at least had that in his favor. If there was at least one, then perhaps the others could be swayed easier.

“I never expected I’d be coaching the next potential love interest in her life. And being the neighbor of one to boot!”

“That is truly something one can say they never saw coming.” Agreed Charlie as Monica came back from walking the dogs. He was greeted with the same enthusiasm as before from Bowser, nearly knocked off the edge of the couch as he was literally dog piled.

“Did you two get everything off your chests?” she inquired at them, sensing some emotional tension.

“Yeah, I think we’re good. Right?”

“Sorry for the sudden intrusion. But thank you again for looking over Bowser. He seems to have a liking to the two of you.”

“Glad to hear that. You’re welcome to hang out with us if you want, unless you two are feeling weird about that?” she offered, glancing at the both of their faces.

Marshall just gave a nonchalant wave, everything good here kind of sign as Charlie stood up. “We’ll see.” He answered, still unsure how a friendship would work between all of them. Or how Samara would feel knowing he was. He made his exit and finally entered his apartment, the sight welcome for once after the day’s drama.
……………………….

Feeling reverted back to her teens, Samara sat in her parent’s back seat. After struggling with the seat belt for a full minute, cursing and nearly tearing up, she finally managed to lock it in place. Her parents had sat patient and quiet in the front, their silent exchange somehow just making it worse than having either one offer their assistance.

She found herself in the once familiar clinic, only this time in an adult room with even blander paint and pathetic décor than the forced cheer of the children’s room. Apparently adults were expected to not have fear or anxiety or even the desire to see a doctor of their own accordance and were thus shoved into taupe colored cells with tissue lined benches that crinkled with the slightest movement and the usual posters of human anatomy or blown up images of bacteria to look at. Nothing but outdated magazines and scribbled in coloring books to attempt entertaining herself with since there was a clear No Phone sign in letters large enough to not be ignored upon the door.

Another sigh and hang of her shoulders went by with the tick of the wall clock until Dr. Greenberg finally arrived. A portly woman with curly black hair wrapped in a high messy bun, she arrived with a smile at the Young family. She slapped the manila folder of Sam’s medical history on the counter and went in for handshakes with the parents, telling them how much she enjoyed working with their son, and his sweet little girlfriend before finally coming up to her patient.

Her eyes were warm and motherly, smiling as she gingerly took hold of the wounded wing of this little sparrow she had before her. She commended the use of the wrap, which brought half a smile up to Sam’s lips until she took the ring finger and wiggled it. Sam’s whole body curled into itself as a high pitch keen passed through tightly pressed lips and eyes widen to twice as big.

“Ooooh child…” the doctor tsked with sympathy. “Let’s get this X-rayed.”

Holding up the negative film, the image of a skeletal hand was clear in its several shades of white and gray against the foggy black background. The right hand, with a distinct slice in the fourth and fifth metacarpal. The diagnosis was clear: a boxer’s fracture.

“Prognosis for these fractures is generally good, with total healing time not exceeding twelve weeks. The first two weeks will show significantly reduced overall swelling, with improvement in clenching ability showing up first. Ability to extend the fingers in all directions appears to improve more slowly. Hard casts are rarely required, and soft casts or splints can be removed for brief periods of time to allow for cleaning and drying the skin underneath the splint.” Dr. Greenberg rattled off. “Pain from injury varies person to person as with most injuries cannot in all honesty be generalized. Depending on the individual a course of over the counter or narcotic pain medication will suffice. Muscle atrophy of five to fifteen percent may be expected, with a rehabilitation period of approximately four months given adequate therapy. In the mildest of cases, full rehabilitation status can be achieved within three to four months. Now, I’ll be happy to answer questions.”

“So how bad is this?” Sam held up her braced hand.

“You’ll be just fine dear, it was a clean break. You just keep that on despite how much of an inconvenience that is and you’ll be healed up in no time.”

“But I can’t do anything…” she began.

“I’ll come over every morning.” Her mother piped up. “I’ll help you get dressed and take you to work and cook for you until you have full mobility.”

Sam deflated. Oh yay, just like being a kid all over again. “Thanks.” She replied weakly. But, rather it be her mother than some hired hand. She would not feel comfortable with a stranger having to help dress her.

“As long as you’re not in a significant amount of pain I don’t believe we’ll need a prescription for anything. Feel free to come see me though if that should change.” The doctor said as she slipped the x-ray into the folder and was about to wrap up their session when Sam stopped her.

“Can I have a moment of patient-doctor confidentiality?” she asked to three of them. Samuel’s face turned to one of curiosity and protest but her mother simply nodded and took his arm, leading him to the door. After a moment of closing the door and making sure they had actually walked down the hall, Sam turned to her doctor.

“Well, you have my attention and my confidence. What is said here is between us.”

“Good.” She stated with a nod. “I know this may be out of your field, but I’d like to discuss some options on birth control.”
……………………..

Hours had gone by, no call or text from her yet.

Charlie tried to keep his mind occupied with anything but her, an impossible task. His conversation with Marshall had been comforting in only a small measure, the comradery slowly building between them. He was still leery of calling him a friend, but at least he believed there were no lingering feelings he harbored for her. Marshall had made it clear that all he wanted was for Samara to be happy, whomever she was with.

He sighed and closed the book he’d been trying to read. He’d been stuck on this page for the past five minutes, having reread the same paragraph twice now. At the sound of the book creaking closed, Bowser came bounding over and flopped on his chest, flicking his tongue out to offer kisses.

Charlie nose booped Bowser as he grabbed his cheek as tousled him, eliciting playful growls from the canine and little butt wiggles. Play-fighting and getting him all riled up was an excellent way to get his pudgy boy to lose some weight. Gripping him a tight hold, Charlie rolled off the couch and onto the floor, releasing the fuzzy bundle who then in turn ran circles around and on top of his human, who remained on all fours to swipe at him here and there.

Bowser, king of majestic leaps, bounded off furniture at break neck speed and darted around like a black bullet. Had Charlie decided to wear glasses they would’ve slipped off his face with how he had to turn his head and dodge little nips from his miniature opponent. He imitated some barks of his own and fake jolts that sent Bowser into spasms of canine glee, jerking left and right and jumping onto his back to grab at his loose hanging hair. Covering his head only enticed Bowser more, who then dove underneath him to give sneak kisses to his chin and cheeks.

“Ah! You win!” he cried, covering his face and hunching even lower until Bowser could no longer slip under his chest. The hearty round of play fighting had left the dog panting and exhausted, heading to his water bowl and sloshing half his drink everywhere as he greedily lapped the supply. He found a cozy spot to flop down and rest, little dragon snores sneaking out of him moments later.

Charlie chuckled at the sight of his little buddy, but their little tousle was just a momentary distraction of his woes. That is until his phone beeped with a text notification.
……………………………

Sam sat with her parents at their table, the awkward silence across the dining surface palpable as they tried to distract themselves with looking at the menu or taking constant sips from their glasses of water. They were awaiting Jay and Ruth to join them, much to Sam’s annoyance. She’d shot down any questions either parent directed her with one worded clips or straight silence.

“I’d rather be home.” She pouted with indignation, eyes cast off to the window.

“You realize you’ve evaded the last several family gatherings we’ve scheduled?” her father stated. “You’ve been shying away from all of us, and we’re concerned.” He reached over and patted the top her left hand.

She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms, shielding herself from any further contact. She bit her bottom lip and sniffed back the emotion threatening to spill through. “I’ve been stressed, okay?” she admitted as to that much. “I can’t keep hanging in this limbo you’ve put me in.” She brought her head back over to face her parents. “Dad, I need to know if you ever plan to retire and make me CEO. I can’t keep living on the edge of this ‘will he or won’t he’ because I can’t move forward.”

Her words brought a hush to the two of them, her parents jaws partially open and eyebrows hitched up. Before either one of them could collect themselves, she continued.

“I know you trust me, you believe in me…but I feel…it’s not enough…”

“Not enough?” her mother was the first to break the silence. “Honey, what more do you need?”

Sam’s arms went from crossed to hugging herself, eyes glossy. She didn’t have a direct answer. She didn’t to have to say it, not to his face, not like this. Her father was a man that ran on emotion more than logic.

He straightened up and licked his lips, cleared his throat and fought for his next choice of words. “I know.” He said sorrowfully. “You’ve been telling me for some time now…I overdo it with the nicknames, the hugs, the compliments…I’ve been hovering…” His wife nearly fell out of her chair with shock. Samuel actually admitting he was overdoing it? Had hell froze over? Were pigs flying outside right now?

“You’ve applied yourself with the upmost dedication in your work. I’ve taught you everything I’ve learned in all my years of creating and running Young Tech, there’s no one more qualified to become my successor.”

“So….?” She prompted, not wanting him to stop the train he was on.

He pressed his fingers together, flexing his knuckles. “Truth is, I’m afraid to retire. I love my work. I love seeing you work, making me proud every day. And if you become CEO…then what’s left for me to do…?”

Mrs. Young curled her arm around his, linked together in comfort. “Darling, we can go and do anything we want. Take that cruise we’ve been wanting to, spend the summer getting a Mediterranean tan…do what couples in their golden years get to do…” Her phone pinged with a text. She reached over and slid her finger across the screen and her smile faltered a little. “Jay’s not coming.”

Sam couldn’t say she was surprised by her brother’s refusal.

Samuel huffed out a defeated sigh. “Let’s just order then.”

“I’m sorry dad; this whole mess is my fault.” She sulked, reaching for her phone in the pocket of her sweatpants. “Could you just order for me? I’ll be in the bathroom.” She excused herself before they could protest.

“Why is it I feel like I’ve failed?” Samuel asked, feeling the comforting grip from his wife upon his arm.

“You haven’t, but Sam needs to figure out what she wants, and we need to give her the space to do so.”
……………………………

Sam shut the bathroom door behind her with relief; no one else was currently occupying the other stall, so the momentary solace was welcomed. She sat on the turned down seat lid in the stall after latching the door closed and pulled out her phone.

SY: I’m sorry bout all of this.

It didn’t surprise her at all how quickly her phone pinged back with a response.

CJ: are you alright? What was the doctor’s prognosis?

SY: you wre right…boxer’s frature… 4th & 5th metacaraple thing, ugh I can’t spell

CJ: you’re fine darling. What’s happening now?

SY: I’m hiding n the ladies room, texting my secret BF like a rebellious teenager

CJ: making up for lost time?

SY: my mom is going t become my nursemaid for the next fww weeks, I dont think we’ll get any alone time. But I did tell her, so she does knw.

CJ: what did she have to say about that? Will she tell your father?

SY: she said that keping it secret for too long could cause us to fall apart. She told me she an dad strugglerd with it back when they first started. I guess you didn’t know this, but she was his receptonist back in the 80s

CJ: oh?

SY: mom won’t tell, that’s for us to do when we’re ready. Truth is though I’m afraid. I have to go back now. I’ll ttyl.

CJ: what is ttyl?

She couldn’t help but giggle. Oh this adorable fellow.

SY: it means talk to you later. Geez, you oughta text more.

CJ: just another thing for you to teach me ;)

A smile crept upon her lips at the thought of that. He never failed to say or do something. If only she could make her brother understand…
………………………..

Ruth surprised the remaining Young family by showing up to the restaurant alone, causing them to immediately call for the waiter to bring a menu and get her order taken as she was seated. She slipped in at Sam’s right side, across from her mother and rattled off her drink and entre with barely a glance at the menu, already knowing what she wanted.

“All his text said was he wasn’t coming. He didn’t mention you, so sorry we went ahead and ordered.” Mrs. Young began.

“Oh it’s alright it was a last minute decision.” Ruth replied with a casual wave. “I’m not letting his melodramatic moment prevent me from hanging out with you, especially since we worked hard to make sure we both had the day off.”

Sam felt a pang of guilt, as if that jab had been a football thrown into her gut.

“And what did Greenberg have to say?”

The look from both her parents prompted Sam to sigh and answer, confirming what of course her doctor brother and his girlfriend already knew. As if she needed to ask.

“So I gotta know, what the heck did she do to make you go all Laila Ali on her?” she asked, all bright eyed and bushy-tailed. The look her parents also shared.

Sam tapped her fingers against the table nervously. “I don’t think you really want to hear it verbatim, but long version short, she said I was never worthy of her brother.”

The insult was not a surprise at all.

“I lost it.” She confessed. “I don’t even remember swinging-my fist was just there- right in her face. One hit was all I got it before Charlie pulled me back and took me to the benches. Coach Whitman banned her from the club and had someone get an ice pack.”

“Did she hit you?” Samuel asked in a tone barely concealing his contempt for the woman. It was no wonder where Jaymes got his short fuse from.

“No, she only pushed a finger to my chest. But her nose bled pretty good.” Sam added with a slight perk. Everyone at least shared a mutual chuckle from that. “I do remember what I said back at her though…” she trailed off, the scene flashing in her mind so vividly.

“And?” Ruth prompted, thirsty for juicy details.

“I said… Benjamin hadn’t been worthy of me.” She said softly, the realization dawning on her of what that sentence actually had meant.

She had moved on.
……………………..

Chapter Text

Monday felt like a hard re-set to Life. Samara was awakened and tended to by her mother, bright and early as promised with her outfit selected and helped into and a hearty breakfast prepared. Having her mother see certain marks upon her body had left her red in the face for a near record breaking blush of biblical proportions.

“So…you two are…” her mother trailed off, seeing her daughter’s face brighten with intensity with each word. She finished her sentence with a wavering nod and left it at that. No need to cause her daughter to die of embarrassment.

After sliding into the passenger seat of her mother’s car, Sam requested they swing by The Daily Grind for a pick-me-up. If she was going to have to be subjected to this nursemaid treatment, she was at least going to endure it with a hot cup of her favorite brew. Or maybe with that new one Dee had her try. They were making good time, so her mother saw no problem with it.

“I haven’t seen Dee in some time.” She mused. “How has she been?”

“Busy.” Sam replied.

Hadn’t they all been as of late?

At the chime of the bell when they pushed open the door, Dee perked up like the morning sunlight had blessed her crops at the sight of Mrs. Young walking into her establishment. She happily bounded over, arms outstretched for a hug and a delighted squeal as she hugged her adoptive mother. All through college, Dee had come to love the Young family as her own, and was welcomed wholeheartedly in return. Dee was considered family even before graduation, and had the Young’s support in securing her loan for the coffee shop.

It was as if the queen of England had just walked in, Link mused as Sam made her way to the counter and began to order. He saw the brace securing her right hand, the swelling of the knuckles and bruising and set his jaw. The hard look in his eye set Sam’s spidey-sense off; she glanced down at it and flushed.

“Uh yeah…about that…”

“Let me guess….it had to with Charlie?” he sneered the other’s man’s name as he turned around and started her order. “If so, I don’t want to hear it.”

Her mouth gaped open at his tone, taken back at the unexpected bitterness coming from her friend. “I’m sorry Link, about Saturday-”

“No you’re not.” He cut her off. “You came in here and made damn sure everyone saw, everyone knows. You and him, fine, I get it. But you could at least respect my boundaries, this is where I work and I don’t need this flaunted in my face.”

“I didn’t know he was going to do th-”

He whipped around and set her cup on the counter. She flinched back just a step. There was dark cloud behind his sapphire eyes that she’d never seen before. Their heated dispute had soon drawn the attention of the two women who’d been chatting away merrily just a few feet away.

“It hurts me, seeing you like this.” He stated flatly. “Drinking…bar fights…whatever this is…” he gestured to her bandaged hand. “And it seems like you have no intention of stopping until you’re in the hospital for a whole new plethora of reasons….Maybe I deluded myself with how I felt for you…but now…” he exhaled a heavy breath. “I feel like I don’t even know who you are.”

The words felt like a slap to the face.

Sam picked up her cup and held it close to her chest, the need to feel some warmth from his cold words piercing into her heart like a wooden stake. “Well if that’s how you feel…maybe you never really knew me at all.”

They clearly had the attention of Dee and her mother now.

“I hope he knows what he’s signed up for…cuz you seem hell-bent on self-destruction and I can’t watch that happen.” Link pushed away from the counter and strode off to the back room.

Clutching her cup, Sam had never felt so small and lost before. Her mother’s hand came up on her shoulder for support as Dee came around to the other side and hugged her waist. The whole time she stood there, numb.

“Come on hon, let’s get you to work.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

Sam turned to Dee. “I think he’s said all he’s going to say, and has heard all he’s wanted to hear. I’m sorry Dee; I really think I’ve broken him now.”

Her barista buddy patted her arm. “He’s still sorting out his feelings, and anger is the easiest to latch onto. Though it might be best if you and Charlie visit during different hours. I can text ya his non work schedule and save you guys from another one of…these” she gestured to the air in between them and the register.

“Yeah…” Sam replied in small voice, devoid of emotion. She turned with her mother to leave without a look back. She walked in silence all the way to the car and got inside before letting the tears fall.

“It’s alright.” Her mother cooed, pulling her over to let her cry onto her chest. “Get it all out.”
…………………………………

Samuel’s foot tapped impatiently, arms crossed as he stared at the clock. Neither wife nor daughter had walked through the doors yet and it was five after the hour. Unless traffic had been particularly bad they should’ve been here twenty minutes ago. Trying to shake off the worry and tell himself that no life-threatening scenario had befallen them, he had begun barking orders for someone to locate the stash of office supplies that had once been sitting in what was now Jones’ office.

So far, no one had a clue as to the exact location of said items.

“For crying out loud, how hard it is to find some boxes?” he bellowed.

“Sorry sir, but other than calling for them to be moved I had no part in it.” Lucy explained, wondering what had gotten into Mr. Young this morning. “Is there something in particular we need?”

“Yes.” The man turned around locked eyes with the young Welsh that had rounded the corner with a new ream of paper for the printer, sleeves rolled to his elbows. “Jones, did you help clear out the stored supplies before you took that room for your office?”

“No sir, I was tailing Umed all that week.” He answered, hefting the paper into the drawer for the machine.

“I know we have one around here somewhere…” the older man mumbled to himself, pacing the floor, trying to rack his brain. Lucy knew if this carried on much longer that it would become a full on scavenger hunt if he didn’t either locate what he needed or was given its equivalent. She pulled out her phone with her thumb over Sam’s number right as she walked in.

“Oh thank god.” She prayed to the big man upstairs and set the phone back into her purse. Her bright eyes widened at the blonde figure behind her, gasping before she could stop herself. “Oh hello there Mrs. Young!”

A split second later she saw the brace on her friend’s arm. “Sam, what happened?”

Sam groaned, knowing everyone would be all abuzz about it if she didn’t address the situation immediately. “Call everyone into the conference room in a bit and I’ll tell you all at once.”

Her father came bounding up in great strides with a soft hug for his daughter and a more “friendly” one for his wife as Lucy set the mail out for Sam that she took with the two fingers she could wiggle of her right hand.

“Honey, what took so long?” he asked.

“Just a slow start, that’s all.” She replied with a smile.

Charlie entered the main hub, having finished loading the printer and adjusting the color saturation for the ink cartridge. “That should do it.” He announced, wiping his hands together. “The teal should be just that right amount of blue and green now.” He stopped suddenly at the sight of three of the four Young’s in front of Lucy’s desk, somewhat blocking his entry to the hall where his office resided.

He met the intense green gaze of Mrs. Young and knowing immediately that she knew the nature of their relationship, he flushed beat red. She merely smirked with glee as she continued speaking with her husband. Sam snuck a little bit closer to him. “You adjusted the ink filter?”

He nodded. “I did. I noticed the teal had too much blue and was closer to cerulean. I know it seems trivial but some people are quite particular about their specific shade, especially when it comes to their brand. I was just preventing us a re-printing fiasco.”

“No, that’s great work. We’ve been having that issue for a while now.” She replied, shifting her briefcase in her left hand while trying to a better grip on the mail, to which he simply offered his hand for her to give over. Getting used the brace was going to be a trial. “Dad’s freaking out about not finding the left-hand mouse. I honestly forgot we had one, but I guess that’s why it was tossed in the store room.”

“Samuel honey, calm down. I’ll go to Best Buy or wherever you need to pick one up. Charlie can come with me and help, you know me and the technical stuff…” her mother offered in order to deescalate the atmosphere. She craned her neck over her husband’s shoulder and eyed the young man. “Sammie dear, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to steal your assistant for a bit. Come along Charlie, let’s get that mouse.”

“Yes ma’am.” He answered without hesitation, handing Sam’s briefcase back to her. He rolled his sleeves back down and smoothed them and readjusted his tie. He maintained that cool façade he’d been working hard to maintain as he followed the lovely blonde woman all the way down the elevator and to her car. He did hold open the door for her in the elevator as he always did with Samara to her delight. Once buckled he released a breath and remained straight backed despite the seat offering a little give. He was expecting an ulterior motive to being invited along to shop for a left hand computer mouse.

“You look tense. I promise I won’t bite.” She started out sweetly. “Then again…I’ve seen the one you left on her.” She added, watching him turn beet red in a millisecond. “Oh my goodness, you blush like my daughter.” She giggled lightly. “I’m not one to judge what goes on between two consenting adults.”

Her words did little to ease the flush to his face as they left the parking lot.

“Come now, I barely got five minutes of a conversation with you before everything went nuclear. I would like a moment to get to know the man my daughter is seeing.”
“I figured that’s why I was invited.” He stated, beginning to calm his nerves.

“I may be a model and commercial actress but I’m not naïve. I figured there was more going on than you two were letting on. My question is…if you were able to sneak out past all of us, why come back at all?”

He nervously rubbed an elbow. “I didn’t want Samara to have to face the lot of you alone as we had not yet even begun to plan what to say happened to her hand.”

“It’s been years since I’ve heard anyone address my daughter by her given name. Is that a formality she has granted you?”

“It is.” He answered. “Just as she is the only one who calls me by name when everyone else refers to me as Charlie.”

‘Oh, so they already have their little names for each other?’

“Well then, Charlie…what is your intention with her?” she asked casually, no hint of displeasure or suspicion in her voice. Far more preferred than if Mr. Young was addressing him with the same question.

His hand was now scratching at the back of his neck. This was not a conversation he’d expected to be having this morning. “To be perfectly honest ma’am, I’m trying not to have a plan. I want Samara to be able to move at the pace which is most comfortable for her. I’m well aware of what she’s been through. But I can’t help but picture what it would be like…her and I together…”

She shot him a glance before turning her eyes back to the road and having to make a turn to exit the street. He gave off nervous energy, but honest intentions. “Do you love her?”

Startled, Charlie swiveled his whole body 180 degrees so he could face her. ‘Going straight for the jugular I see.’ He swallowed hard and thought carefully.

“What I love is how her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. How there’s a glow to her skin as if there’s a sun radiating from within. I love how she puts the needs of others before herself, such as when I sliced my palm and the cut reopened at work. Without a second to recant, she was insisting and dragging me to be seen by your son. Ruth took over though.”

Samantha Young nodded, listening to his list as she weaved through the traffic.

“And she continued to see to my well-being the rest of the work day. I love how she’s able to earn the respect of the entire staff not by birthright but by her hard work. I often have to pull her away from her desk in order to make sure she eats, or leaves on time. And most of all, I love that she saw the potential in me without judging me for my lack of experience.”

The car entered the parking lot of the shopping district just as he finished. She steered and parked, turned the key and then faced the young man. “Sam has many fine qualities; the ones I usually hear most are the superficial ones. They say how much of a beauty she is, thinking that it’s what we want to hear. They’ll say they admire her intelligence, until she starts explaining how something works that they cannot comprehend. They may mention her kindness, but anyone can be kind. You young man, you see her for who she really is. For that, I want to say thank you.”

As if on cue, they both reached for their handles and exited the vehicle, marching up to the massive electronics retailer. They were kindly greeted by awaiting staff that made it their mission to find a left-handed mouse despite the trouble it took to actually locate one. Due to recent restocking, there had been a mix up with labels and storing. Mrs. Young waved off their apologies and told them not to fret, she had nothing but time.

When the young girl who looked fresh out of high school dashed off again to locate her manager, she turned back to Charlie. “My husband explained to me this deal the two of you have, which now seems like a twist of fate that you two should come to such terms, seeing how Sam cannot drive for herself. How has that been coming along?”

“I’ve practiced the physical mechanics of driving in a parking lot to familiarize myself with the vehicular lay-out. Everything is completely opposite from that to cars in the UK. I believe this week your husband wants to take it to the next level and have me drive in a residential setting. I’ve read the books; I did that shortly after coming here. The written test will be no problem.”

“You sound quite confident about that. My husband is putting quite a lot of trust in you. More than he usually gives.”

Charlie locked his hands behind his back and straightened. “I-I don’t really know what to say about that. I gave my word I would do my best. And I rarely fail when I set myself on something.”

She cocked a blonde eyebrow. “Did you have your sights set on Sam from the start?”

“No ma’am.” He quickly answered. “That came gradually, although quickly….I played her game: Ruminate.”

That was a word she had not heard in years either. The mere mention brought a prickling of goose bumps to her arms and a wave of memories. “How…?” she asked in a whisper, slightly shaken for the first time.

“That in itself is a long story. One I do not think I can summarize so easily. But my play-through of it eventually led us to be together, as we had agreed to discuss it over dinner. Which by the way, The Arthur J. is a wonderful restaurant. Superb choice of venue.”

“The Art-” she stuttered for a second. “We went there just last…”

He nodded, knowing the tangent she was on. “One of the reasons she suggested we go there, she said we didn’t have the risk of running into anyone we knew since you’d eaten there right before us.”

“She certainly is a clever one.” She beamed.

Just then the employee returned, nearly out of breath. “Oh gosh ma’am, I’m so sorry this took so long.”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Young replied sweetly. “You’ve been an excellent help.” They followed the girl to the queue for the registers and made their purchase. She handed the bag and receipt to him to carry as they returned to her car.

“See, you didn’t really need me to come along.” He smirked once they slipped into their seats.

“Not at all.” She answered with just the same amount of perk. “But I pretend to know less than I do since it makes Samuel bend over backwards trying to ‘help me out’ and it’s the cutest thing ever.” She laughed while making the quotation marks.

“Diabolical.” Charlie remarked. Now he was beginning to see that femme charm Samara had lassoed him with. “I must say, it is a relief that you and Dr. Hadar are at least supportive…I still have my neck intact.”

The mother sighed. “Ah yes…about that…”

“Oh I didn’t mean-” he began, not realizing he’d opened a Pandora’s Box.

“No Charlie, I do have to explain.” She lamented. “Although it does not excuse his behavior in the slightest. He is a grown man and knows right from wrong. But Jaymes has always had this temper about him. Mostly a quiet child, calm and collected, book smart and caring…Watching his sister spend most of her childhood in the hospital took an unseen toll on him.”

She paused as she made a fierce dodge around a slow vehicle, immediately making Charlie believe that Sam learned how to drive from her.

“Ah, sorry about that. Anyways, he couldn’t stand to see her suffering from being ill, especially on days she came from home school in tears from bullies. Luckily she had Angela there beside her for most of that, them being in the same grade and in mostly the same classes. But Jay believed there wasn’t a boy out there good enough for her, and sadly for the most part, he was right.”

Charlie listened and waited for more of the story. He had his own bully tales.

“There was a boy she was friends with, she had a crush on. He turned her down in quite a rude fashion, and stopped being friends with her as well. Jay did not take that well at all. My son…I suppose we all felt the need to protect her at all times.” She wrapped up quickly, the emotion starting to rise.

“The one thing Samara and I do fight about…is her being independent. Even when she’s hurt…she refuses to ask for help. And she thinks anyone offering it is coddling her.”

“That would be our fault.” The mother bitterly confessed. “When you’ve come close to losing a child even once-but on more than one occasion-it’s nearly impossible to fight that urge to keep them safe.” She turned to Charlie with a dead serious expression, filled with sad eyes. “You should be prepared…for the worst…if you truly care for her and you want a future with her, then do not let Jay or my husband come in between the two of you. Take the time you have and run with it.”

Her foreboding words struck a chord within him. He had felt the same way after their first night together, but merely thought he’d been overreacting with the emotional rush.

Mrs. Young turned her focus back to driving and they spent a few minutes in heavy silence as she returned to the familiar section of town. “I apologize for springing such a dark subject onto you but I’ve come to the mindset that my daughter is going to live her life as if each day could be her last, and I don’t want an opportunity for happiness to be wasted on fear. That only leads to regret, and we all have enough of that in our lives. Whatever happened between her and Ben is in the past, a lesson we all sadly had to learn from. And I’ve seen enough strength in my daughter that not very men can claim they have. So I hope you are up to the task Charlie.”

“I may not know exactly what it is I’m doing, but I’m giving her all I have to give. She…is…my light.”

Mrs. Young smiled genuinely, happy tears collecting in her eyes. She knew exactly what he meant. He exited the car and jogged over to the elevator before she reversed and pulled away, heading back to the penthouse to do a bit of chores before she’d be needed to bring Sam back home after her shift.

Charlie bounded back into the office with fire in his feet, on his mission to not only give Samara the new mouse she’d need but also with all the excess work he’d have in store for the day. There was no shortage of it either. After opening up the package, placing in batteries and inserting the chip it was synced to the office laptop and ready for her awkward handling. She immediately hated it but knew there was no other choice. Bad enough her spelling was atrocious when she would text, now this weird handed waving to do things she already knew how but only in reverse.

It dawned on her that Charlie was going through the same thing, relearning something he already knew but in the opposite fashion. With that thought in mind she withheld any more complaints she might have voiced and tried getting herself acclimated to the device.

After his departure with her mother everyone gathered in the conference room as she had requested, all seeing her brace and about to say something when she hushed them, told them to take a seat, and waited for Lucy to follow up and join.

“I’m going to make this brief, since we all still have catching up to do, and you’ll more than likely be taking on what Charlie and myself cannot handle.” She started. Then she held her hand out for all to see. “This happened Saturday and is a Boxer’s Fracture, courtesy of my former sister-in-law’s face.”

“Damn girl.” Umed cracked. “We better keep you locked up on Saturdays from now on.”

“What in the world happened?” Lucy asked over the guys making remarks and exclamations.

“I figured I’d blow off steam and go Charlie to his fencing class, and yeah, she was there too. Though I expected she had a snide remark or two, I wasn’t prepared for the verbal attack…and her getting in my face. Next thing I knew, I punched her, right in the nose.”

“You’re a bad ass, my dude.” Jacob replied with a thumb’s up.

Sam smiled at the compliment from someone she considered like a little brother. “Yeah well that moment of badassery has cost me two broken fingers and around four months of healing, so everyone, please bear with me as I fumble my way through this with the same amount of grace as everything else in life.”

“Don’t worry girl, we got your back.” Alex stated, the others nodding as if had been voted their spokesman and they merely agreed. “Whatever you need, we’re on it.”

“Thanks guys.” She said and adjourned the meet so Lucy could return to the reception desk and the men to their cubicles. Work mode was back on.

The days to come would be just as the Monday before, with Mrs. Young taking care to assist her daughter in dressing, cooking and driving to work and back. She allowed Sam just one hour with her arm out of the brace, which at least half of that hour was spent soaking in the tub. With gentle and careful practice she was able to secure the hand back in place. It was a new kind of bonding time for them, seeing as they had the penthouse to themselves and they were free to talk. It wasn’t easy, shooing away Samuel at first, but her mother had firmly put her foot down and had won.

Sam was surprised to finally see her mother’s support of her adult life, her past “relationships”, and her current one.

“I never realized you felt that way.” She sat in awe, with a bowl of ravioli in her lap as they took place on the living room couch.

“You’ve been so secretive in these past years; it was hard to approach the subject. It seemed like every time I got too close, you’d withdraw again.”

Sam shoved a ravioli in her mouth and nodded, her eyes cast aside. It was a hard truth to swallow. “I’m sorry mom…I just needed to be able to do something on my own, and not have it be brought to the family table for open discussion. And you know that’s exactly what those two would do.” She made no pretense, referring to her brother and father.

“Well there’s not going to be any more of that.” Her mother stated matter-of-factly. “I want your father to retire just as much as you do and get some free time in before the grandchildren start arriving.”

Sam choked on her ravioli and spent a few minutes recovering with harsh coughs and long droughts of water. “Excuse me?”

Her mother cast a green gaze at her. “Well I assume you’re using protection but Jay and Ruth have been together long enough now….” She trailed off, leaving Sam to shudder with the thought of her brother getting’ jiggy with it.

“Have you spoken with Charlie yet?”

“About what?” Sam worried.

“About anything dear.” The woman replied. “I know this week has been hard.”

“Are we going to discuss what you two talked about on Monday?” she retorted. “I know that’s why you dragged him along. Like heck you needed help finding a left-handed mouse.”

Samantha beamed. “I merely did my motherly duty, gauging him for myself. You don’t need me to tell you what he thinks of you, now do you?”

The blush on her daughter’s cheeks was more than enough of an answer.

“Have you two even had a second date?”

Sam blew out a breath. “I kinda ruined our second date…” she drawled, lifting her hand up as proof. “And then you guys blitzed us with a surprise visit…so no, we haven’t.”

“Call him.” The matriarch ordered, placing Sam’s phone in her hand. “Make time.”
…………………

Lounging in bed with his book, Charlie was taken by surprise at the unexpected trill of his cellphone on his nightstand. At this hour, it could only be one person. He smiled, seeing the name and slid his thumb across the screen.

“Hello beautiful.” He greeted in his husky tone reserved only for her.

He heard a nervous giggle and a throat clearing. “H-hi Charlie…I have you on speaker…and my mom is here with me…”

He sat up straight, as if it mattered. “Ah, hello there Mrs. Young. How’s your patient this evening?”

“She’s fine dear. We’ve finally gotten into the swing of things ‘round here.” Came the warm response. “I’m making my way out but before I go I’d like to know what plans you have for tomorrow, or the weekend?”

Charlie blinked a few times.

“Mom!” Sam whined in humiliation. “I can set a date up myself!”

“Yes, but who will drive?” came the quick reply.

“We can take a cab! Hey, where are you going with that?”

Mrs. Young switched off speaker mode and brought the cell to her ear. “Charlie dear, I hope you don’t mind if I offer to be the chauffeur for the two of you?”

“WHAT?” he heard the boom of the Young Shark.

“I-I actually hadn’t made any plans…” he confessed.

“Well good, I’ll drive both of you after work. You can get changed and I’ll even watch over Bowser for a while. How does that sound?”

“You know about Bowser?” he inquired, completely thrown off track by this conversation.

“Of course! He’s the cutest little thing!” she exclaimed. He could hear muffled complaints from Samara in the background. “Did you know that Sam has a pic of him as her wallpaper?” she whispered like a gossiping teenager.

Charlie brought a hand to his mouth to mute his laughter. He could clearly picture the scenario playing out, of Samara trying desperately to retrieve her phone from her mother, and her mother purposefully embarrassing her like every parent does on occasion. Perhaps making up for the lack of that opportunity from years ago.

“Wonderful. We’ll see you tomorrow then.” She concluded her conversation with him, handing the phone back to Sam with an audible kiss to her forehead. “Get some rest sweetie; I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sam rubbed her forehead and sighed, watching her mother walk victoriously out of the penthouse. “I swear my family exists merely to embarrass me.”

“Believe it or not, but my family has done the same to me…in their own fashion.” He offered in comfort. “It’s good to finally hear from you.”

“Oh me too…you’ve been putting in so much work with everything…thank you.” She sniffed, almost on the verge of tears with emotion. It didn’t help that this week had also been that dreaded time of the month, so everything was setting her off.

“Samara…are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine. Don’t mind me.” She dismissed with a wave of her busted hand, as if he could see it. “How’s the driving coming along?”

He blew an exasperated breath. “I’m just glad I have a tutor who has been there, done that and seen it all. He’s patient and understanding. I literally feel your father’s eyes on me even across the parking lot.”

“You know he’s trying to intimidate you, right? He wants to shake you up to see what it takes.”

“Well he’s quite good at it.” Charlie chuckled. “I don’t know how many more of these silent car rides I can take with him. He’s trying to get me to break the ice.”

“Oh Charles, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

Sam bit the inside of her cheek, feeling her cheeks flush. Didn’t matter that she saw him earlier that day, talking with him still made her feel like a nervous teenager. Especially when he started saying things like that.

“Any idea what your mother has in store for us?”

“Not a clue.”

“She literally is forcing us to go on a date and is kidnapping my dog, should I be concerned?” he laughed.

“Did she say anything to make you feel concerned when you went shopping together?”

“No darling, she was merely curious about us as any mother would be. I just filled in a little background information for her.”

“Both of you are being tight-lipped. Don’t think I can’t tell.” She said flatly.

“It’s not a secret.” He confessed that much at least. Not until she learned to translate Welsh…
……………………………..

Friday at last. But what a Friday is was.

It started off normal, with Sam and her mother riding together into work after the usual morning routine. Today’s outfit was a simple sleeveless blouse and pencil skirt, her hair up in a bun with a jeweled pin in place. Mrs. Young took pride in her little touches to her daughter’s wardrobe. In retrospect, Sam was reminded of her college days when Monica was teaching her all about fashion, using her as a model as she formulated color palettes and patterns that Benjamin easily drew up as she stood on a stool.

What fun times they had….

Such a team…

Sam inhaled, taking in the memory with its usual grain of salt, but not letting it lodge in her throat and burn. That was before any of us got serious, we were all just friends then….I can keep that in the Happy Memories box…

“Mom, I know it’s kinda late…but…thanks.” She said, standing in front of her mirror.

Mrs. Young wrapped an arm around her daughter from behind, rubbing her cheek against Sam’s. “It’s never too late. And you look lovely.”

Charlie selected his soft gray suit and a black vest to pair with his red tie. With all the extra work he’d been picking up, and the driving lessons, he’d let his necktie practice slide as well as his fencing for the week. So, the Windsor knot it was, since it was the only one he knew. Either way, he was sure no one paid much attention to the knot of his tie. He knew that today there was a client Samuel was greeting and giving a tour of the facilities to so he made sure he looked his business best. No casual Friday attire this week.

Arriving at the office, Sam greeted Lucy with her usual smile, receiving the redhead’s bright eyes one in return at seeing her new jeweled hairpin. Lucy was unabashedly a fan of Mrs. Young’s fashion choices and made no qualms about it. No mail today, but Lucy told her to expect to have to sign for a delivery that was due to arrive at some point that morning.

Sam winced at the thought of having to write with either hand. As a Righty, it was going to be difficult in a brace, and it’d be a god awful scribble if she tried it left-handed. She nodded as passed the desk, heading for her office. Hard enough getting used to the new computer mouse, it was the struggle of creating new muscle memory as she slid into her seat and woke the computer. She had just gotten it underway when her door opened and in stepped Charlie, looking delicious as ever.

‘My god, he knows how to wear a suit…’ her eyes flicked over his whole body. ‘And this isn’t even tailored for him…God; he’d own a tailored suit like a king…’

“Samara?” he asked, bringing her out of her daydream.

“Oh. Sorry…Just still waking up.” She fibbed, rubbing the corner of her eye.

“Would you like a cuppa from the break room?”

“Yes please.” She slouched with dramatic flair as if he’d suggested a foot massage and being hand-fed chocolates. She craned her neck off to the side of her monitor to catch a glimpse of those tight buns filling out every inch of fabric in those kitten gray slacks. By the time she was logged into the system he was returning with a steaming mug, milk and sugar added as he had figured out her preference for it from serving tea that day in his flat. She took the mug gingerly with her left hand and sipped, feeling the rush of caffeine in it complex mix of sweet and bitterness. A hot liquid kick in the teeth to start the engines.

“Ohhhhhh.” She moaned in delight.

Charlie had to mentally clench at that sound. “Ahem….Missus Young.” He cleared his throat, trying to pull her back to reality.

She tossed him a smirk when she set her mug down. “Don’t tell me that disturbed you, Mr. Jones?”

“For god’s sake Samara, you moan any louder and your father will burst in here like the Kool-Aid man.” He whispered hoarsely. “And he’s supposed to be making his rounds soon.”

She flicked a dismissive wave at him. “You worry too much. Alright let’s hear what you’ve got to say this morning.”

Placing his hands on his hips, he cocked his head to the side. “How many more of these do you intend for me to do? I feel like I’ve covered everything.”

“Tell me what you love about yourself Charlie. And make me believe it.” She ordered as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, with her elbows firmly rooted on her desk. “I’m certain you haven’t covered everything.”

“Alright, if you insist. I love that I at least have your mother’s support as your boyfriend.” He answered quickly; making sure no one was around to hear it.

She picked up the mug and took a second sip. “You make a good cup Jones.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t had a single cup from The Daily Grind since Monday?” he inquired, fidgeting with the button of his jacket.

“Yeah, Link.” She answered stoically.

“Oh.” He replied. “Because of last Saturday?”

“That and this.” She held up her right hand. “He blames you….can’t say he doesn’t have some grounds to stand on but he wouldn’t let me explain.”

Before Charlie could say anything, her desk phone rang. Sam pushed the speaker button, addressing Lucy. The receptionist informed her that she was needed at the front to sign. She thanked her and disconnected, pushing away from her desk and standing. “We’ll talk bout this later, I don’t wanna bring that drama in here.”

He nodded in agreement as she caught up to him and he held open her door. He followed in step as she strolled the length of the hallway and rounded the corner to Lucy’s desk. She was making her usual flirtatious eyes at Fred and the package sitting on the desk needing her signature. She was fairly certain it was the dozen new tablets her father had ordered for the staff.

“Charlie, could you take this back to my office?” she asked, seeing as its size alone required two hands.

“Of course.” He answered, nimbly hefting it off the desk and turning on his heel. Fred finally made his verbal exit from Lucy and turned to her with his usual grin.

“Morniiiiiiing.” He drawled out, seeing her braced hand as she reached for the signature pad.

“Hi Fred.” She sighed, picking up the stylus and struggled making a decent squiggle that only a doctor could read. When she handed it back he gently grasped hold of the brace so he could take a better look.

“What happened here?” he asked, his voice laced with concern that sent Lucy’s inner romance radar off, especially when Charlie had returned on silent feet, seeing the delivery man handling HIS girlfriend’s wounded arm. Sam was struggling to find something to say when she found her arm being plucked straight out of Fred’s weak hold and brought up against his chest.

"My boss would prefer a man keeps his hands to himself, if you would be so kind." He replied with thinly veiled venom under that polite overcoat. His eyes glared icy daggers down at the ginger, who promptly took a step back. Charlie forced Sam’s arm back down to her side and released his hold, still standing directly behind her. She could feel the tension bristling between them.

“Sorry if I overstepped my bounds, but Sam happens to be an acquaintance of mine.” Fred said in his defense. “Surely there’s no harm done, right?”

“It’s best if no one touches it.” Sam was able to say before her assistant could advance. “I’m fine, really.” She assured him. “See ya.” She waved it weakly, just to show that she could move it.

Fred nodded, picking up the signature pad and tipping his hat to both the women and making his exit. Lucy had sat stiff and silent throughout the whole exchange until whistling out that exhaled breath. “That went well…” she delivered dryly, then whipped her head back as Sam pushed past Charlie and stormed off back down the hall. Charlie followed a second later, finally being heavy footed for once, for she heard every stride of his to her office before the door shut firmly.

She flinched from the harsh sound, heart thumping in her chest at the incoming dispute about to go down between the lovers.
………………………

“Do you care to explain what that was about?” Charlie demanded as soon as the door shut loudly behind him.

“What?” she snapped as she approached the box he had placed on her desk.

“I’m gone for half a bloody minute and there’s the delivery man, with his HANDS on you. That. That I would like explained.” He growled, crossing his arms angrily. “An acquaintance?”

“Yes Charlie, an acquaintance…just drop it.” She replied in a gruff tone as she reached over and pulled the letter opener from its slot. She dragged it across the tape sealing the flaps and then sheathed it.

“I asked you, did I not?” he advanced towards the desk and took the entire box out of her grasp and set it in one of the chairs nearby, startling her. She backed up against her desk as he turned to face her. “I specifically asked if there was anyone else I needed to know about.”

“Well excuse me for not giving you an inventory list of all my lovers!" she spat in a raised voice that was just a level below yelling. “I didn’t think of him because it was just a short lived fling.”

“I can’t believe you.” He growled with a shake of his head. “You want me to be honest with you and you can’t even do the same for me.”

“That’s not fair-”

“The hell it isn’t!” he snapped back, leaning into her face enough to make her tilt backward a bit. “You put it in the damn contract, No Secrets, No Lies….Or was that only for me, since you know I’m not even halfway as good as you are at hiding it?”

She gasped with hurt implied and found her hand raised and swinging his way, only to stop short with it caught firmly in the grasp of his own right hand. “Let’s not cause further damage to this shall we?” he suggested, holding the braced arm as he stared her down. “So now I will ask you one last time, and you will tell me the truth.”

Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths, the anger building, climbing up the thermostat with each second. He wasn’t letting her go, nor was he giving her any space to get away, keeping her firmly in place. “There isn’t anyone else, and if you don’t let me go, there won’t be a You either.”

“What’s the point of our contract if we’re going to break all the rules in the first week?”

“You can’t act like this whenever another guy is around me.” She yanked her arm free of his grip and cradled it close to her chest. “I’m not your property.”

His hand then took hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I NEVER said you were property, nor did I treat you that way. And I’ll be damned if you accuse me of that again.” His eyes stared two frostbitten holes into her soul, making her feel the pain she had inflicted upon him. “I told you, I wasn’t going to let another man think he even stands a chance of taking you away. But if you want to leave, then say it. But say it to my face.”

A bitter silence settled in the air between them, the emotional current leaving them adrift in a present lull.

“Char-rles…” she gasped, her breath shallow, a wheeze pinching her ribs as she inhaled. He felt her body waver and suddenly reached out to take hold of his vest as another wheeze rattled in her chest. Her face had brightened to a vibrant red that had not subsided. He knew immediately she had emotionally overdone it and was now in the thralls of an anxiety induced asthma attack.

“Samara, breathe in through your nose, calm yourself.” He coached, his firm hold of her chin instantly turned into a soft cradle. “I’m sorry.” He apologized in a small voice, trying to bring the atmosphere down. “Where is it?”

With a shaking hand, she pointed to her leather briefcase. It rested on the floor against the shelf. He took her left hand and brought it down to support her weight on it against her desk so that she could stand on her own for just the brief moment it would take him to retrieve it. He flipped open the front pocket flap and fished around for a second, pulling it out and shaking it for her. When he handed it back to her, her hand shook wildly.

Her first breath was ragged and painful, the spritz of Albuterol just a light dusting against the constriction in her lungs. He held her steady as she inhaled a second time, feeling her regain control of her breathing. She leaned her forehead against his chest for a moment to gather her bearings.

“I’m terribly sorry fo-” he began.

“Not now….” She panted, too physically drained to carry on that conversation.

“Of course.” He replied. They were at work after all. They’d barely gotten a moment to recover when the door opened with a succession of quick knocks and the heavy footfalls of her father entering the room.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Young immediately demanded.

‘Cachu.’ Charlie mentally swore to himself, he was in too compromising a position to deny anything. “Missus Young was having an attac-” he started explaining.

“Someone’s cologne.” She abruptly stated, still short of breath.

Samuel came marching right up to them. He saw the signs of distress upon his daughter’s face, sweat beading her brow, a pinkish hue to her visage, the exhaustive huffs with each breath. But she had her inhaler in hand, and the support from her assistant, who seemed extremely nervous at being seen holding her. “Let’s get her seated somewhere comfortable so she can catch her breath.”

“There’s a sofa in my office.” Charlie offered.

“Good, take her there.” Samuel ordered, stepping over to the CO2 meter on the wall, scrutinizing the readings. “I should have the filtration system checked. It’s supposed to circulate and dispense fresh burst of air every other minute so there shouldn’t be any lingering air-born triggers….” He said out loud as he looked over the device. He turned back around to see Charlie sweep his arm under Sam’s knees and scoop her effectively into his arms and carry her off to his office without so much as a whisper.

Normally, he’d had charged any man who dared get close to his princess, but circumstances were different, his daughter’s medical condition trumped his personal comfort. And as her assistant, Charlie would need to know how handle her in such a crisis if they were alone. He followed after them, observing the young man’s handling of her. His hands remained in neutral places and did not “accidentally” trail over to where they shouldn’t as he set her on the sofa and propped up her back with the bundle of throw pillows.

“Thank you.” She murmured as her feet were lifted to rest on the other cushion, much like she had done for him when she brought him back from the clinic. Charlie stood up and brushed off his suit, adjusting his tie and sleeves before stepping aside for Samuel.

“Do you need anything?” he inquired, ready to call the Armed Forces at her slightest request, as always.

“Just my phone, and my coffee.” She answered, shifting her feet out of her heels.

“On it.” Charlie stated, marching out of the office.

“Sorry dad, I don’t think I have the energy to help give the tour today.”

Knelt down, Samuel place a large hand over her own, patting it in comfort. “You just rest and regain your strength. If you need anything, you immediately call.”

A second later Charlie returned with her requested items, the mug not hot, but a noticeable degree less than the steaming fresh brew he’d presented to her earlier. She took it gingerly and sipped; the hot caffeinated liquid opening up her passageways and revitalizing her body in some small measure. Her phone sat in her lap as she assured the two men she would be alright.

“Jones, I’m going to need you to step in on the tour. I trust you’ve familiarized yourself with the facilities?”

“Probably not as much as you’d like me to be, but I know enough.” He answered honestly.

“It’ll have to do.” Samuel resigned with a sigh. “They should be here any minute.” He turned to his daughter. Before he could say anything she beat him to the punch.

“I’m fine now. Go on dad, don’t let this fluke throw you off.” She waved him away, insisting he remain professional. He gave a nod and led the way out of the office, Charlie lingering, caught between wanting to have a moment with her and needing to fall in line.

“I’m alright.” She whispered, bringing her right arm over to comfortly rub on her left, her eyes cast ever so slightly to the side. It was all they had time to exchange before Charlie quickened his pace and followed the CEO. Once alone, she picked up her phone and opened up the text message inbox. Before she made any decision, there was someone she needed advice from.
……………………….

Samuel charged by Lucy’s desk with Charlie on his heels, giving her analytical gears something to pump furiously on as she watched them exit the main hub and head towards the lobby. It didn’t look like a funeral march, but there was a gray cloud hanging overhead. Considering that little exchange she’d only caught bits of, she imagined that Charlie and Sam were still caught up in their little tiff.

Her phone pinged, a muffled little bird call from the depths of her purse, but loud enough to draw her attention. As the receptionist, her focus was more aimed at the company phone, but texts and calls to her cell were allowed as long as they were from fellow employees or top tier clients that couldn’t get through the business lines of communication. She didn’t have to fret about being caught with her phone as long as it didn’t interfere.

It surprised her to see the text was from Sam. And she was in a group text.
…………………

“Your cologne, has it offended her senses?” Samuel inquired as they stood in the lobby.

“Not at all Sir. I read the employee handbook and made doubly sure that all products I used have not triggered her asthma.”

“Did anyone come by, however briefly?”

Charlie swallowed an uncomfortable lump. Would it be considered an underhanded move to mention the delivery man? But then again, if he denied it and another employee informed him that he had indeed been there, it still would be a lie by omission and that was not something he’d tolerate on his conscious.

“There was a delivery man here for a short while.” He struggled saying it so casually. “I carried the parcel back to Missus Young’s office so I was not present for much of the exchange.”

Samuel’s arms sat crossed against his chest as he nodded to himself. “I’ve told them they need to keep their employees aware of her asthma. Looks like I’m going to have to remind them…”

Something about the way he said ‘remind’ sent a little chill down Charlie’s spine. He sure didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that conversation. He did his best to remain composed as his CEO filled him in on their upcoming guest and how a tour of their company could clinch a deal. He felt like an ass for getting Samara so worked up in their argument, a stupid fight he’d started as well.

He felt uneasy with how she had so casually threatened to end things between them. And now they had not had time to reconcile, she sitting in his office all alone with her thoughts, was she still considering that?
……………………………

Sam made a group chat consisting of Lucy, Dee, Ruth and her mother. Then as a last minute thought, she added Vikki in. Her private army of supporters, the only ones who knew about her relationship with Charlie. Surely one of them would be able to help her figure this out.

SY: just had a bad fight wit Charlie and IDK what t do

Lucy: it’s normal for couples to fight

Mom: you’re at work and had a fight? Did anyone overhear?

Lucy: I only overheard a little bit but from what I can tell, Mr. Young doesn’t know what’s going on.

Vikki: what was your argument based on?

SY: Christ, I forgo that you don’t know. I broke my right hand by getting nto a fight wit Eva. And today the delivery guy was asking about it…and hlding my brace. Charlie got…IDK…jealous? And it just went from there

Dee: oh girl

Mom: honey, it’s only natural for him to be jealous when another man is giving you attention. Your father was like that…and still is.

Lucy: Fred kinda went too far…honestly, he didn’t have to take hold of your arm like that, so I understand where Charlie is coming from

SY: I had a short fling with Fred, ok? It was lst year. That’s why he flirts when he’s here and said we wre acquaintnces

Lucy: oh…

Mom: ahh

Dee: really?

Vikki: have you been forthright with this information?

Sam sighed. Bad enough she had the fight with Charlie…now she was having to confess this to her mother and friends.

SY: …….. I forgot to…..

Mom: well that makes sense now. He believes you haven’t been honest with him?

SY: yeh and we said some terrrible thingz to each other

Mom: where is he now?

Lucy: with Mr. Young, meeting a client for the tour. That should take a good 30 mins, right?

Dee: why aren’t you doing the meeting? Isn’t that your thing?

SY: I threw myself into an attack. Needed inhaler. Dad told hom to have me rest on the couch

Mom: I’ll be right over

Lucy: do you need anything?

Vikki: the two of you need to sit and have a talk. You need to be open with him as he has been with you.

Dee: hey momma, swing by the DG and I’ll have a cup waiting for ya

Mom: will do, thank you Dee. Lucy, please keep an eye on her

Lucy: of course

The conversation came to a sudden halt, as Lucy’s familiar clicking gait sounded in the hall and up to the door, which the men left open. Lucy found her slouching against the handful of throw pillows, phone in hand, coffee mug set on the floor.

“Hey…” she called softly to her friend, pulling a chair from the table and stopping it short of the plush couch. “Are you okay?” she reached out and took hold of Sam’s left hand.

“I didn’t want to have to come out and say that…I know you have had a crush on Fred for a while…”

“Oh that’s what has you upset?” Lucy asked. “Sam, don’t take this the wrong way but I pretty much thirst for anything with two legs and a pulse. A single lady like me sees all this eye candy as a buffet that I can select what I want. But I appreciate you taking me into consideration. If it’s weird for you, let me know, I won’t go chasing after any of your previous fellas.”

Sam released a relieved sigh. “Okay, that does take a weight off my shoulders. God, I thought you’d hate me for that.”

The bubbly redhead laughed. “As if!” She stood and picked up the coffee mug. “I’mma head back to my post. Hit me up if you need anything. I’ll let your mom know you’re in here when she arrives.”

“Thanks Lucy.” Lucy had only taken a few steps before Sam spoke again. “I mean it. I think I really needed that kick in the pants last week.”

Lucy smiled an award-wining smile, eyes twinkling. “I’ll kick you in the pants any time you need it girlfriend.”
…………………………..

Samantha Young wasted no time in driving from the penthouse and straight to the office, regardless of having done it less than an hour ago. Her daughter’s needs were always a priority, and this had been a first, her texting from work and needing her like this. Not only from the asthma attack, but the relationship advise as well. She revved the engine and fought the traffic, making it to the Daily Grind in record time, Dee standing outside with a hot to-go cup for Sam. Coffee was not only Sam’s drug of choice, but it happened to be a natural but weak bronchodilator, which would improve lung function for an hour or two shortly after consumption. While in no way a remedy for her severe attacks, it did assist in the aftermath as she needed to remain calm and recharge her body.

“She loved this new blend.” Dee said, handing it in through the window.

“Dee, you’re with me on this right?” Mrs. Young asked, setting the travel cup in its holder. “We’re not letting this opportunity slip by.”

“No we’re not.” Dee replied with determined nod.

Dodging and weaving traffic like a pro, Mrs. Young crossed the lanes and miles and swung into the parking lot in about half the time it normally took to get there. The morning rush having already dispersed in their usual slot of time was a big contributing factor. She walked like a woman on a mission, red coffee cup in one hand, pushing doors open with the other. As she rounded the corner in the entrance of the cubicle hub, Lucy flagged her down and pointed out that she was in the assistant’s office.

With a kind nod, she kept in stride and took the right instead of the left doorway in the hall. She found Sam curled up on the couch, tissues in hand and wiping at her eyes. “Oh Sam honey…” she tsked at seeing her daughter in such a state.

“Mom…” she sat up and blotted her damp eyes before sliding her glasses back on properly. She pulled her feet and tucked them in to give her mother room to sit. The coffee cup was a welcomed sight, still hot too.

“I’m sorry to make you come back all this way again.”

“Hush now. You’d know I do it in a heartbeat, now tell me what’s gotten you like this?” she soothed her daughter’s hair and listened to her lay out the terrible turn of events. It didn’t take her long to figure out the underlying cause of it all, or that her daughter’s emotional state was still being dominated by a certain biological function.

“This is not the end for you two. My dear, every couple will fight-and even though it’s been a while since your father and I have, we still do. You just don’t live at home to witness them.”

“But I…I was so harsh…I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Honey, that’s why we have the regret and we apologize afterwards.” She smiled, handing Sam a new tissue. “And making up is usually the best part of an argument, wouldn’t you say?”

Sam smirked, knowing that was a straight up FACT. Having calmed in body and mind, she was sitting up and drinking her coffee when the doorway filled the giant frame of her father and her assistant. Her mother’s unannounced visit was an unexpected surprise to both of the men. As usual though, her mother was able to quickly take control of the conversation, the situation, and the entire room. The woman worked wonders with just a handful of words and sweet smiles.

She placated the easy emotionally worked up Samuel Young like the Ringmaster in the circus, and soon had him on her arm and escorting her out of the office, leaving Charlie and Sam alone to sort out their apologizes to each other which her husband was none the wiser-for now.

Charlie had quietly closed his office door once the pair of parents exited the hallway and released a sigh. “Had I been alone with him another two minutes I’m sure he’d have started connecting dots.” He swiftly unbuttoned his gray jacket and folded it over the back of one of the chairs at the table and adjusted his tie.

“I have no excuses for my actions earlier Samara.” He stated flatly with a little shake of his head. “None at all. And I apologize for that barbaric display.” He stood at the table, hands braced on the back of the chair he’d just rested his jacket on, head cast low.

A resonating silence followed in the next breaths between them.

“Do you regret being with me?” he winced as the words slipped out of his mouth.

“No.” came a soft whisper of an answer. “Please…come here.”

He turned his head, seeing her blink at him with those darling doe eyes and pouty lips, hands clenching a wad of cried-in tissue. With a heavy sigh he pushed away from the table and took the two steps to drop at his knees before her. She reached for his hands, pulling them to rest within hers.

“I lost myself when things ended with Benjamin, I locked away the person I had been and threw caution to the wind with my mistakes. I didn’t want to have to bring it up and upset you. But now I see how wrong that was.” She explained, holding one hand and bringing the other to fix the loose tendrils that had fallen from their gelled hold.

“I regret many things, but not you.”

The smile that graced his lips was as pure and genuine as he had ever revealed, his eyes twinkling as the corners creased. He removed his hand from her lap and secured her waist as he pressed his chest against hers, lips claiming hers, fingers intertwined with hers, sinking into the plush cushion as their bodies collided as one entity. Let her father find them like this, he no longer cared. He’d known it a while now, she was his as much as he was hers.

“Charles...” she panted into his mouth. He pulled back just enough so she could speak. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before…and that scares the shit out of me.”

“Then that makes two of us. My heart beats only for you-I don’t care about anything else.” He confessed as their lips parted for a breath.

“I-I could break it…without realizing it…Are you sure you trust me with that?” her voice shook as she looked up at him, held captive by those magical orbs of crystalline opulence.

“Only you could break it Samara, it belongs to you.” He murmured against the soft skin of her cheek. He held her firmly yet not tight enough to constrict her breathing, holding her as if his very life depended on it. It comforted him to feel her clutching him just as tightly in return.

Belonging to someone didn’t sound so bad when they belonged to you as well.

Samara felt a hot bursting within her chest, praying to God it wasn’t something related to the attack as she held onto Charlie and promised herself that she would never again let her past mistakes prevent her from moving forward. From then on, she would keep nothing closed off from him, whatever he asked she would answer with the upmost truth.

A ping from her phone interrupted their moment, followed in rapid succession with more. His phone started pinging off too. Curious, they both reached for their cells, wondering what in the world was setting both off at once.

“Indigineer.” She whispered…
……………………………

Chapter Text

Phones dinging with notifications, Sam and Charlie pulled out of their embrace from each other and turned their attention to their mobile devices and opened the Indigineer app. At first, it was just another influx of comments in the thread from her game, followed by personal messages, Charlie’s too.

“What is happening?” he inquired with concern.

“He’s done something…” she whispered, eyes scanning through the comments, seeing the name Marshall Law mentioned at least a dozen times.

It dawn on him then. “His second run-through…”

She turned the volume down on her phone just to have a moment of clarity. The comments were mentioning a new game review video of his, posting the link and giving their opinion of it. And opinions we notably more positive than the first time.

“Charles…would you…?” she slowly drawled as she read, bringing her hand up and pointing in the direction of his desk. He nodded, knowing what she meant and brought up the site on his computer. He flicked his mouse down the comment section until he came upon the first one to include the link to his Viewtube site.

“Alright, it’s up.” He announced, pushing his chair back and allowing her to sit in it when she approached. He leaned forward, one hand braced on the desk, the other rested on the back of the chair as she clicked for the video to start. They waited with baited breath as Marshall’s face graced the screen with a subdued greeting compared to his usual boisterous introduction.

“Greetings gamers, as you’ve read in the title of this vid you’ll no doubt have questions such as “didn’t you already play this game” and “you sank this game’s ratings, haven’t you done enough” and you’d be right… But I was wrong.”

He took a breath and faced the camera with clear conviction.

“The truth is, while I did help with this game, it was in small measure. I wasn’t present for all the updates and decisions that went into the story. Therefore, I wasn’t prepared when I did my first run-through. And I let the memories involved with this certain period in my life overwhelm me…and it led to my lack of concentration. And as you recall, I was hospitalized a couple weeks ago.”

He picked up his nearby drink, which Sam immediately recognized as coming from the Daily Grind and took a sip.

“I’ve been diagnosed with a heart condition and I have to dial back on my exposure to triggers that could set me off. That means no horror theme games, anything with a jump scare, and even something overly emotional. I hope those of you who remain to be a dedicated fan will be patient as I try another avenue in my social media, so for right now I want you to experience Ruminate as it was meant to, by a wonderful woman I had the pleasure to once have in my life.”

He drummed his fingers across his desktop in dramatic fanfare.

“I now present to you: Ruminate’s second chance, as well as my own.”

The image of him faded out into black, with the title screen of her game fading in with its intro music playing. Sam hit the space bar immediately and sat stoically, swallowing a lump in her throat.

“I don’t think I can watch this right now…” her voice cracked.

His hand slid from the desk’s surface to cover her own. “It’s alright. We can watch this later. We should get back to work anyways.” His words brought her back to realization that they were still at the office and had to maintain their professional behavior. While it wouldn’t be unheard of for the manager to have to step in and take over another’s computer for a moment or two, she couldn’t linger here much longer. She was about to stand when Charlie pressed a hand onto her shoulder. “Hold on a moment.” He said before taking the pin out of her hair and undoing the hairband. He ran his fingers through the chestnut strands and gathered it back up, secured it with the band, and inserted the pin back as it had been before.

“Oh…thank you…” she replied shyly, as it had been unexpected, but as much as a surprise to her that he even knew how to fix up her hair. When she turned the chair around he held his hand to assist her to her feet-which were still barefoot.

“You’re welcome Missus Young.” That smile reappeared, the one that tugged at her so hard despite its simplicity. “May I ask if you are still receptive to the idea of another date with me?” his fingers trailed softly across her hand, triggering an electric response under her skin.

“I-I was actually…going to ask you that…” she sheepishly confessed, the apples of her cheeks brightening. He could not describe the sensation he experienced when she looked like that, that innocence she once had, it was if it had returned, just for him.

“You have me counting down the hours as we speak.”

Her knees wobbled with the husk in his accent, at what his words implied as she could only imagine how their evening would end. No other man she’d ever known had made her tremble with anticipation like this. Even her shy inexperienced evenings with Ben paled in comparison. She was more a bundle of nerves then to even revel in the realm of imagination. Having now taken that stroll in the Midnight Garden of Fantasies had her wanting to return every time she laid eyes upon him.
I might just be a little bit in love with him…just a little…
……………………..

The ever clever Mrs. Young had been able to deter any suspicions from her husband by having inquired to the meeting and tour he and Charlie presented their client and had him go over every detail until his focus had turned into genuine pleasure over discussing the deal. She loved how her husband brightened when talking shop, it was a trait Sam had inherited from him that even Charlie found endearing. Although talking shop was only one of many things she adored about him. They had walked and talked a bit until they found themselves out in the pavilion and strolled along the stone tile steps.

“That Charlie character…he likes to take his lunch out here.” He said out of the blue.

“Does he?” she feigned interest.

“I’ve been trying to get a read on that kid all week. He’s the quiet type for sure.”

His wife giggled. “You probably intimidate him too much for him to open up. I’m sure having being slammed into a refrigerator by our son hasn’t helped ease his anxiety either.”

Samuel groaned in his throat. “No, that sure would not help matters. And I’m trying my best not to jump to conclusions about him either. There’s just something I can’t quite explain…”

“Perhaps he reminds you of you, when you were younger.” She teased. “Ambitiously driven, a model employee, not that bad on the eyes….”

His neck snapped in her direction, brows tented. She twinkled with laughter at his expense. It never failed; his reaction was just too predictable. He huffed out a breath and allowed her to have her victory.

“Alright then, what do you think of him?” he asked her.

“I think Sam has chosen an excellent asset for the company. And they get along quite well with each other too, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

He nodded. That’s what had him so concerned…

“When was the last time Sam branched out and went somewhere other than work, the coffee shop, or home? And even spending time with us has been a challenge. But he’s made her comfortable enough to go to a fencing class….and we know it’s been YEARS since that has occurred.” She leaned on his arm and snuggled in close. “Would it be so terrible if they become…closer?”

The man stiffened at the last word.

“You’re just as bad as Jay, you know that?” she admonished. “Our baby girl is no longer a baby. She’s been slaving away trying to prove that to you for years. You said you’ve seen the hard work she’s put into proving she’s capable of being CEO, so why does the thought of her being with someone unsettle you?”

“It…does not…”

“Oh bullshit.” She barked, stopping their stroll.

“Honey, please...” he turned to her and felt her disapproving emerald gaze.

“Everyone makes mistakes Samuel Young, you and I are no exceptions. We each went through our own Hell before finding each other. Samara has walked her own trial by fire and has learned from it.”

Samuel always felt he was on the losing end whenever on the opposite side of a conversation with her. She had a way with words that was both true and undeniable. It made her a wonderful receptionist, oh how she had snared him with those fierce vermillion green eyes and glistening golden hair, but that sharp tongue and wit to match is what captured his heart and still held it firmly.

“The past has a way of repeating.” He lamented. “I can’t yet let this go, the company is one thing, one thing I know is in good hands and can be treated well….but for the man she chooses to be with….”

“It’s something you can’t control. And that’s why you have a problem with him.”

“Him?” Samuel echoed. “There’s a him?”

Samantha rolled her tongue across her luscious lips in contemplation. “There is.”

“And you’re just going to leave it at that?”

“I am.” She smugly answered. “That is all I will say. Let Samara have the company. Let her have whom she chooses. And you…” she spun on him, pointing a perfectly painted fingernail into his chest with that sultry lull of hers. “…will retire and let me have my husband all to myself for the first time in thirty years.”
………………..

Charlie carried the lunch tray as Sam picked out the items she wanted, her right hand no good at trying to get a grip on the slight curved edges. His face remained passive as she led the way through the lunch line, as if this was just another assignment for him to do, smiling at everyone who engaged with them as they encountered fellow employees. Secretly he took pleasure in being able to share this time together, while it may look as if he was in servitude, he’d offer to this regardless.

She led the way to her usual seat by the glass wall, overlooking the garden. He set the tray down and broke the seal on her bottled water as she sat down. Lucy came up with her tray, stopping short before Charlie started to turn away.

“Why don’t you join us?” she offered.

“That’s kind of you to offer but I don’t mind taking my lunch outside.” He declined with a smile, knowing that she was well aware of their little arrangement. She and Sam shared a little giggle as he started to depart, but was called over by Umed before getting very far.

“Oi, get you a plate and sit with the rest of us like a civilized computer geek.” He ordered, indicating over to a table he was claiming for the two of them. Charlie was about to make his usual protest but the hefty bodied Indian turned and gave him a serious look. “I insist Jones, there’s something I think you should know.”

Not liking the sound of that, Charlie obliged and joined Umed after securing his own lunch. Their table was off a ways from the ladies, but they still spoke in low voices. Umed leaned over first, breaking the ice. “Do you know anything about Ruminate?”

“Yes, her game on Indigineer.” He replied, shoulders easing from then tension built up from the suspense.

“Good, alright. You know about its first run-through video by Marshall Law?”

“I do.”

“He’s posted another video, this one explaining what went wrong the first time, and I should tell you-”

“I’m actually well aware of his past with Missus Young. “ Charlie cut him off. “He happens to be my next door neighbor, so I knew about him uploading the game in the first place. I did not connect the dots at first, but I’m caught right in the middle.” He took a bite of his sandwich, watching Umed’s eyes widen.

“Wow man, you really came in like a wrecking ball.” He joked.

Charlie shrugged, his eyes wandering over to Samara, seeing her head turn ever so slightly to look at him. They smiled before breaking their shared glance.

“You two are like teenagers in high school.” Umed snorted, enjoying the little scene. “Quit denying it man. Just tell her how you feel.”

“I have.” He replied, pride radiating out of him in palpable waves.

“Oh?” Now it was Umed’s turn to feel the flush of embarrassment. “I guess I don’t know a damn thing going on here, do I?” he chuckled. “That’s probably for the best anyways.” He made the zipper motion across his lips.

“Your silence is appreciated Umed, thank you.” Charlie remarked as his eyes once again flicked back to her direction for a second.

“Oh you know what they say, silence is golden.”
……………………………….

Sam made sure to keep her eye on the clock as she shifted the mouse across the screen and clicked save. Today had been taken at a slow pace, at the request/order of nearly the entire staff after hearing about her attack in the morning. Everyone promised they’d look into assignments they could take on to ease her workload, which had been a relief in more ways than one for her. Not only had it been difficult to get back into the swing of routine, but her mind had freely wandered like a hippie child in a field of daisies. How many times had she replayed their fight and making up now?

And now her nerves were getting to her once again, knowing the hour was ending and her mother would soon be arriving with whatever she had in mind for the two of them. And Bowser too, what was she going to do with him?

Having delved deep again into another rabbit hole, she had been caught unawares when her father knocked and entered the room. “Oh, dad!” she exclaimed once she snapped out of it.

“Hello dear.” He greeted, coming in to sit in one of the available chairs. “How’s today been for you?”

“Eh, not counting the attack, pretty normal.” She shrugged with indifference. “Thank god it’s Friday right?” she joked.

“Your mother tells me the two of you have a girl’s night out set for the evening.” He stated, causing her to freeze for a second. “I just want to be sure you have a mostly full inhaler before you go. We can always call the clinic for another refill.”

“Oh I’m good.” She immediately responded.

“Any nebulizer meds then?”

“Nope. Still got plenty.”

“What about that steroid tablet?”

“Oh they actually took that off the shelf in some sort of recall, but I already used my last of it about a month ago. No problems from what I can tell.” She assured him. “I’ve been keeping up to date with news of that.”

He nodded, knowing his daughter was always on top of her medical supply. “Good. Does Jones know to properly distribute your medication in case you’re unable to do so?”
She tapped her fingers together. “Well, I’ve never actually given him a demonstration on how it works but it isn’t hard to figure out. The inhaler is simple of course; he’s seen me use it before.”

“Should another incident happen like this morning when you’re out on the road or abroad for any reason I need him to be well versed in how to handle it. I think it’d be wise to have him carry a spare inhaler for you, as well as a few nebulizer tubes.”

“Oh?” that caught her off guard. “Yeah, totally.” She floundered, feeling idiotic for not thinking of that sooner. “I’ll see to that this weekend, so don’t worry.”

As a father, that was never going to happen, but at least the load could be lessened by a degree or two knowing she was in trustworthy hands. The young man was going to have to prove he was capable of handling anything when it involved his precious daughter.
…………………………..

Charlie had nearly managed to escape into the elevator and get on his way to the bus stop, but Mrs. Young was surprisingly quick in heels and had caught him. She insisted she give him a ride back to his apartment and he had no reason to refuse without it coming off as rude, no matter how politely explained. She could read his nervousness like a book and was determined to see him overcome it, however adorable she found it to be.

In the car, Sam had taken the rear driver side seat as Charlie slid into the other side. Once buckled and the engine started she scooted her hand over and gently brushed the bandaged arm against his. Although knowing there was nothing to be ashamed of, he was still cautious about taking her hand as they navigated their way through traffic to his apartment.

Once there, he excused himself and bounded up the stairs two at a time, promising he wouldn’t be long. It was then that Sam took a breath and confessed an unknown fact to her.

“Mom, you should know…Benjamin lives here too.”

Taken aback, Mrs. Young blinked a few times before turning around to face her daughter. “As in… your ex Benjamin?”

Sam nodded. “He’s a wildly popular internet gamer named Marshall Law now. So Charles and I didn’t know that at first. It was a complete shock.”

“I imagine so, just how big this city is and of all people, he has to move in next door?”

“It’s not just that Mom… Ben…Damn it, I mean Marshall. I’m trying to get used to calling him that. He collapsed a couple weeks ago.”

“Collapsed?” she echoed with concern.

“I was bringing dog food up for Bowser…and he was right there…then he dropped to the floor in a heap. Charlie started doing chest compressions while I dialed 911. I ended up going to the hospital and relayed all the information I had, and I also called Eva to inform her…It’s been too hard to even think about, let alone talk about it…but…well there it is.” She gestured with open hands.

Her mother’s face softened. “You always were so forgiving, so generous…and to do that…I can see why you’ve been so stressed.”

“I couldn’t say anything in front of the guys.”

“Of course not.” The blonde agreed wholeheartedly. “And we won’t. It’s not any of their concern…. So does this mean that Charlie and he… get along?”

Sam rocked side to side, unsure how to answer, luckily she saw him making his way down the stairwell and towards their car. He opened up his door and slid in, Bowser happily panting in his arms.

“Oh my goodness he’s even cuter in person!” she exclaimed, reaching forward for him to sniff her hand.

Sam looked Charlie over, seeing that he chose blue jeans, a casual V neck and a pair of Vans. Very comfortable and laid back from the suit and loafers from this afternoon. He’d mussed up his hair and even removed his contacts, replacing them with his delicate framed glasses. She hadn’t yet told him that she preferred seeing him like this, but maybe he already knew. While her mother’s focus was on his dog he winked at her from behind those wire frame lenses and sent her heart summersaulting.

“Well, shall we then?” she piped up, wanting to get out before either Marshall or Monica could pass by with their dog. Bowser wiggled out of Charlie’s hold and hopped up into the front seat, paws on the arm rest, nose pressed to the glass of the window.

“Sorry about that, he hasn’t had much experience riding in cars.” He apologized.

“Oh it’s fine.” She replied, kicking the car into gear and exiting the complex lot. She kept her attention split between the road and the dog with occasional sneaked glances at the couple in the backseat. It may be ten years late, but she was finally enjoying having this moment to chauffeur her daughter on a date. She refused to answer Sam’s query as to where she was taking them. “Not every date needs a planned destination.” She replied as they returned to the penthouse.

“I can just wait in the car.” Charlie offered.

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Young stated, putting the debate to rest. Sam and Charlie shared a sympathetic look with each other, unsure of what her mother had planned as they followed her into the lobby and took the elevator to the top. He was able to take repose in the living room with Bowser, who was all atwitter with excitement in the new location as the ladies took the stairs.

“You’re enjoying this way too much Mom. Really.” Sam complained as her mother helped unbutton her work blouse and slide her arms out. She undid the snap button on her pencil skirt and let it hit the floor.

“Of course I am.” The woman replied with perked up joy as she flung garment after garment aside in the closet.

“Just jeans and regular shirt. I don’t want to make him feel underdressed.”

“Aww, ever so thoughtful.” She murmured as she opened the drawer containing Sam’s blue jeans and cargo pants. “But still, show a little T & A just for the fun of it.” She selected a pair of skinny, high waist jeans and tossed them to her flustered daughter.

Sam groaned and slid on the jeans and pulled up the zipper, and struggled a moment with the snap button. But she had to admit, they hugged her ass like a pair of pantyhose. The next thing she knew, a lavender off-the-shoulder cut blouse was flying out of the closet and landed on her head. “Mom!”

“It’s a good top, baring the shoulders and won’t catch on your brace.” She stated matter-of-factly as she came up and undid her hair while Sam struggled to get the shirt on while having her head jerked around. Her mother worked swiftly, getting her bangs pulled back at into a braid at the back of her head. With a smack to her butt, she presented her work to the reflection within the closet. “You look wonderful, now let’s go snag ourselves a handsome Welshman.”

“I already snagged him…” Sam replied in a confused voice.

“Lol, of course honey. Do you have everything you need? Should I go pick you up a pack from the pharmacy?”

“Ohmygodmom!” she sucked in a horrified breath. “Are you kidding? What kind of question is that?”

“Obviously you two are sleeping together, and I know he had spent the night last week when we came to visit. Ruth told me. So, I’m just asking if you need any mor-”

“I do not. Thank you.” Sam flushed fuchsia, fanning her face and grabbing a plain white purse to carry what she did need to take along. Thank god Charlie was downstairs and unable to hear this little exchange.

When they came down the stairs she found Charlie seated in her lounge chair, Bowser in his lap, eyes cast off into the view the penthouse provided. Just as she imagined, he looked as if he already belonged here. The moment Bowser saw them he happily barked, turning Charlie’s head, and started bouncing with glee.

“Friendly little fellow, isn’t he?” Mrs. Young mused, presenting her daughter as Charlie immediately got to his feet. “I hope you won’t mind me spoiling him a bit?”

“He is on a diet, but otherwise, I doubt you’ll have any objections from him.”
………………….

“The mall?” Sam scoffed with disdain. She definitely had not been expecting that.

“Yes dear, the mall.” Her mother rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’ll be able to entertain yourself for a couple hours here.”

“We’re not kids.”

“I beg to differ. You’re under thirty, and it’s a rite of passage that everyone goes through, having a date at the mall.”

Sam was about to protest when Charlie took her hand. “The mall is fine Mrs. Young. I haven’t been here before so it’ll at least be entertaining for myself.” She shot him a squinty glare as he exited the car and came around to her door. When she took his hand she whispered “Suck up.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Don’t think of this as a romantic dinner date, this is a casual, getting to know you kind of date. You two can talk, go shopping, play in the arcade… Just be yourselves.”

She left them to contemplate what that meant as she drove away, Bowser bouncing happily in the front seat like he owned the car. Charlie couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed by his dog’s wavering loyalty, but then again had to hand it to him for having excellent judge of character when it came to the Young women. He offered his arm, to which Samara took and entered the grand retail complex.

“So, we just walk around and talk? And possibly do some shopping?” he smirked, feeling the need to lighten the tension. “This is an American idea of a date?”

“Well, I mean, for teenagers yes… This is a place for them to go, being too young for bars and clubs. There’s usually something fun here to do, but honestly…she is right…we do need time to just be ourselves.”

“I am all for us being ourselves with each other. Is there a bookstore in here?” he inquired, stepping up to the mall directory sign. Once he figured out their location-it helped with the big star indicating You Are Here-he suggested they make their way to the second floor to it.

“What kind of stuff do you read?” she asked, listening to him rattle off a list of great literary works, as introduced to him by his mother, whom she discovered was a teacher. That made sense; she would want her son educated in the masterpieces. Especially since many of those authors were English or European.

“I have recently discovered the manga craze.” He admitted, seeing her light up as she suggested several series for him to read, even offering to loan him some from her collection.

They strolled through the book aisles, commenting on whether they’ve read it or not, mentioning other works done by the same author, or other authors who had written a comparable piece. When they found themselves standing in front of the Language Section, Sam had barely begun to reach for a copy of how to speak Welsh when Charlie held her firmly in place and teased her ear with a well-placed accented whisper to her ear. “What do you need a book for when you have a perfectly good tutor right here?”

“A tutor who hasn’t taught me squat, you mean?” she laughed back at him.

He opened his mouth but froze when he realized she was right. “What would you like to know?”

“I want to know everything you’ve said to me…or are you keeping those particular thoughts to yourself?”

His cheeks began to brighten. “You might want to ask me that at another time…”

She leaned into him, pushing the matter as well as herself against him. “Just one thing then. Tell me one of them.”

“Now?” his voice barely above a whisper.

“If you really felt the words you’ve said, then you’ll have no problem saying them in public.”

Touché.

“Alright…I’ll tell you what I said on Monday.” He took a moment to collect his bearings before nuzzling against her cheek. “Fy anwylyd. Rydych chi'n ddigon. Which means ‘My beloved. You are enough’.”

Her body stiffened as his breath tickled her ear; the words reverberated through her with the memory of when they were first uttered as his lips had claimed hers in a passionate embrace. At a moment of insecurity, she had needed to hear those words more than anything.

“Samara…?”

“I’m fine!” she jumped with the automatic response.

“Are you certain you’d like me to continue?” he teased, knowing her blush meter was hitting at maximum. Seeing her act like this gave him a sense of mischievous pride in himself, embolden in a way to continue pushing her buttons. She shook her head and playfully pushed him away from her personal space so he couldn’t whisper anything else.

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to hear everything…” he smirked, the emphasis upon the last word straightening her back at his jeering. In response she had grabbed the book.

“I’m still buying this. Who knows, I might even surprise you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

After the book store they strolled past several more shops and boutiques, going back and forth on various tangents of conversation, Samara recalling some fun excursions she had on occasions with Angela and Vikki when they were younger. Having never met Angela, he inquired about her, vividly imagining the scene she laid out as she described her redheaded friend and the fun times they shared together.

“If anyone is a warrior princess, it’s her.” She laughed, swinging her bag from the bookstore merrily. He caught her wrist on its backswing.

“Standing up to an adversary such Eva Lawson took a great amount of grit from you. Knocking her a good one like that…mmmm.” He trailed off with a hum of admiration. “For a moment, you were a warrior. But you’ll always be my princess. Better yet, my queen.” He brought her hand up and graced her knuckles with a kiss.

“Stop that.” She giggled.

“Oh you like it, don’t lie.” He smiled devilishly. “I can tell that much.”

She nudged him with her elbow once she had her hand back. “Moderation Casanova, you can’t always use flattery to get what you want.”

“Ah but you see… that face you make, that’s what I want.”

She pulled her lips inward and tried her best to not let his words affect her so. Fruitless of course, she knew her face blossomed with a rosy hue that betrayed her mental command. He was far too gifted with words. Trying to distract him from anything further he could say, she pointed to the arcade as it came into view.

“Come on, I’ll show ya how real gaming is done.” She pulled his arm into the colorfully lit room lined with rows of machines, all chiming with different melodies.

Stepping into the electronic wonderland brought a wave of nostalgia over her. Oh how she had dominated so many of these games, setting high scores that many boys tried enviously to beat. How many prizes she had won from here…the rows and rows of tickets that flowed from the machines until they ran dry. Where she had first encountered Abraham Calhoun and went toe-to-toe against the big man with a wounded knee. After finding a worthy adversary in the diminutive girl and her friends, they had formed their gaming guild. This arcade, it was her church.

Plenty of things had changed, new franchises had introduced their own games but there were still plenty of classics here, some of which still retained her high score on the board. She walked up to the Ultimate Street Fighter console, running her fingers along the controls in sweet reverence. It felt like a holy relic. The electric hum from the machine sent a thrill through her skin and into her muscles, making her fingers twitch.

“So, that your score up there?” he asked, coming up behind her.

She beamed with pride and flashed him a smile. “Surprised?”

“I’m only surprised it’s lasted as long as it has…you said you haven’t been here in years.”

“High scores take years to beat.” She smirked. Her hand playfully teased the joystick, a hunger building within. That old longing she buried away was rising to the surface, taking breath in its shriveled lungs.

“Want to show me how it’s done?”

Her inner Pride swelled. ‘Do I?’ it chortled with glee, cracking its knuckles.

“Well, let’s see what this wounded bird can do…” she mused, slipping a bill into the machine. “I might need to have a practice round first.” She selected her main pick: Chun Li and found herself against Blanka in the first round. “Ok sparky… let’s play…”

Jostling the joystick with her left hand was no problem at all, but after the first few taps of the A and B buttons had her wincing as the ring and picky accidentally brushed the surface on the console pad. She had to adjust how her hand came down, but no matter how she angled it, she still sent jolts of pain through those fingers. Her match ended in a close victory, but it was apparent that she was not up to the task. Scrunching her face in defeat when Round 2 started, she was taken by surprise when Charlie brushed her hand aside and pressed the A and B for her to attack.

“Just tell me what to press.” He said, watching the screen for her opponent’s attack.

“Are you kidding? B!” she shouted as Blanka advanced. Charlie hit B without delay. “X! YY! A!” she called out in rapid succession to which he followed. The shouting of moves started to turn heads from nearby game players, some of them stopping their game to see what was going on. “A-A-B!” she called out.

A considerable crowd started to gather, a few pulling out their cellphones to record what they were seeing, moving around each other to get a better view. Not like they’d never seen a woman dominate a video game, but seeing someone with a bandaged arm unable to use it, calling out moves for another to press for them, and kicking the ass of their opponent? Now that was something different.

With Charlie’s assistance, she claimed a victory and advanced to their next opponent. She told him what the A and B buttons meant and the combo for the Spinning Bird kick aka Helicopter kick Chun Li was famous for. She barely noticed the crowd of onlookers, eyes fixated on the screen, calling out the moves and maneuvering the joystick as Charlie slammed the buttons in rapid succession, getting a feel for the character as they progressed.

The further along they went in rounds, the less she had to call out the buttons, as he caught on to her usual stream of moves. Although the character of Dhalsim threw him for a shock at first. “He stretches?” he cried out loud as he still hit the button she requested.

“Dude, everyone knows that.” Some kid answered sarcastically.

“I’ve never played this before.” Charlie retorted for the sake of clarity.

“Dude, what?” another kid exclaimed in utter disbelief. A murmur spread throughout the onlookers as they cheered every time Chun Li made a hit, every time their match ended in victory. Faced with Bison as the final boss, Charlie’s fingers were a blur of movement as she rattled off combos and toggled the joystick like crazy, just a little bead of sweat dotting her brow as she was nearing her limit. She landed blow after blow, took hit after hit, their final round coming down to the wire as she finished him off with a low ankle kick.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, seeing her place second to her original high score. “I’ve still got it.” She winked at Charlie.

“Dude, that’s your score?” a kid asked in an awestruck voice.

She nodded, breathing a little heavy. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The look on the teen’s face was priceless, as well as the onlookers who had stopped to gawk. It was then that she noticed a few phones were out. “And that kids, is how it’s done.” She stated with an adorable cute Chun Li pose before walking away from the crowd, Charlie sliding in behind her as they made their exit. He linked his hand in with hers, beaming with pride at his little gamer girl.

“We make a pretty good team.” She mused.

“That we do. I guess you could say I’m your Right-Hand Man.”

A snort escaped her nostrils as she burst into laughter. “Oh my gosh, how long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“What makes you think I’ve been waiting to use that? Aren’t I clever enough to have it come to me spontaneously?”

She stopped and turned to him. Her arched eyebrow told him everything she thought. But she dismissed it a moment later, again taking his hand and strolling along the walkway. They continued on, passing boutiques and department stores, chatting away about anything and everything. After a while they took a break in the food court and decided on a place to eat from. Charlie insisted on getting the meal, having Samara sit while he placed their order, paid for it and brought it to her on the tray.

“Reminds me of the cafeteria today.” She laughed.

“Except Umed isn’t here to pull me aside and take it upon himself to inform me all about Ruminate, Marshall and the review.” He replied. “I informed him that I was well aware of it all…oh…I might have let it slip that we are together but he just zipped his lip and said nothing further.”

She unwrapped her chicken sandwich. “Umed’s bout as trustworthy as they come. He’s one of the founding employees, practically there since Day One. He’s like an uncle; he’s seen me grow up.”

“He mentioned that.” Charlie stated, dipping his fries into a puddle of ketchup. “It was like he knew before I even did…he warned me to be careful, not just for your sake, but my own.”

She chewed for a few moments, contemplating. “Are we too obvious?”

“I don’t think so…as long as we behave like co-workers and not let ourselves get carried away…”

“Oh that definitely applies to you, you little pervert.”

He smirked, taking a bite of the bundle of fries. “You’re no angel either my dear.”

She washed her sandwich down and idly swirled her fries in the ketchup too. “You and Link have both said almost the same thing, about how I take being helped as being coddled… You guys might have a point.”

“Oh? You think?”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, yes. You were right. Happy now?”

“Happy that you’ve admitted it, but not happy about it taking you being injured to finally realize. And it got me body slammed into a refrigerator as well.”

“I know.” She lamented bitterly.

“I’m not asking for another apology, you didn’t sic your brother on me. He did that all on his own. I’ll have to choose my words carefully around him.”

She reached her hand across the small table and took hold of his. “Don’t take it personally, but he’s probably gonna hate you forever just because.”

He shrugged. “That’s nothing new. As long as you, your mother, and Dr. Hadar appreciate me for whom I am, then I can deal with the prejudice from an overprotective brother.”

“I wish you didn’t have to.” She murmured into the straw of her drink as she took a sip. “I want us to be like this…everywhere we go.”

He squeezed her hand. “What do you think your father would do if I told him about us?”

She gasped, almost choking on her tea. “Are you nuts? And I’m the one with the apparent Death Wish!”

“I never said-oh wait…I did, didn’t I?” he caught himself mid-denial.

“You and Link. Goddamnit…what have I been doing lately?” she sighed, scratching her forehead with her right hand, then reached for her drink again. “I haven’t been myself since…” the thought trailed off, the answer unclear at first but then presented itself.

“Since…?” he echoed, prompting her to continue.

She set her tea down. “Since you Charles.” She answered in a soft voice. She watched his face as his eyes widened and his lips part although nothing was said in return. “Since you walked into my office; a stranger who seemed familiar to me somehow, who awakened something inside myself that I had thought long dead and buried. A man whose every move seemed to catch my attention despite every attempt to look away…And who challenged me to step out of the box I’d shut myself in….It’s like…I needed you…to rediscover who I was…”

Her hand was trembling by the time she finished, or was that his hand? She couldn’t tell. The voices of everyone around blended into a cacophony of white noise. They weren’t in a mall food court anymore, but transported to a secluded space within time itself, neither here nor there, but in between and nowhere.

He brought her hand up to his lips, cradling it with both hands. “I love you too.”
………………………….

Since their moment in the food court, they walked in silence. He carried the bag from the bookstore, and she her purse as they held hands and aimlessly wandered, not even remotely taking in direction anymore. All the stores became a blur, just clothing racks and gadgets on display and music blending into a nothingness that didn’t matter as they followed their feet, wherever they led to.

Eventually, Samara’s phone rang, her mother on the other end. The hours had passed by in a handful of minutes. They’d reached the main doors, finding the car waiting nearby, Bowser happily yapping in the front passenger seat. He escorted her to the vehicle, opened her door and closed it after she was seated before jogging around to the other side and entering.

“I trust you two had a fun time?” she inquired, pulling away from the curb and traversing through the parking lot and into the main flow of traffic once again. A glance in the rear view at the pair of lovebirds gazing at each other was more than ample an answer than the weakly delivered ‘yes’ they responded with. She smiled to herself and continued the drive all the way to the penthouse with barely a word passed from either of them.

When they arrived, she passed Bowser from the front seat to the back, his painted red claws the first thing they noticed. “Oh my god, Mom! What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do a thing dear.” She chuckled.

Around his neck, Bowser had a red ribbon bow. He smelled freshly clean, and there was something Charlie couldn’t quite put his finger on, but there was a change he was immediately picking up on, distracted by the red toe nails.

“The girls gave him the royal treatment. And a bag of bones they wanted to feed him, but I told them about his diet so they just gave us a ‘doggy bag’ to take.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” Charlie started to say.

Mrs. Young waved his words dismissively. “Think nothing of it. He enjoyed every minute of it; I even have video I can send to you.”

Bowser licked at Charlie’s chin as if to agree with her statement. He noticed how clean Bowser’s breath was, and the whiter gleam his incisors shined. He sure did get the royal treatment! Curiously, he glanced at their surroundings. “I thought you’d be taking me back to my flat.”

“Oh? You don’t want to stay the night? Perhaps I misread the pheromones in the air?” she joked at their expense. “I’ll be back tomorrow, just make sure you’re covered by the time I arrive.” She added as one final jab to their fragile composure.

Charlie opened the door for Sam and escorted her into the lobby, Bowser strutting his painted paws for all to see as they led him with the leash. They entered the elevator, fingers entwined as they rode the lift to the top floor. Entering the penthouse together, like a family, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Bowser happily bounced along the wooden floor into the living room and then sniffed around in the kitchen.

“I’ll set a bowl of water for him.” She offered, setting her purse down and making her way after the little canine. He watched her walk away, her jeans skin tight and snug like a layer of paint. A beautiful view. He inhaled and shook his mind of that train of thought as he turned to the living room and opened up her laptop sitting on the little tray table by the lounge chair and took the seat. When she entered he patted his lap as an invitation of where to sit.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked as she slid into his lap, bringing the computer closer to type in her password.

“I thought we could watch the review on Ruminate.” He replied, snaking an arm around her waist. “Now that we have the time to do so, and we can relax after the long day.”

“You really want to watch that right now?”

“Of course I do. You snuggled up against me? What more could a man want?” he teased as she brought up the video. She nestled against his chest laying on her left side, right arm carefully resting upon his chest. He reached over and pushed play. They glossed over the intro and went straight to the start up.

“Oh, he chose the letter opener.” She mused. “I wonder if he figures out its secret…”

“Now I wish I had recorded my play through.”

“You more than vividly described your route well enough; after all, I am its creator. I know how it looked.”

“Yes, but we won’t get to be able to sit like this and both watch it, share it with others.”

She tightened her arm around his torso. “I rather like how your review went. How often does a creator sit with an adoring fan over a fine dinner with a glass of white wine, hearing how much their game was a wonder to behold?”

“I suppose you have a point there…” he chuckled, watching Marshall’s character run away from the werewolves and encounter the captain of the guard.

They laughed as Marshall’s narration included anecdotes and the thought process he went through in figuring out how to overcome his next obstacle, as well as the blunders he stumbled through before making the proper choice. She smiled with pure joy as he gave the troll a job, helped the witch, who in turn offered her service to help those affected with lycanthropy. He purchased a lute and joined the knight in the rescue of a handsome prince held captive by the dragon.

“I couldn’t help but notice…how some of these characters resemble some of your friends…”

“Oh? You noticed?” she giggled. “The knight is Angela. Our school mascot in elementary school was a knight, and she stood up to the bullies for me…in a way, I guess you could say she is my white knight.”

“And Lincoln is a prince?”

“Oh come on, don’t be jealous… I never you told you how we met, did I?”

He shook his head. “You have not.” He stroked her hair as she regaled the tale of his father’s cancer diagnosis and being in the room next to hers. Theirs was a friendship bonded in tragedy, her being there for him in the darkest period of his life. He began to understand how the two would be drawn together later when she was faced with her own. In a way, his disdain for the man subsided significantly.

“The troll is his little brother Dallas; he’s a little shit if you ask me. Our guild master Abe tried being a positive male role model for him, but he just couldn’t stop getting himself in trouble. And he crossed the line when we found out he was cyber-stalking Angela.”

He released a sympathetic hiss. “Ah, I’m beginning to understand him now. Strange, empathizing with someone I considered my rival.”

“I never realized how many guys I had vying for my attention.” She let out a giggle. “Wow, I feel like anime girl in a reverse harem.”

“But you’re a one-man woman now.” He nuzzled against the crown of her head. “Mine.”

Honestly, she loved hearing him say that. She knew he was hers and hers alone.

They continued watching as Marshall’s character dug the grave for the ghost in the woods, finally putting her to rest. The final scene was one last kiss, a gift from the deceased princess to the man that freed her spirit. A tear formed in her eye, that scene feeling completely different now. She tried to silently hold it back, but just that little squeak of a sob escaped her. Charlie’s arm tightened around her as they watched the credits, friends such as Jasmine and Leanne mentioned for their contribution, the dedication still made to Benjamin Lawson.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You loved him, and he loved you too.”

The sob choked out as she fought to hold it back. He rubbed her arm.

“Samara, don’t feel guilty for the things you felt in that time of your life. I wasn’t even in the country yet, I wouldn’t have even been remotely close to being in college either. If we had met back then, I would’ve just been a passerby in your day to day. If you and he had perhaps taken more time to get to know each other, you would’ve either seen that you were not as compatible as you thought, or you would’ve grown more and perhaps have remained together up to this day. Things have a way of happening.”

She wiped at one eye, tears streaming from the other onto his shirt. There hadn’t been a day gone by where she had laid in bed with those very same thoughts swirling in her head, ruminating over the what ifs and how comes and whys until she came to the conclusion that the dominoes fell the way they did for a reason. Everyone was due their one major mistake to either repeat for the rest of their life or pick themselves up and become stronger from it.

“Are you alright love?” he asked after a moment of muted sobs.

She sat up, rubbing the knuckle in her eye. “Would you believe me if I said mostly?”

“I would.” He answered, watching her intently. “I’m sorry this upset you.”

She shook her head. “It was going to happen. I’m just glad you were with me.”

“Of course darling.” He noticed the slump in her shoulders and the exhaustion in her eyes. “Shall we retire for the evening? For actual sleep?” he added as a joke, getting her to smile despite herself.

“Yeah, I think I could go for that.” She slid off his lap and stretched as he put the computer to sleep. She turned as saw Bowser already curled up on her couch, snoring happy doggy dreams. “I guess he’s fine.”

“He sleeps wherever. He’s not good with stairs though. We might hear him calling for us later on.” Charlie stated as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her chest. He nuzzled the soft flesh of her neck, trailing across her shoulders with little kisses. “God, you’ve looked incredibly tempting all evening. I’ve wanted to sink my teeth into you and let everyone know you’ve been claimed.”

She rolled her head to the side as he nipped her skin, careful not to leave another noticeable hickey. “Maybe it’s you that needs a mark.”

He turned her around to face him. “Anywhere you want.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that when I get my branding rod.” She teased, pressing a finger against his chest, right above his heart. He took her hand and nipped her pointer finger.

“I was unaware you were that kinky.” He smirked, calling her bluff with an unspoken challenge. He leaned down and met her lips with his own, a gentle kiss that held such warmth, he felt he could drown in her hold and not even once look to the surface for air, happy being pulled to the depths by the siren in his arms.

“Says the man who bound me with a necktie and then went all primal on me in the office?” she laughed. “If anyone here is the kinky one, it’s you. Looks like I’ve released the beast within.”

“So, you are the Beauty to my Beast?” he purred, his hand trailing down the curve of her buttocks, snug in those beautiful stretch jeans. “I rather like the sound of that.” He held her butt firmly as he lifted her off the floor.

“Am I ever going to be able to walk in my own house when you’re here?”

“Why walk when I can carry you?” he replied, taking the stairs with a steady pace, with her wrapped around his neck. “At least this time, you’re not drunk.”

“Ha! At least this time you’re not ripping my clothes off in a frenzy.”

He chuckled in his throat. “I can behave.” He stated for the record.

He finished the first flight of stairs with no problem, the readjusted his hold on her to take on the second flight. It was enough of a little micro-workout to keep in his routine. Her petite frame and slim build made her easy to pick up and carry around; it was carrying her on the stairs that was the real test of strength and balance. Like every time before, he passed perfectly.

Upon reaching the bedroom she slid down from his grasp and set her feet on the floor. Try as she might, she couldn’t deny that it was an endearing little trait of his that she was beginning to adore. “I believe that’s the third time you’ve carried me up any set of stairs.”

He poked the tip of her nose. “Someone’s keeping track.” He praised before reaching his arms up and pulling the shirt off his back and over his head in one fell swoop, sending a rush of goose bumps down her arms. The sight of his gleaming pale chest with the faint bruises warmed her blood, forcing her to turn her head away and remove her glasses.
“D-do you want something of mine to sleep in?” she wavered as she made her way into her closet. She jumped when she felt him behind her, his hands on her waist, fingers tickling her skin as he lifted the hem of her shirt up and over her head. “Wh-hat are you doing?”

“Helping you undress my dear.” He answered smoothly. “After all, hasn’t your mum been assisting you with this all week?”

She nodded, unsure why she was feeling nervous all of a sudden. It’s not like he hadn’t seen her naked before, hadn’t kissed or bit nearly every inch of her neck and chest, hadn’t ran his tongue along-

“Samara?”

“Oh right! Yes.” She instantly called out, snapping back to attention. She turned around so he could unsnap and peel down the pair of jeans, securing her as she stepped out of them one leg at a time. Funny how not being able to use one hand properly suddenly threw one’s entire body off-kilter.

“Alright good…now if I recall…” his voice trailed off in a singsong manner as he opened drawers in her dresser to locate the pajamas. “Ah ha, here we are!” he declared triumphantly when he presented her with a sleeveless ¾ length nightgown. She turned around so he could unhook her bra before he bunched it up and slipped it over her head and her right arm before she took over. It felt so strange, this redressing when all he’d ever done was seduce the clothing right off her. Her body was responding in all the wrong ways to this, she wanted everything off and to stay off.

“There you are love, like I promised.”

“Thank you. I have to say…that was a first for me too.” She reached up and pulled the hair tie securing her braid and shook it loose. “Maybe I should just fire my mom and hire you instead.”

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her a bit. “How is your hand?” he picked up the right arm and inspected the knuckles. “I noticed it caused you pain in the arcade.”

“It did. As long as they don’t bump into anything they’re fine. I’d rather not have to resort to an opioid if I can avoid it.”

“A capital idea my dear.” He agreed with a kiss to her temple. He swooped his arm under her knees and easily scooped her into the bridal carrying pose and exited the closet. Laid upon her back she smiled at his playful chivalrous manner, wondering if she would ever tire of these little games.

“One of these days, I’m going to carry you to bed.” She declared, pointing at him as he reached for the side lamp.

“Is that so? My little Bunty thinking she can take on the world and then some?” he clicked his tongue as the light went out, the room still illuminated by the starlight sky and distant city lights. “You did well enough getting me onto the sofa in my office. I think that should count.”

“I don’t even know how much of that was you reeling from the medication or faking it.” She pouted. He snickered as he made his way to the other side of the bed and slipped under the covers after shucking off his pants.

“Maybe I should let that be my little secret.” He teased with a whisper as he brushed his lips across her cheek. “Or is that a deal breaker?”

She rolled over and curled up into him. “I don’t want to fight like we did this morning.” She nuzzled against his chest, breathing in his scent. A scent she hoped would remain strong in her mind until her dying day as an old woman. Whatever it was, she couldn’t quite name, but it was just purely him.

“I don’t either. I never expected that I could speak so angrily, to feel so possessed by anger. That isn’t me.”

She took his hand and kissed his knuckle. “I know. And it was my fault you felt that way. I wasn’t honest with you because I just didn’t want to be reminded of yet another paramour. And I didn’t want your opinion of me to change.”

“My opinion?” he exclaimed. “My opinion has not changed at all. I’m not going to fault you for choices you made before I came into your life. What right do I have to say on that?”

“Either way, you still don’t like it.”

He exhaled with exasperation. “The only thing I don’t like; is the interactions I’ve had with the past men in your life. How each one has been almost like a mini boss to fight. Your brother and father being the main bosses, though I’m not sure which one I should consider the bigger threat. Sure, your father can fire me, but your brother wants to literally kill me.”

“You don’t seem nearly as worried about losing your job as one normally would.” She remarked.

“A job is a job. And true, we would not have met had I not been hired on, but as I told you that one night; I would gladly resign if that’s what it took. As long as you remained with me, it wouldn’t matter what my occupation was.”

“Is that because you know I’m already financially well off, so you know you don’t have to take care of me?”

He made a disgusted snark. “Like I chose you for your financial standing.” He shifted onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “It doesn’t matter to me if you’re the next CEO or just another intern, I found you. I believe I was always meant to find you. That, I have no doubts. I was destined to hear your voice and share the love only you could give. I’d like to believe that it was impossible for me to go through this life without feeling you.”

A bolt of lightning struck her ribcage, shocking her heart to ever beating life with a fervor it had never known. The very last of the ice crystals clinging on in the corners of the dungeon cell had shattered, clattering to the cobblestone floor like glass. The walls themselves gave way, crumbling in a grinding mash of weak mortar and old stone. The prisoner had already been freed, the golden band once securing her within had given way like cheap lead, and now the cage that had been its home all these years was destroyed.

Demolished like the house of hay from the huff of a big bad wolf.

He cupped her chin when he saw her eyes dart off to the side. “There I go again, putting my heart on a platter for you do to with as you see fit.” He lightly chuckled, bringing her closer.

“Wait.” She said suddenly, a hand on his chest, their lips just inches apart. “I-I…there’s something…” she stuttered, pulling away from him and rolling over to turn her lamp on. Curious, he remained propped on his elbow as she yanked open the nightstand drawer and fished around until her fingers scraped against the bottom, the unmistakable sound of a metal chain dragging along the wooden interior until it crinkled in her palm. She held it to her chest a moment, a steady breath escaping her lips before she turned back around.

He sat up, knowing what she held, but knowing she was unaware of his snooping and discovery of its existence. Worried that confessing to that would only bring her more pain, he remained passive. It was no secret now as to the relationship she once had with Benjamin. He could see her shaking with trepidation in preparation for what she was about to do.

She held out a wavering palm, the fingers uncurling slowly to reveal the once treasured item. Her eyes never looked bigger as she bit her lip and tilted her hand, letting the chain and the ring fall into his awaiting hand.

“I-I couldn’t…it was all I had…” she tripped over her tongue, trying to formulate a coherent sentence. “It was like a knife…I’d hold it for comfort…only to be cut again, feeling like I deserved it. I wanted to get rid of it…so many times…every time I look at it…I just couldn’t.” she shook her head.

He wrapped his fingers over the golden band and its silver companion. A ball and chain that had bound her soul in place, kept her from moving on. She was now finally freeing herself of it.

“I can’t do it.” Her hitched breath rasped into the silent room. “But I need it gone.”

“Once I do this, it can’t be undone.” He warned. “You can never ask me what it is I’ve done with it, where it ends up, or to retrieve it.”

She nodded fiercely with each point of his statement.

He tossed it carelessly behind him to fall on the discarded pants lying on the floor and pulled her towards him, her arms already open to embrace as if she had expected it of him. She enveloped herself within his hold as his lips trailed along her throat, her shoulders, back up and to her lips. She found herself clawing at her nightgown, desperate to be rid of the silky barrier of cloth. His hands found purchase and shifted it up, sliding it up and over her head, tossing it to the floor as well. Fuck it all, let the clothes spend the night on the hard surface, all that mattered was the contact of skin to skin.

“You’re my second chance Charles.” She whispered against his mouth as she climbed on top of him.

……………………………………

Chapter Text

FRIDAY AFTERNOON:

“Marshall, your phone is going off again.” Monica stated, wincing with the headache all the insistent pinging it had given her. She picked it up and rolled her eyes as she pressed the volume button to mute it.

“It’s probably more Indigineer hits.” He shrugged, eyes fixed on the computer as he put the final touches on his latest recorded game, syncing the narration to overlay a pivotal point in the game. It was an older game that he had played on a whim and never got around to finishing, unpopular with a small faithful following but one could never be sure these days with the resurgence of nostalgia making its way as the new mainstream trend.

“No actually, this is hitting off both Instagram and Twitter. There’s even a few from Viewtube.” She replied, with just the casual glance at the notifications darting across the screen.

“Curious.” He remarked. Normally it took a few days for things to carry over from Indigineer to other social sites. It was still a fledgling site in comparison to the main social media pages. He saved his work and closed the program, only to follow through with opening a new tab for Viewtube, Instagram, and Twitter.

Posts about a one-armed girl dominating an arcade game were including hashtags with his name, telling him he had a new rival in the video gaming world. Naturally, he imagined someone who was either born with an underdeveloped arm or one that had been amputated, until it was clarified that she had her arm in a brace and was unable to use it, so her boyfriend was pressing the attack buttons as she called them out.

“Impressive. Babe come here.” He called to her as she had wandered into the kitchen for a can of soda to chase with her Tylenol. He clicked open the link for the video to play. “Holy shit.”

Not liking the heavy tone of that last sentence, she sprinted over to his side and stood in awe as a familiar face graced the screen. She nearly dropped the slick, cold can of cola in shock. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

There stood Sam in a shoulder bearing lavender blouse, the brace securing her right hand and wrist, her ring and pinky fingers bound and useless for gaming. She muscled the joystick with precision as she called out attack button combos that Charlie kept up with. His surprise at the character of Dhalsim made Marshall snort with a chuckle, but nonetheless he still kept up her calling the moves.

Even though this particular camera holder had not aimed his phone at the screen, he could tell she playing Chun Li just by the telltale sounds from the character. He remembered her telling him that when she started playing games, there were few female characters to choose, and she at least felt relatable to the bouncy brunette fighter more than Cammy. She had dominated his ass as they sat crossed legged on the floor in her dorm, with him declaring he only lost because he had a shifty controller. In all honesty, he’d been blown away by her skill and couldn’t keep his head in the game. It was then that he snuck in a kiss to her cheek, overwhelmed by her prowess.

“I’ve never played this before.” Charlie admitted; eyes still focused on the console screen as he rapidly tapped the buttons.

“He’s kidding, right?” Monica asked, holding the can up to her lips but unable to tilt her head back any further from the impressive display.

Marshall crossed his arms and just shook his head, a little whistle escaping his lips. He might’ve bonded with Sam over their love for gaming, but here was real teamwork. And this was completely unscripted. The crowd cheered in unison as she landed blows on her enemies and the uproar from her defeat of Bison even had the kid recording the scene jumping for joy, shaking the view for a few seconds.

“And that kids, is how it’s done.” She declared with a signature Chun Li pose. The video ended a few seconds later with her walking away, Charlie right behind.

There were other recordings from other points of view, varying in length by only a few seconds. Marshall wasn’t the only gamer being tagged, but he had the advantage over them by knowing who the “mystery chick and her boyfriend” were. His fingers tapped in anxious thought by his keyboard as he contemplated his next move.

“I’m gonna do it.” He said, typing away at the top comment including his tagged name.

“Do what?” his pink-haired companion inquired, finally taking that sip of caffeine liquid.

“This.” He replied, typing in his response to the question.

#MarshallLaw: Hey guys, I’d like you to meet Sam Young, inventor of Ruminate. She’s an old college friend of mine. Looks like she’s got it ;)

“Do you think you should be doing that?”

“Someone’s gonna figure it out sooner or later. Might as well do my part, at least set the record straight before crazed fans want to start shipping us together and blowing things out of proportion.” He turned to her; she understood all too well the power of words when it came to their fans. A simple suggestion or hashtag could go viral-in the wrong way.
……………………………

SATURDAY MORNING:

Tangled in sheets and limbs, Samara made the first stirs and yawns, pushing an arm that was draped over her chest aside so she could sit up and pop her neck. After twisting to the left, then the right she felt the satisfying crack up her spine as vertebrae slipped back into place.

“That sounded painful, yet satisfying.” A muffled welsh accent mumbled from the depths of pillows and bunched up sheets.

“Another astute observation Mr. Jones.”

His blond mop flopped upwards as he jerked his head from its resting place. “Why do you call me that?”

She giggled at the sight of his beautifully tossed bedhead locks, running her fingers through it to behold his equally beautiful eyes. “Because I don’t have a cute nickname for you yet. Does it really bother you?”

He rolled onto his side and tossed his hair back once more. “It’s just that, that what everyone calls my grandfather…and I’ve always just been Charlie.”

“What about your middle name? I don’t even know how to say it.”

He bared her a toothy grin. “Go on, try it…” he cajoled. “It won’t offend me.”

She grimaced. Sure, she knew French was deceiving with its excessive use of vowels, and it would appear the Welsh went in the opposite direction and went overboard with consonants. Nothing was pronounced how it appeared to be. She remembered glancing over it in his application and background check, but honestly, it was just something she skimmed over as his credentials was what she was paying attention to.

How to say Rhysand?

Was it Rice-san?    Ree-sand?    Ri-san?

She took a breath. “Ree-sand?”

He sat up. “Well look at you, right on the first go. I’d say that deserves a reward.” He purred with a nuzzle to her neck. “Beautiful and brilliant.”

She curled her shoulder up and scrunched her neck inward as much as she could as his loose tendrils tickled her sensitive skin. She let out a little squeal once his tongue flicked at the dip in her throat. “Oh stop it!” she begged, pushing him off. “You insatiable flirt.”

“Only with you.” He added with a devilish wink.

“So what does that mean?” she cocked her head to the side, puppy-like and adorable. There was no denying that face. That look should be illegal.

“You’re going to laugh.” He stated plainly.

“I promise I won’t” she proclaimed, holding a hand up.

“Yes. You will. But it’s fine.” He then flopped back against the pillows with a sigh. “Rhysand means ‘Perfection’. Go ahead…” he flicked his wrist as if to give her permission.

Despite everything within her, her face scrunched with the grunty snort building in her throat, her hand at her mouth to block the urge, it eventually was all for naught, the dam gave way and the laughter burst through. He watched as her composure broke and she put the names together in her mind, just reveling in his mother’s cleverness.

He waited patiently until she regained herself. She wiped her eyes and coughed to clear her throat, face merrily flushed. “Ok, I laughed.” She confessed.

He folded his arms behind his head. “Yes you did. But I knew you would. Although I don’t mind it coming from you.”

“Your mom has a sense of humor.” She stated, easing down to snuggle in next to him. He removed one hand from behind his head and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I think I’d like her.”

Hearing that made his chest swell. “I know for a fact that she would adore you. You’d be the kind of student she’d love to have in her class, not to mention the being woman who stole her son’s heart, so naturally that would be a plus.”

“Stole nothing, you practically threw it at me.” She scoffed, pulling the sheet around herself.

“You still caught it.” His other hand came out from under his head and trailed along her chest, gently pinching at the sheet she was shielding herself with. “This is my favorite time of day, out of every moment; this is where I choose to be.”

“Is it because I’m already naked?” she chortled.

“Well, that plays a part…but actually, seeing you as you are, not even your glasses, no suit, no expectations or responsibilities set upon you yet. In this moment, you are freely you.”

“Being freely me…I never thought of it that way. I suppose you have a point.” She turned her head and looked at his face.

“What?”

She smiled. “I just want to look at you.” She watched that pale face flush pink. It was like a magic trick. It still never failed to entertain her despite however many times he done it by now. She never knew that men could blush in such a vibrant fashion; nor had met one who had done it so frequently. He was beautiful, and he was all hers.

“I’d say, why don’t you just take a picture, if you like what you see…but I believe your phone is still in your purse downstairs.” He smirked. “Then again, I should go check on Bowser.”

‘If you must’ she lamented, wanting to stay in his arms longer. “You can take him out on the rooftop so he can do his business.” She suggested as she sat up so he could retrieve his arm and began reaching for his discarded clothing. She still appreciated the view though. Shirtless, he strode past the bed and took to the stairs and called to Bowser as his voice echoed in the stairwell.

Bowser eagerly awaited Charlie at the base of the first floor steps, his chubby body writhing in joy at seeing his daddy finally approach. He’d awakened in a new place and sniffed everything he could reach, found his water bowl, and tried valiantly to climb the stairs but his manicured nails had no purchased to the slick surface and therefore made it impossible to breach.

Charlie plucked the leash off the side table by the door and hooked it onto his collar, which he noticed was also new, red with little studded spikes. His tags had been removed from the old collar and resecured to the new so it had slipped his immediate attention at first. All but dying his fur hot pink he probably wouldn’t have noticed much with how distracted he’d been with Samara. Ever since her revelation of her feelings and his unplanned use of the L word, he’d been held in thrall of what was to come, swimming in a pheromone perfumed haze with her as the lighthouse guiding him.

He slid the glass door aside and Bowser immediately darted out, excited to explore even more new territory as he was walked around. He let him sniff and investigate the patio furniture but lured him away towards a corner of the rooftop to conduct his business. When he set his hand in his pocket, he felt the ring and chain which he had tossed upon them the night before. As he had gathered them up to step into, he’d just quickly shoved the jewelry into a pocket and made haste.

Now, he had a moment to take in the severity of the item in his grasp. He pulled it out and set it on the ledge of the protective wall, watching the sunlight glint brightly off its metallic surface. Symbolic, this significant item, what it meant then and what it meant now, and what it meant for her to trust him with it. Its burden upon her was too great for her to shed off alone and she had come to the one person whom she trusted most to help her be free of it.

Deep down, he knew she didn’t have to say she loved him, not in the basic way that most proclaimed their feelings. Not like his simple expression in the food court. He shook his head, chiding himself for that clumsy response. That was not how he intended to say it, not for the first time (in English, anyway). He inhaled a frustrated breath and turned his head back to glimpse the beautiful penthouse behind him.

The glass tower in which lived a lonely, lost princess.

But lonely no more.

He turned back around, grasped the metal bundle and reared back, shucking it off into the morning light, watching as it gleamed like a tiny meteorite into the distance until it was lost to them both. It was banished from her life forever, no longer left to sit as a bitter reminder and withhold her from moving forward. He no longer had to worry if the ring would be a temptation or a nightmare. It was gone.

Having killed two birds with one stone, he led Bowser back into the living room and unhooked the leash. Bowser dashed along the hallway, skittering as his little claws tried to gain traction. Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at the antic, then picked him up and carried him up the first flight of stairs after he grabbed her purse from the hook on the wall. He set the little fella down to explore the second floor, watching him dart around with vigor.

“Samara, I’m bringing Bowser up.” He called to her, tapping his thigh as a signal to Bowser to come. Obedient to a fault, he came running and leaped into Charlie’s open arm and wiggled happily as he was carried up yet another flight of stairs. At the last step, he set bowser down and watched him scurry. “I brought up your purse too.” He announced as Bowser made a daring leap and landed on the bed, bounding straight for Samara with a jingle of his tags.

She laughed as he flicked his tongue across her face and kicked his legs as she held him up. It was a lovely scene, this tender playful moment of seeing the two things he loved most in this country together. His heart swelled with abundance. If only every morning could be like this.

He placed a knee on the corner of the bed and leaned over a ways to scratch bowser on his rump in a surprise attack. Bowser immediately turned to face the threat and charged at Charlie’s hand, darting around on the bed with Samara and Charlie tag teaming him every time his back was to either. It was quite the game full of growls and giggles for a few minutes until poor Bowser had his reached his limit and flopped to his side, huffing his fuzzy cheeks in exhausted snorts.

Samara chuckled, petting his side as he worked his little breaths into a steady rhythm. “I know how you feel buddy. Your daddy wears me out too.” She winked at Charlie with a coquettish smile to pair with it, watching as his eyebrows hitched with sly intent.

He tossed her little purse into her lap, causing the wrapped sheet around her to slip and reveal her breasts. Perfect. She fumbled with the sheet, getting it tucked back into her armpits before opening the clutch and removed her phone, flicking her finger across the screen.

“Good grief, I’ve exploded.” She uttered, perking Charlie’s interest. He came around to his side of the bed and retrieved his device, set on silent, resting on her nightstand. He awakened his phone but leaned over to see her screen as she strolled through dozens of notifications. Nothing perked on his cell except a greeting from his mother.

Her curiosity led her to click on a link which revealed the most tagged video regarding her. To their utter surprise, their tag team adventure in the arcade had gone viral thanks to the kids who recorded them and tagged Marshall Law among other top notch gamers. It was Marshall’s response though that garnered the most hits.

“Oh my god, he didn’t…” she replied breathlessly, bringing a hand to her mouth.

Charlie read it out loud. “Hey guys, I’d like you to meet Sam Young, inventor of Ruminate. She’s an old college friend of mine. Looks like she’s got it…Hmmm, well at least he’s being somewhat honest about that.” He glanced at her. She was in shock to say the least.

“Darling?”

“I’m fine…I’m fine…” she whispered, eyes glued to the screen, seeing the hits, the kudos, the hearts, the thumbs up, the praise. Tears pooled in her eyes. It was everything she had hoped for with the launch of Ruminate. Better late than never.

He gently pushed her hand down, causing her to peel her eyes away from the phone for a moment. His thumb slid under her eye, wiping away the salty release. “I hope these are happy tears.”

She sniffed back the next wave that threatened to come. “They are. Well, mostly I mean.”

“Then I shall have to kiss away the ones that aren’t.” he responded, bringing her face closer to his as he leaned closer to her, the tip of his tongue dabbing at the stream of tears, letting the salt seep into his taste buds before pressing his lips together in a satisfying smack, following with delicate kisses to her cheeks and the tip of her nose, finally bringing a smile to her face.

“Delicious.” He said once he pulled away. “I bet they’d taste better with an actual breakfast, what do you say?”

“I think breakfast sounds wonderful.”

He teased her neck. “Will this be a clothing optional breakfast?”

She smacked him with her left hand. “Do you ever think of anything else?” she laughed. She began to shift the sheet so she could get up but was blocked by her unmoving boyfriend. “Uh, a little space if you don’t mind?”

“You look absolutely beautiful. May I take a picture of you?”

“Oh.” She murmured in surprise. No one had ever come out plainly and asked like that before. “Sure, I guess.” Before she could move, he stopped her.

“Just like this.” He said, holding his hand out to prevent her from moving. “I like how the light is. Don’t move.” He picked up his phone and opened the camera icon, holding it up to frame her just right.

She’d always been awkward about her photo being taken, every Picture Day in school was like a walk to the executioner, being the last in line, walking past all her classmates that had gone before, standing at the mark in front of the curtain or sitting if that’s how the setup was, grimacing a forced smile and blinded by the flash that followed. Even when lined up with fellow classmates in a group photo, she always felt so pressured and did her best to hide. Being small though, encouraged her teachers to place her in the front row more often than not, giving her nowhere to run.

That nervousness had ebbed but not completely fled. She tried looking as natural as possible, not forcing a smile, although seeing him so focused at the lens of his camera, his brows tented, his hair falling in his eyes did give her cause to tilt her lips up a bit. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, leaning her head and letting bangs fall into her face. He brought his hand up to gently tuck some of those hairs aside, letting his thumb trail across her lips. Those beautiful luscious lips he had yet to kiss this morning.

Was it possible for love to grow by the day?

He felt he loved her more today, right now, than he had a week ago, and the week before that… “Rydych chi'n eithriadol.” He breathed out in total awe of her.

“Oh more Welsh?” she laughed. “I haven’t even read a page in my book.”

“Would you like to know?”

“Actually….no. The look on your face is enough for me.” She replied.

He dropped his phone to the bed and cradled her face with both hands. Now he knew it was true. She threw her head back and gave in, surrendering to the embrace. Her braced hand rested gently on his shoulder as her body turned in to make contact with his. His body radiated heat, every part of her that she touched felt like it would burn if she held on too much longer, but fuck it, let her be marked with the fires of this heavenly body before her. Let the world see her scars only he could give her. Her body yearned for him unlike anything she’d ever known.

He had become her drug, and she was completely addicted.

How she ended up on her back, sheet pulled aside, she didn’t know nor did she care. It just happened. His bare chest was pressed against hers, his hair falling into her eyes, his hands braced on either side of her as they sank into the soft mattress.

Would it be too much to say it here? Right now? Is this the right moment?

When he pulled back for her to catch her breath, she stared into his beautiful eyes, feeling herself be pulled into a brilliant ocean. Just when she felt her voice crawl its way past the uvula and across her tongue, Bowser snuck across his belly to them and booped her with his nose, blowing wet air into her ear. She shrieked with the unexpected coldness and giggled as it only enticed him to do more; clamoring all over her with little kisses and whines.

“Bowser!” Charlie chided him, grabbing the attention hog and getting to his feet. “That’s MY girlfriend you’re trying to steal from me.”

She sat up, brought the sheet around herself once more and just smiled. “It’s alright; we were talking about breakfast anyways, weren’t we?”

“I take it that’s my cue to leave?” he asked with a playful raise of his eyebrow.

She nodded. “I’m too tempting for your resolve right now.” She giggled.

He flushed, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “I’ll be downstairs.” He replied, talking the pudgy pupper with him. She watched them depart with a pleased smile before flinging the sheet off and bounding her way to the bathroom and then off to her closet to find something she could slip on without assistance.
………………………….

Sitting at her dining table wearing just a pair of underwear and a regular tee shirt she watched as Charlie worked more magic in the kitchen. Even if she hadn’t had her arm in a brace Charlie insisted on making her a meal. So far, all she’d had of his cooking was that delicious soup and the “eggy bread” so she was curious just what he could do. Bowser had been given some broken up doggy bones as his breakfast and absolutely loved “being spoiled” in this new environment. Though he wasn’t fond of the stairs.

“You know…I was thinking…” she piped up, idly trailing her finger along the coffee mug in her hand, “That once you have your license…you could stay over some nights during the week, not just on the weekend.”

The clatter of utensils and mutter of a word she couldn’t identify had her pulling her lips together tightly as he fumbled but recovered quickly. She stifled the giggle that threatened to come out and just went back to her coffee. It wasn’t something she had ever suggested before but somehow it felt right to say. Bowser had come up and sat by her feet, begging in the most adorable fashion. This moment felt serene.

When he brought the plate before her she marveled at the beautiful meal and felt like a princess. “You spoil me.” She teased as she picked up her fork.

“Well, I suppose you could say I am, or I could just be showing off, or I could just be doing a good deed for someone incapable of doing it themselves. Your pick.” He replied as he took his seat right by her with his own. “But you’re welcome.”

“Maybe it’s all of the above?” she smirked, stuffing her mouth with a bite of sausage and scrambled eggs.

He flicked back that cumbersome weft of bangs away from his left eye and gave her a half lidded glance. Just watching her enjoy the food he prepared and bantering with him like they’d known each other their whole lives was an extraordinary sensation. “How is it?”

She just moaned a response, taking another bite.

“Ah, Mum would be so proud.” He remarked, leaning down to hand feed Bowser a little morsel. “That’s all you get.”

“I saw you got a text from your mom….are you going to tell her about me?” she asked once she had swallowed her mouthful. “Course, I wasn’t prying, I just glanced over when you had pulled up your phone. Not like I can read a string of consonants anyways…”

He chuckled at that last bit. “Actually, that’s what I intended to do today. Now that I have a such a glamorous picture of you to send her.”

“I was naked! Wrapped in a sheet!” she cried out, startling Bowser.

“No Bunty, you were fully covered. Here, I’ll show you.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the gallery. He handed the phone over to her, watching her eyes widen and a breathless whisper of a gasp escaped her lips.

“Oh my goodness…I’ve never…looked….and you took this?” her head jerked up. “Are you a professional photographer too?”

“Oh come on, it’s not that spectacular. I just caught some of that natural beauty of yours.”

It surprised him when she held the phone to her chest. “I’ve never felt as…pretty…as this picture has made me feel.”

He set his fork down, delicately, but yet it still clanged nonetheless against the glass top. His hand slide across the smooth surface to take hold of her right hand. “What do you mean? You. Are. Beautiful.”

She set his phone down. “It’s hard to feel beautiful when you’re in a hospital gown, with yet another bruised vein, with tape marks and little scars from countless IV’s and big square glasses because you can’t see five feet in front of you without them. When you’ve inherited your dad’s dark hair and eyes and you’re cast in the shadow of your golden idol of a mother and-”

Charlie abruptly pushed back his chair, startling her from her self-deprecating rant and took her face in his hands. He forced her to meet his eyes, that penetrating electric gaze. She stopped talking, her eyes bright and glossy. “Oh…I did it again…”

A heavy silence passed between them as he continued to hold her face and peer down, as her breaths started increasing in speed, short little pants to match her rabbit-like heart. “Say something…Why are you just staring?” She brought her hands up to pry his fingers off her cheeks.

“What do you think I see?” he asked softly.

Her head shook just a few centimeters in either direction; all that she had room for in his grasp.

“I see the woman who saw something in me, when I had nothing but a resume to define who I was to her.”

She blinked several times to keep the impending tears at bay.

“And I told you, I wasn’t going to allow that kind of talk from you didn’t I?”

He watched her head bob up and down in a nod.

“Because a woman as brilliant as you has more to offer than a super model, or Hollywood actress, or world class gymnast. I don’t love you for your body, for your genetic traits passed on from your father, or for the size of your glasses. I love you for all that and more. You are adorable. You are beautiful. And you are sexy. Just like this.”

She dabbed at her eyes before he tilted her head back and claimed her lips in an emotionally charged embrace. She was on her feet in the next instant, her arms clinging to his waist as she pulled him in. The feel of him, the scent of him, it was intoxicating, but his words were the real drug. His powerful words and their equally powerful impact.

“Thank you Charles.” She whispered against the blazing skin of his chest.

“Always Bunty.” He whispered back.
……………………………

Mrs. Young rapped her knuckles loudly against the front door as she opened it and stepped into the foyer. She was immediately greeted by the excited and boisterous Bowser, who jumped and made little ‘ahp’ barks to welcome her. A new sight but one she accepted wholeheartedly in her daughter’s life. This penthouse needed some new life breathed into it.

She announced herself (one could never be too careful when young lovers were involved) as she made her trek through the hall and into the living room. She heard water running and found the couple at the sink with barely a full outfit between them. She chuckled at the endearing sight.

“Have you two become deaf to the world?” she asked. “I knocked, I announced my presence, Bowser even barked…”

“Sorry mom. Can’t hear a thing over the water and dishes clanking.” Sam shrugged as Charlie handed her another plate for her to put in the rack. He dried his hands on the dishtowel and turned around to address the woman. Her pitched up brows and tightly puckered lips held him silent as he realized his fading bruises were still quite visible against his pale skin.

“Oh.” He brought a hand up nervously. “Ah…fencing class.” He explained.

“I was about to say…Sam, don’t break him honey.” She chuckled, watching both of them turn red. “I didn’t realize today was Half-Dressed Day either.”

“We were just about to remedy that.” He replied, his hand on Samara’s back, easing her out of the kitchen as her mother just snickered at them and pulled out a chair.

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Wait…What have you got up your sleeve today?” She inquired as Charlie continued to nudge her onward.

“We’ll see.” Was all the response they received.

Marching up the stairs Sam shook her head, not entirely comfortable with anything her mother had in mind. Back in her room, Charlie retrieved his gray shirt and slipped it on in seconds, located his shoes and was finished. “Alright, what are we in the mood for today: a dress, skirt, shorts?”

She stepped over to her closet and contemplated a moment. A day out with her mother could mean anywhere, so it needed to be fashionable and casual enough for any situation. A dress would suffice. She flung aside one after the other until she found a decent “day dress” that wouldn’t send the wrong message.

“I do not envy the fashion dilemma of women.” He remarked as he watched her flip through dresses like playing cards. He held out his hand for the hanger once she pulled it down. “Although I do love the end result.” His eyes roamed over her as she lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled it upwards, over her head and carefully over the brace.

“Of course you do.” She smirked while she shoved her arms through the opening in her bra and turned around for him to fasten. Once latched, she shifted the girls around until they were both in place and accepted the soft purple short sleeve dress he handed her. It slipped on like a long tee shirt and cinched at the waist with a violet belt.

“Purple certainly suits you.” He noted, helping her stand as she tucked her feet in to a pair of white flats.

“You think so? I just happen to like the color.” She stood in front of her mirror and checked herself from all available angles. He pecked the crown of her head with a kiss as he hung the hanger back up.

“No more dallying, your mother awaits.”

Begrudgingly she obliged, grabbing her white purse from the previous day, making sure she had her essentials and quickly dashing down the stairs along with him to find her mother standing in the foyer, Bowser on his leash and looking them over.

“Alright you two, we’re going shopping.”
………………………….

“Samantha dahling…” the manager cooed in an exaggerated accent that was neither here nor there on a nationality and more of the imagined posh expectance. He embraced her with a hug and a friendly kiss to each cheek in greeting. “Are deez de onez we shall be measuring?” he inquired with a saucy tilt of his eyebrow and lip, as if not impressed.

“My daughter Samara and her handsome assistant; Charlie.” She presented with a flourishing flick of her wrist. “We have a very important client meeting in two weeks. Can you assure me you’ll have them ready?”

“But of course!” he man declared, insulted at the very thought of not being able to deliver his product on time. With a commanding clap of his hands, a wave of employees rushed from seemingly nowhere and approached the two. The ladies surrounded Samara and the men surrounded Charlie, pulling them into different designated areas, forcing them to stand on a platform, arms out, and chins up.

“This is NOT what I had in mind when you said we were going shopping!” Sam all but spat as her head was forced upright, a woman pressing a measuring tape along the curve of her spine.

“Of course it isn’t, but I’ve seen your wardrobe and sweetheart, it’s time for an upgrade.” She then turned to Charlie who was being man-handled in his own way.

“And you; don’t even think about trying to pay me back. Think of this as an investment.”

“What I have has sufficed….” He began.

“Charlie,” the woman sighed. “You’re brilliant and adaptable, fine traits for the company, among our staff it matters not what you wear. But to other clients who can tell Armani or Gucci from across the room, they will look down upon you merely for the secondhand suit you wear despite everything you have to say. And then that would look poorly upon YT as a whole.”

A seat was brought up for her and an ottoman for Bowser, who sat plump and happy as an occasional hand petted him. A glass of wine was poured and handed to her as she and the long-time friend that was the manager chatted a few minutes before he went to overseeing color swatches.

“I know of the people you’ll be seeing in San Francisco. These are the kind that will buy a truckload of champagne just to fill their pool with and think nothing of it. You will be judged even before you enter the building.” She took a sip. “Mmmm, good stuff.” She mentioned to the assistant that served her. “I need you to set an exceptional example: in appearance, in manner, in speech. You have to sell yourselves along with the proposal. It’s how the game is played.”

Charlie and Samara passed empathetic glances when they could at each other, but were mostly swarmed, poked, posed, and minorly violated as measuring tape and hands touched nearly every part of their body. With her mother sitting regal as a queen, wineglass in hand, Bowser at her side, she signaled her approval or dislike for the colors and patterns presented.

Samara with her fondness for purple was easy to select for, but Charlie’s pale complexion left little wiggle room for colors that wouldn’t make him look paler in comparison. A classic navy blue, black, and tan suit was selected before more exotic choices were presented. She found the teal especially appealing. After suits, shirts and vests were then lined up, followed by ties, handkerchiefs, socks and shoes and the accessories.

“Mom, isn’t this a little….much?” Samara voiced her concern as a mint green yard of material was wrapped around her torso. “Charlie isn’t used to this kind of thing.”

Her mother merely smiled and batted those butterfly lashes at her. “Then he better get used to it quickly. As I said, I’m making an investment. Looking good is only part of the art of deal making.” She nodded to the employee.

“This is gonna cost a couple thousand dollars…”

“Sweetie, what’s the point of a platinum card if I don’t get to break the bank every now and then?” her mother joked.

“Excellent point.” The manager replied as he sauntered back into the fray. “You must spend money to make it.”

It was a grueling, arduous affair to endure, but they survived.

At lunch, the trio sat at a little bistro and shared iced tea and anecdotes as they awaited their food. Samantha chuckled a twinkling laugh at Charlie recounting memories of his childhood; chasing stubborn sheep and playing along the rocks at the shore. “Sounds like a delightful environment to grow up in.” she mused.

“It is quite beautiful, full of charm. I fear though that I may be looking through rose-tinted glasses, after all, I came here for a better career.”

Samantha lifted her drinking glass. “Cheers to that.”

Bowser poked his head out of the purse she had specifically bought just to carry him in and wiggled his nose in delight of all the interesting scents in the air. Charlie couldn’t help but feel his dog's loyalty had been bribed like that of a child with a doting grandparent; the little guy was in heaven with all the special treatment.

“So, about this client we’re going to see….” He inquired. He wanted to be prepared in every way possible. If Mrs. Young insisted on purchasing him tailor fitted suits just to make a visual impression then he needed to be mentally prepared as well. Nothing like playing the innocent bystander at the Harris meeting. The woman was a fountain of knowledge, years as a receptionist had taught her how to read a person as they entered a room.

She turned to her daughter with a serious expression. “You should be aware; most of these men are used to getting their way-all of the time. They will try to intimidate you, cajole you, and even seduce you into giving them what they want.” Her eyes darted between the two of them. “I know you’ll be disgusted and insulted, it is just a tactic. Do not let the fact that you’re together come in between your rationality of sealing the deal.”

Charlie placed a hand over Samara’s.

“I know you didn’t take it well when the delivery man was touching her.” She addressed him. “That situation is nothing compared to what I’ve had some of these business tycoons say about me-or try with me-as if I was a toy for their entertainment. You will need to keep that protective urge of yours under control.”

“I understand ma’am.” He nodded.

“And Sammie, sometimes it doesn’t hurt to flirt back.”

“What?”

“I’m not saying you do anything you’re uncomfortable with; I am saying that a little superfluous complimenting and ego catering can make a world of difference. It isn’t the same playing field when men deal with men. They boast, banter, and bellow to get what they want. When a woman enters the fray, a new strategy is required.”

“As much as I hate to disagree with that, she’s absolutely correct.” He said, squeezing her hand. “Whatever we have to deal with is just a momentary inconvenience at best.”

“Yeah….I know…” she sighed. But it was something her father couldn’t teach her, it was something that she had to figure out how to handle on her own.

………………………………..

In order to lift the somber mood from their client strategy conversation Samantha drove them to the aquarium, dropping them off to stroll around while she took Bowser for a walk. Linking hands, they moseyed on by tanks of various fish and their sea brethren.

“It amazes me how steadfast your mother is in all of this.” He stated. “She has no problem with us and has gone so far as to make sure I’ll have a suit in time for this big client…I only can hope she continues to be so supportive in helping convince Jay and your father that I’m no threat.”

Samara stopped. “I don’t care about what they think. Yes, what they have to say matters to me, but I won’t let them deter me from what I want. And I want you Charles.”

He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Right here and now Bunty? Oh you naughty girl…” he teased, earning him a playful smack to his shoulder. He couldn’t help but cackle freely at her expense to his joke for a few minutes before leaning in and stealing a kiss.

“Charles Rhysand Jones…” she breathed in a heady whisper.

“Yes?” he whispered back, arms enveloping her in a dark corner of the exhibit. He nuzzled against her cheek before resting his chin atop her head.

“I think I love you.” She murmured.

He smiled to himself, feeling his chest swell to nearly bursting. There was barely an inch of space left to breathe with, but he had never felt more alive. Cradling the back of her head, letting her hair entangle his fingers he murmured back “I know.”

. . . . . . . . . .

Chapter Text

Ah, the Daily Grind. The familiar scene. The familiar aromas. The familiar faces.

It was just what she needed.

Her flight from Tokyo to San Francisco to LA had left her jet lagged and cranky, only adding to her ire of placing second. Nothing soothed a sore ego (and butt) like a cozy cup and the comfy couch in the DG.

She pushed open the doors and basked in the chill of the AC as it washed over her like an Artic breeze. God blessed air conditioning for these sweltering California summers. With her vibrant red hair pulled into a ponytail the hairs on her neck were exposed and tickled in the chill. Her eyes took in the scene, nothing had changed at all. Perfect.

On happy yet tired feet, she strolled over to the counter, watching the muscles twitch along his back as Link was cranking open a new canister of organic tea leaves. The sight of him still filled her with that uneasy butterflyfish feeling she’d been hit with on their first meeting. Amazing how long it had lasted, despite everything.

He was so engrossed in his work he hadn’t registered the chime of the door, or her footfall as she approached. His lion’s mane of a ponytail swished with the frustrated jerk of his neck, grunting as the can opener refused to crank easily. It was entertaining sight.

She let out a serene chuckle that halted him immediately. His spine straightened as if he’d been hit with a kendo stick. The slow tilt of his thick neck and ripple of his shoulders as his body turned around played out beautifully in her imagined cinematic framed mind. She broke into a grin when his face lit up, recognizing her instantly.

“Holy Hell, Angie!” he exclaimed, coming around the counter and reaching out for a hug before stopping short. He tried regaining his composure, his face becoming a little red, becoming even redder when she filled in the last bit of space between them with her own bone crushing hug.

“It’s good to see you Link.” She sighed, inhaling the scent of his shirt, closing her eyes as she reveled in a mix of coffee, sweat, and manly musk. His arms were splayed outwards, frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to bring himself to wrap around her.

“Y-you too…” he stammered, looking around. Not very many customers were there, let alone any who cared to pay attention to their embrace. Except for Dee, coming out of the back room and squealing a second later.

“OhmygawdAngela!” she shouted with enthusiasm, drawing in the attention of said customers, if only for a moment. Regulars knew Delilah had boisterous greetings for beloved individuals.

The embrace with Link came to an abrupt end as she switched over to hug and lift Dee off the ground, eliciting a high pitched shriek of delight and a tiny bit of fear from the dwarfed barista. “Angela O’Neill, put me down this instant!” she screamed, squeezing onto her neck like a koala to a tree.

Angela acquiesced; just the joy of this moment was enough to make up for the long flight, her freckled face beaming with glee. “It’s good to be back. I need a drink.”

“Oh girl do I have stories for you!” Dee whispered as Link set to work, deafened by the machinery he operated. “Get comfortable, you’re gonna be here a while.”

………………………….

Two grueling weeks of hard work had paid off. Every day of them had been spent in preparation for this moment, and now, here it was. Standing in the elevator, hands grasped in one final show of affection they could spare each other, dressed in their brand new suits, they waited with baited breath, reflecting on what had brought them to where they were now.

……………………………

Charlie had wowed his Driver’s Ed teacher, passed the test with flying colors, and as promised Samuel Young had selected a vehicle he dubbed the “company car” until Charlie would later take ownership. It was a security measure that Charlie had no qualms with. Nothing was being taken for granted.

“You keep her maintained and gassed up, pay the insurance monthly and I’ll sign the ownership of it over to you.” Samuel had said with a handshake and a signature. Charlie was not going to disappoint the man.

The new wardrobe provided by Mrs. Young fit like a glove and were beautiful. She insisted on getting a picture of them wearing each new outfit in its entirety. Upon requesting them being sent to his phone, he in turn sent them to his mother, along with the beloved photo he’d taken of Samara and explained his relationship in the longest phone conversation he’d had in his whole life.

Occasionally switching from English to Welsh depending on whom he was speaking with, the phone being passed from relative to relative, each one wanting to know specifics about this wonderful girl he’d met, he’d plopped upon his bed in exhaustion when he was through, plugging in the phone to charge as well.

Since that conversation, he’d received messages from his family nearly daily, always inquiring on his day, how her hand was healing, if he had made peace with her brother, if her father knew and how would he react if he did, or what their plans were and when would they have a picture of them together?

It was almost to the degree of when he first immigrated and they all fretted for his safety and well-being. Caring and supportive as always, but just a little smothering. Samara had sympathized with him immediately, leaning her head on his shoulder when they spent a night watching their favorite cult classics on their movie date night.

A conversation that had been a round of 20 Questions led them to learn a little more about each other, especially which movie character they idolized the most. It didn’t come off as too much of a surprise when Charlie said it was Westley from The Princess Bride. A dashing pirate with a heart of gold? She chuckled in rosy cheek delight.

But when he asked her, she hesitated and grew embarrassed. Eventually she fessed up to it being the gamer girl Kate Libby from Hackers, with the badass username Acid Burn. Charlie sat, blank faced, the entire thing flying over his head.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen it? It’s a classic!” she exclaimed. “I’ve got a copy. We’ll watch it and you’ll see what I mean.”

“Aside from the upmost weirdest moments that was actually pretty good.” He replied when the film was over. “I can see how her character was something to behold back then.”

They had packed accordingly for a three day trip, Samuel insisting they have a day for rest and sightseeing along with the time needed for the drive, once it was agreed that would be the mode of transportation. Naturally, it would be speedier to take a flight, but her claustrophobia would not let her be at ease for that and after discovering it would take twice as long by train, the car was the final option.

“It’s only 470 miles, so that’ll be a 6-8 hour drive, give or take with road condition, traffic, and weather. Are you sure you’re up for that?” she asked him.

“No better way to find out than to do it.” He answered.

He’d been in road trips across the trek of his country that were shorter than that, but California was a stretched out division of land the encompassed all kinds of different terrain. It was a country all of its own, people had joked, and now he was beginning to see why. The trunk of the car had already been supplied with a brand new first aid kit, a spare nebulizer and replacement parts, medication, the spare tire naturally, along with bottled water, coolant and a tool kit.

Upon opening the trunk to insert their luggage he joked that her father forgot the kitchen sink, having to shift things around to make room for the suitcases. Samara laughed, recalling how every trip to the beach went like a military drill as her father packed for every kind of disaster possible, leaving little room for actual clothing. An atlas and road map were in the glove compartment, state-of-the-art GPS system installed, and a full diagnostic was run before Samuel cleared the vehicle safe for journey.

Navigating the city was the most harrowing part, but once they had landed in the safety of the freeway, the tension had lightened and the journey could truly begin. Hours to themselves, able to share their tastes in music as they talked about anything and everything. Samara, finally able to kick back and relax as Charlie took the helm would steal a glance at him every now and then, especially when he would focus when faced with a backlog of traffic or detour signs.

Having left early in the morning was a plus for them, beating the majority of the morning commuters and giving them plenty of time should there be any delays further up the way. Pit stops were planned and few moments of sightseeing allotted as Samara would point out various iconic points of California scenery to virgin tourist eyes. She picked up his phone and took pictures for him to later share with his family.

Having made it to their destination by the afternoon they were both excited and exhausted, taking a moment to order room service for a meal and then slipping into a nap.
………………………………

Angela sat back in shock, her cup almost sliding out of her hand. The things she had just been told….was NOT what she was expecting to hear from Dee when she pulled her into the sitting area and leaned in, the gleam in her eyes like a gossiping teenager. An entire saga of drama had unfolded between her best friends while she had been away.
True, she was surprised as all get out when she received a late night text from Sam claiming she’d been in a bar fight and used the defense move she taught her all those years ago. At first, she thought it was a joke because she all the way in Japan but the following text was a picture, and she knew Sam would NEVER joke with makeup.

Granted, her distance with the time zones and the competition had taken up most of the available time she had, so she couldn’t keep up with conversation and it eventually slipped her mind. Now she was hearing it from someone who had absolutely no reason to lie, let alone about Sam, and let alone to HER FACE. Therefore it must be true.

Angela put a hand to her forehead, feeling whammied by the roundhouse kick of truth. Samara Hannah Young had gone off the damn rails this past month. And all because of this new man in her life? The guy she hired on as her assistant? Like WTF was going on here?

“Dude, this is crazy. There’s no way…”

Dee just kept nodding as Angela’s voice faded off, Link coming up to them, wiping his hands on his green apron. “Dee, it’s my break now.” He said, eyes meeting Angela’s stoically.

She hopped up and came up to him, pulling on his shirt so he’d tilt down low enough for her to whisper in confidence. “She’s a silver medal black belt; keep that in mind if you want to tell her you’re the one who hit Sam…” she warned before taking control of the shop.

Once they were alone Angela offered for him to sit with her. He undid the apron and released a breath, taking the chair Dee had just been sitting in. He undid his ponytail and shook his hair loose, sending that little electric jolt through her unknowingly.

“Y-you look tense.” She managed to say, recovering quickly.

“It’s been stressful Angie.” He confessed. “Sam and I have drifted further apart than ever before and I don’t even know if we can go back to being friends.” He puffed his cheeks and blew out the breath in exasperation.

Thanks to the quick recap from Dee, Angela now knew why. Not that she could blame Sam for taking comfort with Link…She wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear about it but there was nothing to be done now.

“Some welcome wagon this turned out to be.” He mused bitterly.

She set her cup down. “Actually…” she trailed off for a moment, then gathered her thought and faced him. “It’s kinda alright. Sure, things have changed…but change is good right? At least things aren’t boring as fuck around here.”

He pulled his hands down along his face and huffed. “Yeah, things sure aren’t boring… Well, I gotta get back to work and I’m sure all you want is a hot bath and a long nap.” He got to his feet and picked up his apron, barely clearing the lounge area before Angela called out to him.

“Hey! You still rock climb?” she blurted out suddenly.

He hung his shoulders. “Haven’t in a while.” He answered, looking back at her.

“Wanna fix that?” she asked with that playful feline gleam in her eye that never failed to send tingles down his spine.

“S-sure.” He replied, feeling his face redden just a bit. “We could do that.”
……………………

They awoke to a late afternoon hazy sky, securing just a brief nap to recharge their batteries. They checked their phones, both finding messages from her father demanding to know if they had arrived safely and to inform him immediately. They both sighed in laughter and set to clicking away at their phones, responding in kind that they yes they had and were well rested.

Sam checked her inbox, finding an earlier message she missed from Angela stating that her flight from Tokyo was first landing in SF and then she had a layover to L.A.

“What? She’s back?!?” she exclaimed. “And she first landed here too! Today?”

“Your friend Angela?” he inquired, untucking his shirt and flapping it to smooth out the wrinkles from lying in bed.

“Yeah. I had no idea…but she’s already back in L.A. But heck, what are the odds of that happening?” she chuckled and stopped suddenly when she saw the contemplative look on his face. “Don’t, actually tell me…” she quickly added.

“I’m sure when this little endeavor is over she’ll be more than happy to see you.”

“God I hope so. I haven’t been the best at keeping her in the loop lately.”

He leaned over and swiped the phone out of her hand, causing her to jerk her head up and be met with a surprise kiss to the lips. “Shall we enjoy a little San Francisco nightlife before our big day?” he offered with a set of twinkling blue eyes peering down at her.

“How can I say no?” she replied, using his most often given answer to many of her requests.

She wasn’t perturbed at all by his choice to take them to Fisherman’s Wharf, seeing as this was his first time in San Francisco and he wanted the full tourist experience. They took a cab to the famed destination, the cabbie believing due to his accent that they were both out-of-country tourists and rattled on about all the wonderful things the port had to offer. Sam remained silent and let the man do his due diligence as a civil servant and flashed him a courteous smile as they departed.

Entwining fingers, they walked along the cobblestone sidewalks and watched street performers with a gaggle of coin tossing tourists, horse drawn carriages clomping by, and the cry of seagulls swooping by above the barking cacophony of the lounging sea lions loafing among Pier39. She inhaled the smell that could only be called San Francisco air, its unique mixture of sea spray, sourdough bread, and the kerosene from a fire eating performer.

They entered the Cannery Shopping Center and bought the usual trinket like magnets and postcards to send to his family and paid entry for the Ripley’s Believe It or Not museum, taking turns reading out loud the extraordinary facts posted by the exhibits and walking away with the knowledge of just how weird the world could get at times. They passed the Applebee’s restaurant and headed straight for the iconic helm shaped Fisherman’s Wharf sign on the corner of Jefferson St to take a series of pictures: one of it by itself, one of her with it, and then one of him with it.

“I suppose I’m making it quite obvious that I’m a tourist, aren’t I?” he chuckled with a touch of embarrassment to her delight.

She took his arm and leaned against him. “It’s been years since I last was here, so don’t feel bad. I kinda like seeing you be all excited about being somewhere new. Were you like this when you came to L.A.?”

“Actually, no.” he answered, placing his hand over hers. “I was overwhelmed with its size at first, kept to my little area near my flat and the route to work. I ventured out when it came to finding a grocer, furniture of course, and eventually learned of the fencing club at the gym. Learning bus routes became my obsession so I would know when and where to go at all times. I didn’t really take in the sights. I was just trying to get by.”

“That’s kinda sad Charles. I was hoping you’d have a bit of fun with what Los Angeles had to offer.” She murmured as they walked, watching the sky become a canvass of vibrant orange and dark violet with streaks of hot blazing pink, a living masterpiece morphing in the sky to marvel for the moment.

“Eventually I did.” He replied. “Fencing Club was something I truly looked forward to, before Eva started making her advances.”

Samara halted on the spot. “Say what?”

The tone in which those words dropped caused a chill to course down his spine. He looked down at her and saw a blaze of heat in her glare.

“She did what?” the little brunette demanded.

“Samara, it’s nothing to worry about now. I rebuked her several times, long before I even met you, let alone knowing how your pasts were tied.”

“You’re telling me you weren’t even remotely interested?”

Oh Crist….

“I’m not sure I like Jealous Samara.” He joked, trying to ease the tension. But her feet were rooted to the spot and she wouldn’t budge. He sighed. “Annwyl… I don’t see why this bothers you, I told you I rejected her and I’m here with you aren’t I? Is that not enough?”

Teeth snuck out and nibbled her bottom lip. “Sorry, I just hear her name and it just brings out the ugly side of me. Knowing that she bruised you like she did…and then hearing this? Just makes me want to hit her again.”

He was finally able to get her moving again, heading over to the railing edge so they lean against it and admire the sunset. The streetlights lit up, the giant letters of the Ghirardelli’s chocolate factory blazed across the collective of brickwork buildings, unmistakable and unavoidable to the wandering eye. Ferry’s passed by like toy boats, illuminated from the inside as they trekked back and forth to the city and back. It was a spectacular sight to behold.

“This city really is something isn’t it?” he mused, eyes drinking it all in.

She smirked. “Have you ever heard of the song? There’s a reason people say they left their heart in San Francisco…”

“I can certainly see why.” He replied, held in thrall by the evening glow against her face. “If I hadn’t already sworn my heart to you before, I think tonight I would have. It’s like…the city cast a spell…”

She tucked some hair behind her ear. “Yeah, it kinda feels like there’s something in the air…”

His hand snuck along the rail and gently caressed her bare arm, bringing goose bumps along her skin. She turned her head in his direction, lifting one corner of her mouth in a smile. In one fluid motion she had slipped her glasses off her face and tilted her head back as he did with his, leaning down to meet her lips with his own. Their arms wrapped around each other in a deliberately slow embrace, savoring the feel of each other as their bodies melded into one. Just one of many couples basking in the love of each other, they went by unnoticed, perhaps making it into the background of a tourist’s picture but otherwise didn’t raise an eyebrow of passerby’s.

They soon found themselves in another taxi, and not too long after that back at their hotel, up the elevator and on their floor, against their door as he slid the key card in while she pushed down the door handle, with them stumbling into the entrance and shutting the door with perhaps a little too much force, as they locked lips once again and began pulling at each other’s clothes.

His shirt was the first off, flung off without care before he lifted hers up and over her head, minding the wrapping they’d already gotten so used to on her right arm. It too flew, momentarily, before landing on the TV stand. Her purse and shopping bag had been carelessly dropped upon the nearby table, sliding off to the seat of the chair tucked underneath as he lifted her by the buttocks and carried her to their bed.

She was dropped upon her back, bouncing once before he loomed over her, his teeth gnawing at her bra strap as his hands worked on the button and zipper of her jean shorts with her sliding her shoes off her feet by scraping them against the edge of the bed. Once they and her panties were cast aside she rolled onto her stomach so he could unlatch her bra, his fingers making quick work of the little hook clasp.

But he pressed a hand onto her back, keeping her in place before she could change position, slowly running along her spine and collecting a handful of hair in his hand, his lips kissing the back of her neck as his other hand caressed the curve of her ass, slowly inching its way a lower, wetter location as she already stirred beneath him.

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” He mused as her body already responded by moving so he could have better access. “Have these past two weeks been too long?”

“Far too long.” She growled, gripping the sheet and shuddering as she felt two fingers enter her from behind. Two broad, thick fingers that were nimble and agile as they navigated her inner folds. She raised her ass up in the air, feeling him go as deep as he could, teasing her with well-paced movements. Whimpers released as she fought to keep composure, causing her to bury her face in the fabric of the bedding, gripping it with desperation as he nipped her shoulder blades, feeling his breath tingle against the wet skin.

She had noticed how her body gave in to him all too easily, too weak to resist against his charm. A flick of his hair, a gleam in his eye, that smile of his…and before she knew it her clothes were off and she was surrendering. The way his hands caressed her as if he were handing fine porcelain, and yet firm enough to keep her held in place if she even tried to fight was a paradox she couldn’t fathom. She wanted him to sink his teeth into her neck, rake his claws down her back, and ravish her like a demon just as much as she craved his innocently gentle handling. He created this dual longing within her, igniting her body with his passion.

With a final plunge within her, that final gasp which escaped her lungs, she shuddered and flopped onto the mattress, legs twitching as the dew trickled down her thighs. He leaned over and kissed her ear as she took breath after breath, regaining her capacity.

“Fy Mrenhines.” He whispered; lips at her neck. His hand rested on the flat of her back, feeling her rhythmic breathing return to normal. He was quickly learning that sound her body emitted, despite her verbal proclamation of being well enough to go again, and knew that the short break would only slate her hunger all the more.

“Fy Brenin.” She replied with a husky whisper, sending a thrill rush through his blood. His little Bunty was a quick study. She rolled onto her side and reached up to cup his jaw. “Golygus.” She said, watching his eyes widen and that beaming smile shine down at her.

“Flattering me now? Oh Bunty, there’s no need for that.” He cooed as he leaned down for a kiss. “You know I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

“What if I demand the impossible?” she countered, pulling him in so much that he braced a knee upon the bed over her.

“Sometimes I believe up to six impossible things before breakfast.” He replied, wondering if she would recognize the quote.

She smirked, her eyebrow raised for a moment. “Oh really? Tell me six impossible things then.” She rolled completely on her back, positioning herself underneath him.

“One: I had the courage to leave my homeland and immigrate to America.” He stated before placing a kiss to her clavicle.

“Two: I found employment with a company that could’ve easily overlooked me.” He followed it with a kiss to her solar plexus.

“Three: I was blessed with a manager who saw my potential.” The kiss that followed graced her belly button.

“Four: I met this amazing woman with an extraordinary mind, who just so happens to like me back.” He flicked his hair back and placed a teasing, feather light kiss to her pelvis, causing her to stir.

“Five: I successfully drove the distance from Los Angeles to San Francisco with no prior knowledge of how to get there.” He trailed even lower, dropping a kiss onto her knee.

“And Six: I finally found my place.” He knelt on the floor and placed a kiss to the top of her foot.

She shifted herself up on her elbows. “Your place?” she echoed, curious as to what he meant. She watched as he unbuckled his belt, methodically sliding it through the loops and tossing it aside, his eyes fixed on hers. His hands teased, slowly pulling the zipper down, knowing she was salivating in anticipation. The pants dropped unceremoniously with just a pair of briefs that was leaving nothing to the imagination.

Before he could remove them she had hurriedly up righted herself and then crawled over to him, taking his hips in her hands. He allowed her to pull him towards her, relishing the feel of her lips trail down his chiseled torso as she shifted down the elastic hem of the underwear. His hands cradled her face, fingers combing through her hair as he lifted her chin upwards to plant a kiss to her lips.

“My place…is with you…” he whispered.
………………………..

Standing in the elevator, hands grasped in one final show of affection they could spare each other, dressed in their brand new suits, they waited with baited breath as they passed floor after floor until reaching their destination.

Their client was a man named Jared Marino, a trust-fund baby from Italian-American parents that had long established roots in the winery business when they first immigrated to the new country. His entire set of floors were decked in Italian opulence, an impressive display of heritage in every corner. For a moment, one could be convinced they were in Italy rather than California.

The display of wealth was a nauseating trait to Samara, but she kept her disdain for it hidden under her business persona. Today she was the Young Shark, ready to strike a deal with a highly influential client that could become an asset to the company. Another deal to have as a notch in her belt, proof that she was fully capable of running Young Tech on her own, and taking it in the direction she saw fit.

The assistant greeted them kindly, a svelte woman with caramel skin and a pixie cut, wearing huge golden hoops and a gold medallion gracing her neck to offset the solid black pantsuit she wore. “Mr. Marino is out on the balcony.” She stated, leading them past the lobby and offices to a set of French doors, opening it and ushering them through first.

Views like this did not come cheap. The scope this perspective offered alone just tallied more dollars as the entire Bay was his for ogling. The Wharf, Alcatraz, hills off in the distance…it looked as if San Francisco was a miniature model city paired with a realistic soundtrack and briny breeze for added effect. The dark haired man sat at a marble topped patio table, brunch set for one, but with champagne chilling in an ice bucket and his selected bottle of Primitivo to accompany his meal.

He stood upon the arrival of his guests, hand out to firmly grasp Charlie’s and then stepping close to Samara, his touch gentle and intimate as he nearly caressed her bandage to Charlie’s ire.

“Goodness, what happened here?” he inquired with inquisitive gray eyes.

“Fencing incident.” Samara replied before the scent of his cigar tickled her nose and she let out a minor cough. She brought her other hand up to cover her mouth. “Forgive me…I can’t…” she apologized under the muffled mask of her left hand while slipping her right one out of his grasp.

She backed away and headed straight through the open door with the assistant shutting it right behind her. He tilted his head to the side, watching her as she fled with a little tsk on his lips and shake of his head.

“What a tight little ass…” Charlie heard him whisper.

Already his patience was being tested and he’d not even had a seat.

“So, Charles, sit with me.” He ordered, taking his seat once again. He didn’t seem bothered in the least that his secondhand smoke nearly triggered her asthma. But Charlie knew that the man would take it as an insult if he did not comply. As requested, he pulled out another chair.

“Cigar?” he offered.

He politely declined.

“You’re not from around here are ya?” the man asked as if he was the first to point that out. He couldn’t be much more than his own age, give or take a couple years. If he grew a beard he’d definitely pass for being older, must be why he kept a clean shaven face but Charlie could see hints of a 5 o’clock shadow.

“You do realize we drove from Los Angeles.” Charlie reminded him. “As to my nationality, I hail from Wales.”

“Wales? Where dafuq is that man?” he laughed before taking another sip of his wine.

Charlie rolled his shoulders and popped his neck, trying to let the philistine’s comment wash off his back. “It borders England. I’m sure you’re at least familiar with that one’s location.” He mustered with as much grace as he could.

Jared nodded. Yeah sure.

“So, what’s it like working with that little honey every day? Girl knows how to fill a suit.” He ended his comment with a little grunt that pierced another of Charlie’s patience balloons.

“It’s fine.” He quipped; already wanting their meeting to come to an end. “She’s a capable woman-”

“Oh spare me the ass-kissing.” Jared admonished, snubbing the last of his cigar. “No one gets the nickname Young Shark for nothing. You’re her assistant, she calls; you answer. Bet you know her better than most.”

Just what was going on here? Weren’t they supposed to be discussing a computer software to bring his family’s winery data entry up to speed with the MyEqual Cluster program? What was this man’s goal?

“I know that Missus Young is not a woman to be trifled with. I’ve seen her firsthand come face-to-face with men three times her size and take them down. And she’s far more intelligent than you think, so I wouldn’t try talking down to her if I were you. And you’d do yourself the favor of removing your jacket when we go back inside, so as not to trigger her asthma.”

Jared leaned back, arms crossed. It would seem the little assistant was awfully protective of his master, like any good dog should be.

“Asthma? Like what they say those fat kids have, needing those little puffer things?” The man cocked a brow and looked back through the glass doors where he could see his assistant handing her a bottle of sparkling water and chatting.

Charlie inhaled deeply, bringing the salty breeze into his lungs and down to his soul as he prayed for the strength to not throttle this dunce. “Asthma is not always attributed to obesity. One can inherit it, have it develop in their childhood, or even in their adult years depending on their specific triggers. Those who live near oil refineries see an increase in cases. Missus Young however, was born several months prematurely and therefore did not have adequate formed lungs. Please do be considerate of that.”

“Awfully protective there, I meant no offense man.” Jared chuckled with his hands making the ‘I give up’ pose for a second.

“I am charged with her well-being. If Mr. Young were to find out that a single encounter with you led to asthma attack, then I would run to the nearest church and claim sanctuary.”

Mr. Marino regarded the Welsh with skepticism as well as entertainment. “Duly noted.” He then popped to his feet with unbridled enthusiasm. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” he clapped his hands and rubbed them together like an excited fan at a sporting event.

Charlie followed him through the French door, fighting the urge to dropkick him in the knee and knock him over the head. He could only hope that Marino was a better businessman than a gentleman.
…………………………..

“I’m terribly sorry, if I had known you were asthmatic I wouldn’t have sent you out there. Mr. Marino likes to have a cigar with brunch.” The woman, named Lisbeth, apologized, taking her briefcase as Samara produced and shook her inhaler before taking a seat.

“It’s fine, the wind blew it right at me, otherwise it wouldn’t have been a bother.” She replied after drawing the medication into her lungs. She wondered what Marino was saying to Charlie, as he clearly did not look happy out there.

Lisbeth excused herself a moment, then returned with a bottle of sparkling water for her, inquiring if she needed anything else. Samara tried gauging the dark haired man as he leaned back and spoke in an offhanded manner, Charlie rigid and saying very little.

“Oooh, doesn’t look too good out there…” she muttered.

“Oh don’t take it the wrong way, but Mr. Marino is probably mentioning how cute your ass looks in your skirt, just to see how he’ll react.”

“He what?”

Lisbeth waved a hand at the brunette. “He does it all the time. Dude is a total Ass Man. Mentions mine at least once a week, but I’m lesbian so I don’t give two shits what he has to say, he can look all he wants, just not touch.”

Samara put a hand to her forehead, unsettled by the bluntness of this sexual harassment and how it seemed to be considered more of a joke than anything else. She took a quick sip of the water bottle to prevent herself from speaking her mind.

“Just take whatever he says with a grain of salt and keep him to the deal.” She leaned over with the whispered advice as the doors opened and the men reentered.

“Apologies ladies.” Jared announced upon entry, flinging his coat aside to land gracelessly on the back of a lounge chair. “It’s not often one has the chance to make a second first impression.” He bent low and took her left hand this time, placing a delicate kiss to her knuckles in his flourish of an apology.

Samara blinked a few times, completely caught off guard.

“Asthma is such a fickle mistress, is she not? Never know what it will be that will set it off.” He added, helping her to her feet. “I’ll be sure to keep my cigar breaks few and far in between during your stay.”

Whoa, where the hell did this suave charm come from all of a sudden? Charlie eyed the man with skepticism, deciding the man was purposely presenting himself as a gentleman with Samara and a total rake with him. But for what purpose?

“How are you enjoying my city?” he purred, wrapping his arm around hers and escorting her through the double doors and into his conference room, leaving Charlie to glower from behind.

Samara forced a cute little laugh. “Your city? I didn’t realize you owned it!” The joke brought a roar of laughter from the tycoon as if they were old chums.

“Oh no no, we actually own more of Napa Valley than anything else. But I leave the grapes for my father to fiddle with and I take care of things here in the hustle and bustle of the treasure of California.” He boasted.

“Ah yes, about that…” she began, stopping their jaunty little walk and slipping her arm out of his hold. “I’m curious as to why you even need a program like the MyEqual Cluster in the first place….”

‘Remember to cater to the Ego a little….’

“Oh? Your father didn’t tell you? Aren’t you supposed to be the next CEO pretty soon?”

Samara bit back the retort on her tongue and merely smiled. “I’m sure it was mentioned but a certain thing superseded my attention.” She held up her right hand and wiggled her fingers as best as she could.

Charlie and Lisbeth hung back, walking in silence, carrying the briefcase and bottled water, Lisbeth with her trusty tablet at hand should she need to jot down any notes. It surprised him when the woman leaned over and spoke in a whisper. “Don’t let him get to ya. He likes to divide and conquer.”

“Does his hands need to be on her?” he gritted through tightly gnashed teeth, his knuckles curling around the handle of the briefcase until the leather creased.

“Easy there Fido.” She hushed.

They were led to another room with an impressive mural painted on the wall of the vineyard, in all its original glory. Something as grand and massive as this must’ve taken months to complete and looked glorious enough to come from Rome itself. Whomever he had commissioned for the work was a true maestro.

“This is the family biz.” He waved his hand to encompass the magnificent work. “And unfortunately due to recent rise in temperatures, our droughts, and lack of nutrients in the soil, the crops have been failing. The grapes we’re plucking off the vine now are not the same caliber as those five, ten, fifteen years ago.”

A true emotional strain in his voice seeped out before he contained it.

“Without divulging trade secrets I can at least tell you that my team has been calculating a scientific difference between what we have produced, and what we currently are. But the data for that kind of shit is staggering. No computer program I’ve come across as of late can handle the massive logging it takes to complete a scientific molecular strand of code.”

“It would be like trying to hand write the code used to get the Apollo mission to the moon.” Charlie piped in, causing Jared to turn sharply at the assistant. Charlie met his eye with a nonchalant glance, hands tucked in his pockets as the briefcase and water bottle rested on the nearby table. “What you need is a database strong enough to withhold more than the standard megabytes computers can carry. This would be moving teraflops.”

“Your assistant is a smart fella.” He said, gray eyes narrowed in an unsettling glare. “But yeah, that bout sums it up.”

Samara felt the tension bristling between them, despite their distance from each other. She tucked some hair behind her ear and gave Jared a smile. “We’ve never attempted to contain molecular code, but I believe the MyEqual Cluster can do it.”

“Well that’s why you’re here. I want to see an example of just what this baby can do, regardless of price.” He turned his attention back to her and once again clasped hold of her hand. “I’m sure you have no problem with that? If it works like you say, it’s a done deal.”

“A powerful program such as the MEQ with it being as new as it is, is as you say, a trade secret. I can’t just go install it in one of your computers and run the risk of someone having installed a Trojan or a Rabbit and copying it for themselves.” She countered.

But he was prepared for her to say that.

“Don’t fret little lady, I’d never double cross a business partner like that. But I took the precaution and ordered a brand new computer just for the sake of using it as a Guinea Pig.”

‘Little Lady?’ her eye almost twitched but she smiled nonetheless. ‘Remember, Mom said she’s been called worse things….’

“Well, let’s go put it to the test, shall we?”

Lisbeth led them to an office where the brand new computer still resided within its shipping container, sat on a desk. With a call to their IT guy, they watched as he cut open the cardboard, wrapped the plastic, fished out the items and began plugging things in. Charlie finally had a moment to pull Samara aside and whisper in confidence as Jared scribbled some things down on Lisbeth’s tablet.

“How do we know we can trust this guy?”

She shrugged. “That’s the gamble of dealing. We have to hope for the best.”

“I. Don’t. Like. Him.” He breathed out the words on an octave just short of silence.

Samara nodded and patted his shoulder. “Thank you for reminding me.” She replied loudly, grasping the attention of the business partners. “Excuse me Mr. Marino-”

“Please, call me Jared.” He insisted.

“Jared…” she continued. “It’s come to my attention that we’ve missed lunch, and I’m beginning to feel a little peckish.”

Lisbeth swiped a finger across her tablet. “What are you in the mood for? I can order anything.”

They all listed off their order, as Lisbeth stood and tapped her screen with incredibly quick fingers. “Alright, done. The cooks are on it and it should be ready within the half hour, if you can manage that long?” she inquired at Sam.

“That’s fine.” She nodded, clutching onto the bottle of water as the computer booted to life and began the protocol of recognizing the software within. There was no faking it; it was a genuinely virgin computer with no prior connection to any programming or the internet. After it took its course going through its initial startup, Samara plugged in the port containing the MEQ program and installed it.

Everyone watched with rapt attention as the loading bar grew by centimeters across the screen. A satisfying little beep and a pop up box to follow indicated the transfer was complete. Samara slid into the seat and typed in a password to activate access to it as Mr. Marino came up with a series of disks containing the information.

One by one, the disks were inserted, copied, ejected and repeated until all had gone through the process.

“Okay, all the information is in. Now, we command the MEQ to swallow all that information as a whole and contain it into one single file.” She stated for their benefit as she clicked along the keyboard left-handed and sweeping the mouse to follow through. All the previous weeks of practice had paid off.

“Our lunch has arrived.” Lisbeth announced.

“Perfect timing. Let’s let this do its thing while we grab some chow.” Jared gleamed, rubbing his hands together.
……………………..

Seated at the conference table, the four began their lunch. Jared sat at the head of the table, Lisbeth to his left, Samara to his right, and Charlie off to her right. The dining staff had set out a gorgeous display using fine china and crystal wine glasses, more Primitivo poured into Jared’s glass.

“So, Sam Young of Young Technologies…” he purred, twirling his drink. “What makes you tick?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, taken by surprise.

“Don’t tell me you walked right into Daddy’s company fresh out of school, fully intending to take over one day? What did you want to do with your life?”

“Oh that…” she responded with a sense of clarity. She stole a glance over at Charlie before turning her head back to her host. “If you’re really curious…I wanted to become an indie game designer.”

“Indie. Game. Designer…” the man repeated slowly, letting each syllable roll off his tongue. Then his face pinched in thought with a cock of his head. “Pretty freaking cool career choice, not too many chicks in it. What stopped ya?”

Charlie dropped his fork but quickly recovered, wiping it down before setting it back on the table. Samara turned at the initial metallic clank and flashed him a warning look, trying to convey that he needed to keep his cool. She coughed and took a drink of her wine, using every available second to think of a reason.

“My health.” She said stoically. “Things just didn’t work out. I have more leeway workin’ the family biz.” She answered, hoping her use of his lingo would make him feel more at ease with her.

“That’s a damn shame, I’m sure it’s something you ruminate over…” Jared slyly threw in, watching how the composure broke in his two guests.

Samara froze, her eyes fixed on him. “Is there something you want to say, Jared?”

“I think we’ve had enough of this game Mr. Marino.” Charlie added, hand clenching his cloth napkin tightly.

Jared snapped his fingers, holding out his hand for Lisbeth to set her tablet in it, which he turned around and touched the screen, playing one of the videos taken of their game night in the arcade. “Slaying at Street Fighter with one hand…” he chuckled. “Gotta say, I’m pretty impressed.”

Straightening her back, Samara silently faced the man and let him play his hand.

“Even making it on the scoreboard again. You’ve got talent.” His eyes glittered with admiration. He tapped the screen to pause it. “Your little buddy Marshall Law speaks highly of you, had to go see his review, see what this Ruminate thing was for myself.”

Neither Charlie nor Samara moved. They barely breathed.

Jared set the tablet down and tented his fingers, tapping them together. “Gotta say, haven’t played a computer RPG since college, filled me with some nostalgia for sure. Fun though. Has potential to take off.”

Flattery wasn’t going to get him anywhere, if that’s what he thought.

“Little thing that’s been nagging at me though…” he trailed off, picking up the tablet and pressing the play button once more. The video continued on with Sam’s final words to the camera and pose, before heading off through the crowd, Charlie catching up to her and taking her hand.

Her eyes widened.

“Ahhh, so it’s true then?” he chuckled.

“What’s it to you?” her eyes narrowed.

Jared set the tablet back in his assistant’s hands, her eyes casting an apologetic look their way. The man was lucky there was more distance between him and Charlie as the Welsh was barely containing himself.

“Oh I don’t care what you’re doing, and with whom.” He waved a hand dismissively, as if they somehow needed his approval and he couldn’t care less. “I just wonder how something like that is going to affect business.”

“It has no effect.” She replied. “What we do in our own time has no bearing on our work ethic.”

“Has that been what this is all about?” Charlie piped up, slapping the napkin down on the table and rising to his feet. “You’ve been playing with us ever since we walked through those doors. You damn well knew about her asthma to begin with, didn’t you? And making those remarks behind her back, just to what? Get me to let something slip? And now bringing up Ruminate? Just what are you playing at?”

“Wait.” Samara said calmly, holding her hand up at Charlie to stop his advance as she glared at her host. “You’ve shown your hand, but you’ve yet to place your bet. What do you want?”

Jared’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “I knew I’d like you.” He chuckled. “I just had to figure out which button to push. I want more than just a powerful program to keep up with cataloging grape DNA, I want a partnership with a company I can foresee growing in the future, something that is in with the times.”

“And you plan to what? Blackmail your way into that?” Charlie asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Pshaw” Jared exclaimed with a flick of his wrist. “Blackmail is for pussies. I’ve got more goddamn money that I can spend in a lifetime and I sign check after fucking check for everything from charities to excavations and fund the arts and music, all that good shit.” Lisbeth nodded for validation.

“What I want is something more modern, something that sells. Video games are exploding into the mainstream biz, there’s tournaments for crying out loud, kids are literally making bank off this when you and I grew up being told it was a waste of damn time.”

Samara had to admit that much was true.

“Wait. You want…to help fund Ruminate? Into a real console game?” Charlie inquired.

Jared leaned over to his assistant. “Now he’s catching on.”

“You’re kidding.” Samara said blankly.

“I may be a rich jerk but I don’t joke when it comes to making money. Not like I need to make more, but I don’t see the vineyard lasting much longer, if I’m gonna be frank. My dad, that’s his whole life, that’s why I’m wanting the MEQ. For him. That’s not my thing. I’m keeping my head above water while I’ve got the opportunity. And I foresee some good things, if you want to pursue that old dream.”

It was those final words that made Charlie take his seat for fear his knees would buckle out from under him.

The room fell silent. A heavy, palpable silence that rested on the shoulders of Samara Young.
……………………………..

Chapter Text

Returning to L.A. was a different experience, with carrying the weight of a done deal for the company to be proud of, as well as the proposal she was now faced with. Luckily, the offer did not require an immediate answer, which she couldn’t provide at the time. After concluding the meeting and contacting her father with the good news, Charlie inquired as to her state of mind.

She’d been unable to give a clear answer.

On the road she’d been lost in thought for many of the hours as Charlie drove, nibbling her thumb until he could no longer take it and reached over, plucking it from her teeth. She then sighed and glanced out the window with wanderlust in her eyes as her mind rattled off possible futures.

At a pit stop in Monterey Bay he pulled her into an embrace as they stared off at the view of the shore, just letting his hand aimlessly run through her hair in comfort. “I don’t envy the burden on your shoulders. But if I can alleviate even just a small part, I will.”

“Just having you with me helps.” She replied.

Now she found herself marching up to her father’s office, bracing herself for her own Boss Fight. The truth needed to come out.

He was seated at his desk, his wife’s portrait in a gilded frame behind him, her kind eyes peering down at her as if to encourage her resolve. The morning light shining in through the window belayed the ominous feeling brewing within her gut. The room was filled with cheer and warmth, but it offered little comfort.

“Ah pumpkin, I’m so glad that your trip went without a hitch. No problems on the road with anything?”

She took a seat, setting the briefcase on the floor, against the leg of her chair. “No, the drive went smoothly. I told you that Charles could handle it.”

“So it would seem. I suppose I have to tip my cap to your steadfast belief in his abilities. How was Marino?"

She inhaled, shoulders shifting upwards. “He gave a bad first impression to be honest, but then switched it around pretty quick. And then he had these moments…” she trailed off, unable to put the man into words. “He’s a character for sure.” She concluded.

“Not too much to handle? I heard he’s a handsy fellow.”

“Ahhh, well he did escort me around by the arm, but he wasn’t inappropriate if that’s what you mean.”

Samuel interlocked his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, eyes set hard as he imagined just how Jared Marino handled his daughter. “And how did your bodyguard react to that?”

Samara jerked back. “Bodyguard?”

“I had a little conversation with Jones before you left.” He explained. “I told him your well-being was in his hands. If anything was to happen to you, regardless of its nature, I was to be informed of it, and he was to act accordingly. Since I received no such messages, I assume all went well.”

“It did.” She answered, curious as to where this was going.

“He’s taken to that task quite diligently, hasn’t he?” Samuel added in an offhand manner, bringing his hands down and flicking away some imagined speck of dust off the desktop. “Bringing you groceries after you broke your hand…carrying you to his office when you had that attack…made sure he got his license in time to drive you all the way to San Fran and back…one could say he’s exceptionally devoted.”

‘Oh God….he knows…..’

“He’d make an excellent General Manager around here, wouldn’t you say?” the man said with a twinkle in his eye.

“General Manager…Dad, that’s my job…” she slowly uttered, trying to not let realization of what he was saying show on her face.

Samuel smiled at his pride and joy. “Not for much longer.”
……………………………

Sam sat at her desk in a bit of a daze, her father’s words rolling over and over again in her mind. He hadn’t given a specific date, but it was apparent that he had given it plenty of thought while she had been away and her securing the deal with Marino had solidified that decision. All that now needed to happen was the actual signing over and the ceremony that went with announcing a new CEO to the media and it was finally hers.

‘I’ve suddenly got everything I ever wanted…’ she realized, feeling overwhelmed.

Ruminate’s ratings on Indigineer skyrocketed with an unprecedented influx that had never been seen with a game granted such a low review at first. Those who had talked trash about it in the beginning had eaten crow when they finally set their ego aside and played it. People were messaging Sam’s account nonstop, asking for a sequel, for a player’s handbook, for the meaning to certain things they were sure were Easter Eggs.

The managers of the site had even contacted her, offering their congratulations for her game’s sudden revival, along with the thin apology of it ever being allowed its tanked rating in the first place. They promised to look into fixing that situation to prevent it happening again. It was the least they could do. Developers had made little inquiries to her, asking if she had future projects in mind.

‘Maybe Jared has a point…I could continue Ruminate and that one little app I had started on a few years ago….Once I’m CEO I can make those decisions, and then I’ll have financial backing and an awaiting fanbase for them when they’re ready…’

She tapped her fingers to her chin, recalling more memories to the front of the line. Things with Charlie had only had become rocky when she was being stubborn, and they had finally come to the middle ground of when it came to her health and/or injury, that she was to let him treat her. It had been a delicate subject, each dancing that thin line of control. But when he flat out declared that he loved her and taking care of her would be no burden, but just an example of what he could to show it, she relented.

‘I have a hard time saying ‘No’ to him…’ she mused, just imagining those bright blue eyes and how they touched her soul.

When they were together, it was if time rewound. Things that were new for him rekindled that old spark with her, and it vicariously became new for her again. Every conversation revealed something new, not just from him, but from herself as well. She was opening up that vault she had so tightly locked and abandoned, and he seem enchanted with the little tidbits he learned about her.

The meals they cooked for each other, with each other, had become a friendly rivalry. Each one trying to outdo the other, surprise the other, and learn the specific pallet for future reference. Course, there were some nights when they called it in, loafing on the couch with a movie or video game.

She smiled at the recollection when he brought over his travel disk booklet and flipped through page after page of games that he had, which in turn she got him to pull out and blow the dust off her consoles stored away in a closet. They hooked it up and started getting a feel for the controllers, going easy on each other for now.

“When my hand heals, you’re gonna be facing a real adversary.” She warned.

“I look forward to it. I want to battle the Boss at full power.” He joked.

The videos of her in the arcade had gone viral but she was not letting that fifteen minute of fame get to her. She had refrained from making too many comments, if any, about it, settling to post and pin the video link on her own social media accounts so people would stop messaging her and asking. Not that she was opposed to giving gaming advice to those trying to master a move or unlock something. It touched her to see the comments from little girls who were inspired to play games now, or from those who had an injury and were trying to regain use of their limb. That had been the worthwhile takeaway from the whole thing.

In some way, she felt she ought to thank Marshall for coming forward with the tag. She hadn’t been to Charlie’s apartment since breaking her hand on his sisters’ face. Perhaps they were overdo for a little friendly chat. Face-to-face.

Her thoughts were interrupted with a gentle knock and the creak of her door opening, Charlie filling in the empty space and smiling at her. “You look like you need an escape." He chuckled, coming in without closing the door behind him. A sure sign that they were still in business-mode. “Luckily for you, your father has told everyone they can go home early. We’re all caught up for the week and then some, so he’s granting a jump start to the weekend.”

“Really?” she shook her head as if it were a Magic 8 Ball that would reveal the answer. “Guess the guys really pulled through while we were away.”

“That they did. The Ellesmere Project is also complete, with no small effort on my part. Luckily Umed took over in my absence. So, are you in the middle of anything or are we in the clear?”

She smiled and turned her laptop around, showing him the blank screen. “To be honest, I haven’t been here at all today. Guess it was too much, trying to pull a full day after the long drive.”

“If anyone is in need of an early release, it would be you.” He pressed the laptop closed and offered his hand. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
……………………………

Behind the wheel, Charlie released a sigh that caught Samara’s attention. She peered at him as he focused on the road, wondering what was on his mind. She’d been so absorbed in her own inner maelstrom that she hadn’t considered Charlie might be going through one of his own.

“Babe? Something wrong?” she called to him.

“Why do you ask?”

“You just sighed. Again actually. I just noticed you look kinda tense.”

He cricked his neck and rolled his shoulders. “I’ve been more worried about you since we returned, and what your father had to say this morning. It’s honestly not like him to let us out at 2pm.”

She wasn’t yet ready to discuss what her father said. It was too big to just mention offhandedly in a car ride home.

“I wanna go to your place.” She stated abruptly.

“Oh?” he replied, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Want to give the neighbors something to talk about?”

“Actually, I want to talk with Marshall.”

He pulled to a stop at the red light. “Should I be concerned?”

She reached over and patted his thigh reassuringly. “Not at all. There’s just something I’d like to say to him.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Ok, what’s that sound for?”

“I’ve been thinking…” he answered slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I think it’s time I had a word with your brother.”

“Are you ill?” she exclaimed, touching his face to check for a fever. “Cause that’s crazy talk.”

“No Samara, after Marino pulled up that video it’s dawned on me that anyone by now could’ve brought this to your father, after all, you go by Sam in most cases, which could just as easily be confused with Samuel Young Sr. or heaven forbid, your brother. I think it would better on our part to present the news than have them find out from another source.”

“You’re still riled up from that meet, aren’t you?”

He gripped the steering wheel. “He had us pegged before we even entered the building. He presented himself as a pompous ass to me the things he said when you left had me wanting to toss him over the balcony. I do not take fondly for being played for a fool.”

“His assistant told me that’s how he works. Divide and conquer. He felt us out and when all else failed he pulled his trump card. But Charles, shouldn’t the takeaway from that be he loved Ruminate and wants to fund future endeavors?”

“That would mean we’d be seeing him on a regular occurrence.” He replied bitterly with a twitch in his eye. “And I’d rather the next client meeting we have to not even leave a window of opportunity for one of those creeps to do more than shake your hand.”

She regarded him with furrowed brows. “What…you want everyone to know?” She turned her head to the passenger window, realizing he was making a detour. “Just how do you expect that to do that?....You’re not suggesting…?”

“I’m not asking for that. Not yet anyways.”

She jerked her head back to him, flabbergasted at his casual hinting of their future and the possible outcome he wanted it to have. What freaking audacity. Just like the audacity he had to pull into the clinic parking lot and give her a challenging gleam in his eye.

“You are crazy. On a Friday afternoon? Right now?”

“Best to strike while the iron is hot.”

“At least you’re in the right place after he throttles you senseless.” She quipped, biting her lip.

“You don’t think I can stand my own against him?”

She took his hand and implored him with those bright doe eyes. “I know you can. That doesn’t mean you should.” She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Please Charles, you don’t have anything to prove to me.”

“This isn’t for you. This is for US. If I’m going to have a future with you, then I need to prove myself to your family. I have to enter the Boss Fight.”

She squeezed his hand. No amount of pleading was going to deter him, now that he was determined. Had he not already faced Link? Benjamin? Fred? This was his quest to complete. The only thing she could was support him like the mage she was. She nodded, signaling that she was ready to take this path with him.

At the receptionist desk, Charlie asked to see Dr. Hadar, claiming it was related to his previous visit regarding his hand. Upon checking the computer and bringing up his record, she nodded and paged her. Ruth came out a moment later, the surprise evident on her face to see her SIL to be and the secret boyfriend. She ushered them into an examination room without bumping into Jay and quickly closed the door behind her.

“Ok, don’t tell me you’re already pregnant.” She said, eyes beaming with excitement at the idea.

“What?” Sam nearly shrieked. “No…that’s not why we’re here.” She waved her hands nervously, Charlie red and silent.

“Oh. Alright then, what’s the special occasion?” She cocked her head and crossed her arms, gauging something of significance in the air.

Sam nudged Charlie. “Someone wants to talk to my brother…”

Ruth’s eyes enlarged, lips puckered tightly as her crossed arms fell from their place in shock. “I should get some ice packs…” she muttered to herself once she regained composure. “One of the two of you are gonna need them.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and threw a hand in the air. Oh come on!

Ruth let out a heavy breath. “Ok, let me go get him.”

Sam squeezed Charlie’s hand as she exited the room.

“You should probably go. I don’t want you caught up in the middle of whatever happens.” He said, patting her hand gently. “Please.”

“No. I’m here with you on this.”

“Samara, we can face your father together, but your brother, I need to do this alone.”

She didn’t get a chance to respond to that as she heard the door click, at the same time Charlie slipped his hand out of her grasp. She pierced him with wounded eyes as Ruth stepped in, followed by the giant frame of her brother, whose face went from a pleasant surprise to an instant furrowed brow upon seeing who was with her.

“Back again?” he curtly stated with crossed arms. “Another injury?”

“Sam, let’s give them a moment.” Ruth said, motioning for her to come with her. Sam let one last puppy dog eyed glance at either party, but they refused to give in. With a heavy exhale, she met her brother’s fiancé and let her be ushered out of the room.

Jay eyed Charlie with as much warmth as one would a wasp. “This better be important. I’ve got a 3 o’clock coming up.”

Straightening his spine, facing Jay coolly and collected, Charlie began the Boss Fight.

“You don’t trust me, not one bit, do you?” he inquired.

“Pretty sure I made that clear, or do you need another body check?”

“It’s pretty unfair to judge someone so harshly, whom you don’t even know. I’d like for us to overcome that.”

Jay scoffed. “Is that what this is about? Why are you really here?”

Charlie swallowed, choosing his next words carefully. “I’m in love with Samara.”

The dark eyes narrowed, the hands clenched into tight balls. “No.” he said flatly.

“It’s not up to you to decide who loves whom. Your sister and I have become a couple with your mother’s approval already given.”

Jay stormed up to the blond with three heavy steps, stopping short just a few inches, enough to point his finger in his face. “You sneaky bastard, thinking you can charm your way into my family? Your little game isn’t fooling me. You’re her goddamn assistant, nothing else. Call it off and you get to leave with your knees intact.”

His blue eyes threw daggers as he regarded the physician. “Does your sister’s happiness mean little compared to your pride? I make her happy; I have found a joy unlike any other being with her. I have sworn myself to love her and only her.”

“You come into my establishment thinking you can dictate to me what you’re going to do with my little sister? Just who do you think you even are? You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I know everything that happened between her and Benjamin. I’ve been there for her tears, for her attacks, for her breakdowns. And she has been there every time I felt I wasn’t worth the time of day.” He took a breath. “Jay, I want you to know that there is no one on this earth that will fight to keep her safe and cherished as much as I. I’ll never hurt her.”

Jay shook his head, lips trembling as he tried to find anything to say to convince this Welsh whelp to turn tail and leave with his dignity still intact, but he knew a sincere declaration when he heard it. After all, had he not have to convince Ruth’s family that he wasn’t going to break her heart and earn their acceptance? Now here he was, faced with his own knight falling upon his sword for the sake of his sister’s happiness.

“All I want is her to be happy.” He said, mouth running dry. “You dare…you do anything…” he pointed with an angrily curled finger. “…if she calls me in tears because of you….” He wavered, his resolve starting to crumble as he tried to verbalize his rampant emotions to no avail.

“My head will be on a platter, ready to mount on your wall.” Charlie finished for him.

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends.” Jay clarified quickly. “This just means I acknowledge what you’ve told me and I’m letting you live. For her sake.”

The door cracked open, Ruth unabashedly letting it swing without regard as she stormed in towards her gigantic boyfriend and pulling the lapel of his lab coat, forcing him to bend down to her level. “Samuel Jaymes Young Jr. you put your ego aside for just one moment and take the time to consider the fact that Charlie had the gumption to come face your hulking butt after what you did to him at Sam’s place and risk having you do that to him again by confessing his love-his honest to god love-for Sam and stand there while you talk down to him like a dog!”

The walls echoed in the heavy lull as everyone stood in silence, her words resonating like the wrath of god himself against the walls and down the hall for anyone and everyone to hear. Sam hung back by the door, head poking out into the hall as several people suddenly stopped and perked their ear at what they just heard.

“Oh god….” She groaned.

“Are you gonna really stand there and dismiss everything he just said still threaten him?” Ruth continued. Sam quickly shut the door to prevent more of the tirade to be overheard.

“But Bunny…” he protested, cut off again as she spoke over him.

“Don’t you ‘Bunny’ me Dr. Young. You should be honored that Charlie even considers your opinion worthy of his attention to even come forward like he has. If you hadn’t been such a jerk a few weeks ago they wouldn’t have had to hide it for as long as they have!”

Charlie scooted around the couple and came up to Samara at the door, wrapping an arm around her as she leaned onto him, watching as the dwarven woman verbally dominated her barbarian counterpart. He refrained from letting his amusement show, but he guaranteed he’d be laughing about this later.
………………………..

Pulling up to his apartment, Charlie released a pent up breath that he’d been holding for most of the drive from the clinic. He and Samara had ridden in mostly stunned silence, breaking it with a comment or two but falling back into the quiet lull. They spent a moment, once the car was parked, just sitting in their seats and decompressing from the stressful event.

“I say that went better than I anticipated.” He said in a satisfied tone, reaching for the door latch.

She shook her head, still in disbelief over the ordeal when he came around and opened her door. They were still driving her car today, since they went straight to her penthouse after the long drive back from the city and headed off to work the following morning. Given that it was Friday, she didn’t have to worry about not having a spare outfit packed, anything of her boyfriend’s wardrobe was up for grabs.

He took hold of her left hand as they walked up the stairs to his apartment, he having to slow his usual pace so he wouldn’t end up dragging her every few steps. Oh the troubles of being so tall…

His opening of the door startled Bowser, who may not know how to tell time but definitely knew it was too early for daddy to arrive and went into Protect Mode, charging the door with a fierce bark and haunches raised until he realized who it was, then in a split second turned into a happy pupper full of butt wiggles and excited yips.

“I may not speak Dog but I’m sure that translates to ‘oh, you’re home early!’” Samara joked as Bowser danced around their legs. “I’ll go see if Marshall is up while you take him for a walk.”

“Wait.” Charlie caught her arm as she started to walk past him. “You don’t want me to go with you?”

She glanced down at his hand, then back up at him in a look he read all too well and immediately let go of her arm. “Sorry.” He said.

“Charles, I’m just gonna have a word. It’s nothing I need a bodyguard for.”

“You’re right.” He conceded. “I’m overstepping my bounds.” He leaned in and gave her a quick peck to her forehead. “I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”

A moment later he and Bowser were bounding down the stairs to take care of some doggy business, Sam following them with a smile on her face. She mentally shook herself from her reverie and promptly rapped her knuckles across the apartment door of her ex-husband.

“Hold on!” came a call from within, followed by some fumbling and a possible toe-stubbing that left him swearing for a second before the door was yanked open, revealing a half-naked, messy haired, stubble chin Marshall rubbing his eye as if just awakened from a nap. “What the shit?” he exclaimed upon the appearance of her standing in the hallway, still in business attire and the medical brace on her right arm.

“Oh.” She murmured, seeing his toned abs and hairy pectorals, and the happy trail leading down….

His arms immediately crossed over himself. “Let me get a shirt.” He said, turning tail to go grab the nearest one without even closing the door. Sam pinched her lips together tightly and adverted her eyes as he regained his modesty in some measure.

“I’m sorry if this is a bad time…” she called out to him.

“No it’s alright. It’s the medication I take, makes me drowsy.” He answered, running his hands through his hair to smooth it back. “Which is why I dose in the afternoon. So, uh, what brings you here?”

Still standing in the doorway, she was apprehensive about just entering. “May I come in?”

“Course, dude, where the fuck are my manners?” he motioned her in and started clearing a spot on the couch, shoving clothing and other bits of things aside. She closed the door behind her and entered tentatively, taking in the surroundings of the prolific gamer. “Charlie joining us too?”

“No actually, I just wanted to speak with you.” She replied, taking a cushion as he plopped down on the other side of the couch.

“Oh boy, sounds like I’m in trouble…” he laughed.

“Well…I have something to say, in two parts. Firstly, yes, you tagging me in that video could’ve landed me in some serious hot water. Charles and I haven’t come forward with our relationship yet, and you nearly outed us.”

“Oh damn, I had no idea. Why do you need to keep it on the down-low?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why do you think? Ever since you…I’ve had to hide everything I’ve done with my life. Dad just couldn’t handle it.”

Guilt was evident on his face. “So… uh….what’s the second thing?”

“I had a client meeting in San Francisco this week. And the man I met with is Jared Marino. After the whole dog and pony show he pulled up the video and said because of your high praise for me, he had to go check out Ruminate for himself.”

“No shit. Really?”

She nodded. “He liked it. He liked it so much he wants to fund me if I decide to turn it into an actual console game.”

“Oh my god, Sam, that’s amazing. Like, wow. You have the chance to make your dream come true!”

She smiled. “Better late than never I guess. I’ve been walking on clouds since; pinching myself to make sure it’s real. He had me going for a moment, I thought he was gonna try to blackmail my relationship with Charles to get a lower price on the program we were offering. But my god, he pulled a rabbit out of his hat at the end.”

“So? You gonna do it?” he perked up, eyes bright with enthusiasm.

His energy was infectious, gleaming with childlike joy. She brought her hands up; interlocking what fingers she could and rested her elbows on her knees. Inhaling slowly, she considered her next words carefully. “What I’m about to say…I haven’t told anyone. Not even Charles.”

He scooted up a couple inches, rapt with attention.

“Dad said it’s soon.” She uttered in a near whisper.

For a moment, he didn’t know what she meant. Soon? Was he gonna die?

“He’s gonna make me the next CEO.” She clarified, turning her head to face Marshall. “And when it’s mine, I want to create a new branch for a game developing division. And we can start turning Ruminate into a console game. Heck, I can even continue with Evermake, you remember that little phone app I started way back?”

The memory it conjured brought a smile to his face. “Yeah, I remember the little stick figures you drew…really cute. Man, I’d forgotten all about that one. You never finished it?”

She shook her head. “After our…split…I had a long road of recovery ahead of me…and I coped by throwing everything I had into working the family business. I put everything aside that reminded me of you away. Looking back now, I see it wasn’t exactly the best course of action…but in doing so…it allowed Charles into my life. And with him, I’ve begun to remember who I used to be.”

A heavy silence passed between them, hanging in the air like a foul stench. It was acknowledged but not pleasant to endure.

“You look happy.” He said, flicking his tongue across the roof of his mouth. “It’s like, you have this glow to you.”

She smirked. If one more person mentioned ‘glowing’ or ‘being pregnant’ she was going to freak. But hearing it still created that warmth in her chest nonetheless. She felt happy. Now it showed.

“If I create a gaming department, I want to hire you as a concept artist.”

His eyes widened. He blinked several times. It was as if he had a total system reboot.

Marshall.exe has stopped working. . . .

She waited for him to respond, but he was frozen. ‘Oh heck, I broke him…’

“Ben!” she hollered, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. It brought him back. “Hey, you alright?”

“Are…you…forreal?” he stuttered, placing a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart. The wrist monitor had begun flashing. “Don’t jerk me like that.”

“I’m serious.” She replied flatly. “You said…you w-wanted a second chance…I’m giving it to you.”

He was on his feet, pacing back and forth, hand to his forehead. “Whoa there, I mean the offer’s great for sure…but Sam…our past…We wouldn’t be able to work together…”

She pushed up from the cushion and reached out with her left hand, stopping his panicked dance before it triggered her anxiety. “We can. And it’s because I know you have the talent to draw anything. Even if I hated your guts I couldn’t lie about your skill.”

He halted. His dark watery puppy eyes implored her to continue.

“Before I present this idea I need to have a team ready to back me up. That’s why I’m coming to you. You’re the first person to hear this from me, and you’re not to breathe a word of it. If you refuse, then I’m going to have to put myself out there as in search of an artist, and then the news will leak. Plus I’ll have to negotiate with people I don’t know and I’d rather go to someone I can trust. I know you have binders full of things that didn’t make it into the final product. Just think, you can bring those characters and artifacts to life again! You have a chance to show the world just what you can do.”

A new silence followed her impassioned plea. Her hand still pressed against his chest, feeling that “broken heart” of his thunder like an exhausted rabbit after narrowly escaping the claws of a hawk. He brought his hand up and covered hers, sending a jolt through her. She immediately pulled it back, stepping backwards a couple steps, putting some distance between them.

“Sorry… I still get into people’s personal space…” she weakly excused the intimate contact.

“I love when you look like that.” He confessed. “When you get so passionate about something, you light up. It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.”

She brought her hand up to the back of her neck, feeling the hairs on end. “It’s strictly business.” She stated clearly.

“Of course Sam, I know you love him. I’m not gonna try to get in between that. Hell no, I’m not that kind of guy. I may be the idiot who cheated, but I don’t make the same mistake twice.” He tenderly rubbed the spot where her hand had been. “You just…brought back some old memories…I try to just remember the good times, it’s kinda hard, knowing it’s my fault…but they say time heals right?” he laughed weakly.

She nodded. “Time does.”

“Can I discuss this with Monica? If that’s ok?”

“Yeah.” She nodded again. “I should get going before he really starts to worry.”

“Considering you’re alone with your ex? Not too many guys would be cool with that. He’s got my number, if you want to get it from him. I’ve been his dog-sitter while you guys have your little weekend getaways.”

“I know. I told him I didn’t mind. He thought it might be an issue.”

“He’s considerate. I do like talking with him, maybe I say more than I should but he’s always been cool. Even when he threatened to beat my ass.”

She smirked a little, just imagining how that little scene played out. “At the time, if I had known about it, I would’ve said you deserved it. But things have a way of working out, don’t they?”

“I guess they do. Let me talk to Monica and I’ll get back with you. This is just too much to decide on my own.”

She gave him a firm nod and headed over to the door, feeling a burden lift off her shoulders. There had been so much that went unsaid for so many years, festering in the back of her mind like old leftovers pushed to the rear of a refrigerator and forgotten. Except it was never forgotten, and it grew into those bitter 3am thoughts that creeped out in moments of weakness.

Now, those moldy old leftovers had been cleaned out, nothing left to ponder on in doubt. It felt like unlocking an achievement.

She opened the door and was startled when Charlie was there, hand raised as if to knock, embarrassment and relief crossing his face at the same time. Chagrined, he put his hand down. “You’ve been twenty minutes, I was started to grow concerned.”

Oh wow had the time flown. It seemed like only a short handful of minutes.

“Sorry babe, we kinda ran off tangent.”

“Couldn’t keep her hands off me.” Marshall joked. “Don’t worry dude, she didn’t get far.”

Sam pressed a hand to Charlie’s chest and shot her ex a highly disapproving glare. “I’ll speak with you later.” She said as she pushed Charlie backwards and pulled the door closed after exiting. “God….I see his jokes haven’t changed much.” She muttered.

“I thought you’d only be around five minutes, if that.” Charlie started to explain. She noticed he had changed into his more casual clothing and undid his hair, probably in an effort to pass the time.

“I’m sorry Charles…I guess I had my own Boss Fight to do.”
………………………..

Dressed in nothing more than one of his shirts, Samara took a seat on the couch as Charlie came up to her with a mug of tea in each hand, setting them on the coffee table, the steam wafting from them filling the air with a sweet aroma and the unasked question looming on his lips. Bowser sat in her lap, content with the pets he was receiving from her. She took his hand and leaned into him when he sat beside her, making the habit of being on her left just so he could have her hand with his. Without prompting, she started telling Charlie what she and Marshall conversed about. He sat and nodded as she recounted the major points before turning to him and looking at him with serious eyes.

“Charles…Dad told me he’s turning the company over to me soon.”

“That’s wonderful!” he exclaimed, taking her hand with the both of his and kissing her knuckles. “I know it’s been your goal for years now.”

“And there’s something I want to do when it’s mine to control. I want to have a game developing division within YT, and our first project will be Ruminate, expanding and reformatting it for console distribution. And I asked Marshall if he would consider becoming my concept artist, bringing in all the original sketches he did back when we were in college. There’s so much left out of what we originally designed, and this is the chance to bring it back.”

“Wow.” Charlie replied, blinking slowly, letting everything she spilled in that exuberant breath settle in good and deep before saying anything else. When she was excited, she lit up brighter than a Christmas tree and pulled others in.

“So you’re going to take Marino’s offer…”

“Yes. I knew it, as soon as Dad told me this morning, I could make it all fall into place. But I have to contact some other old colleagues and get them on board before I go forward with making this public. This is why I had to ask him first, before saying anything to you.”

“Ahh.” He nodded. It made sense why the conversation ended up taking as long as it did, this is no little chat. It was a possible future career. “And you were worried I might react in the wrong way?"

“Considering that you just went up against my brother, I didn’t want that residual aggression to be aimed at him if he said or did anything. Plus I had to calm him down. The news came at quite a shock.”

“So you were trying to spare arousing any potential jealously from me.” He placed a kiss to the top of her head. “Fy Mrenhines.” He murmured.

“I know you don’t like other men being around me. Unfortunately, that’s not something I can avoid with work. Especially if they do more than shake my hand. Over time, you’ll get better at being able to handle that. Although, I do find it quite admirable that you feel the need to protect me from them.”

“Oh?” he gave her a sly smile.

“You still feel bad about not being able to stop that guy in the bar, don’t you?” she added, watching his eyes take a slightly dangerous glint at the memory, knowing she’d hit the nail on the head.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.” He replied. “It was completely uncalled for in the first place for the one to touch you, let alone the other hit you when you defended yourself. And I was helpless to do anything without causing further damage to myself. You didn’t hold it against me though, you never have.”

“Course not.” She leaned into him and rubbed his chest a little. “Just like with Marshall, I’m not going to let that one bad moment in the past define who is he for the rest of his life. I know that he has the skills to deliver whatever I ask for. You would be amazed at his work.”

“You’re kinder than most would be to their ex, and people have ended relationships for far less….I know.”

She tilted her head.

“I guess I never mentioned her before. Then again, the subject never came up.” He sighed and reached for his mug of tea, taking a long warm sip. “There was a girl I dated, in high school. She ended up breaking my heart. After her, I saw no point in trying. I just focused on my studies, threw myself into my grades and achievements.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Charles.” She reached up and cupped his jaw. “You don’t have to be ashamed of that.”

“I realize that now. But back then, I was constantly reminded of my failure with her.”

“What could you have possibly failed at? You’re polite, you clean up after yourself, you open doors…”

“She wanted something I wasn’t yet willing to give.... I was saving myself for marriage.”

Sam reeled back in shock, blinking several times as she searched his face for a hint of a smile that gave away the joke. However, none came. Words failed her. Too many questions wanted to pour out at once.

“I see I’ve thrown a wrench in the cogwheels.” He chuckled. “Look, I had the old fashioned notion of doing things ‘the right way’ and just making my mum and grandparents proud of me. I set this standard for myself to show I was bigger than my upbringing, that no one could look down on me again as being the bastard son of an unmarried woman. Because that is still a thing people snub their nose at in the old country, where the church practically dictates everyone’s life.”

“Oh I see.” She said, also reaching for her tea, holding it awkwardly with her right hand at first until he plucked it, she shifted her seated position and brought her left hand up to take it.

“When it came to you though…I found myself dreaming of you, thinking about you in every spare moment I wasn’t focused on work. The further I tried to run the closer you seemed to get, and you kept pulling me back right back to square one. And when I knew I was helplessly cornered, the only thing left to do was to come forward, reveal who I was.”

She traced a finger over the mug of tea. “I’m glad you didn’t give up. Just think of what I would’ve let myself become if I had kept going like I had been?”

“I never want to think of you continuing on like you had been. It’s bad enough now that I worry on the wrath I’ll be facing come Monday because I’m certain your brother will have called your father by now.”

Sam let out a vibrant laugh. “Oh please, you saw how Ruth had a hold of him? You can bet that she swore him to silence or he’ll be in a world of hurt.”

“She reminds me of my own mum.” He chuckled. “In size and stature. She’d have to yank on my collar too if she wanted me down to her level.”

“Oh she sounds adorable. Do you have a picture of the two of you together?”

“Ahhhh yeahhh.” He answered, wavering a bit, as if he was conflicted about it for some reason. He pulled out his phone, opening the gallery and into a saved folder of pictures, flicking back a ways. It wasn’t a picture he had ever wanted to share, but he’d already mentioned the girl…she might as well see her too…

He handed the phone to her, watching how large her eyes grew as she took in the trio in the photograph. He in the center, dressed in a fine vintage suit, the lovely short blonde woman beaming with motherly pride, and a pretty girl with long dark hair on the other side.

“She’s precious.” Sam smiled, zooming in. “I’m guessing the girl here…is the heart breaker?”

He nodded.

“Why do you keep this picture?”

“You see what I’m wearing?”

“Yeah.”

“That was my grandfather’s. That was also the only time I ever wore it, and this is the only picture I have left. The rest were deleted, just being of her and I together. I couldn’t delete that smile on Mum’s face. Whenever I look at this, I barely see Gwen anymore. I just see my happy mother and myself. I thought about cropping it, but it just wouldn’t look right. She’s just window dressing now.”

Window dressing…

She handed the phone back to him. “Would you send me that?” she asked. “Maybe I can work a little magic of my own.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” She affirmed with a nod. “Just like you didn’t have to dispose of the ring like I asked. She’s your ring you’re holding onto and can’t bring yourself to be rid of. So let me do it.”

Gazing at her with nothing less that total admiration, he smiled and leaned in for a little kiss. “How can I say no?”
……………………………

SATURDAY MORNING:

“Are you sure you want to go?”

“I’m not avoiding the Grind any longer. Link is just gonna have to get over it.” She stated, looking at her reflection in the full length mirror in his bedroom. They’d managed to find a pair of his jeans that weren’t too long and wrapped a belt around to keep it in place. Topping it with one of his V neck shirts that hung down past her hips she looked absolutely adorable.

She still had her flats from work as her only footwear, but they paired nicely with the casual aesthetic she was displaying. He came up behind her and gathered her hair, securing it with the elastic hair band she pulled from her purse and tried desperately to wrap her hair into without success.

“Remember, I’m your Right-hand Man…” he teased as he pulled wispy flyaways to release the tension.

Today they planned to attend an Eva-free fencing match, but Sam was insistent on getting her brew fix before venturing out to face whatever life was going to throw her way. Off to the Grind before the daily quest! she had cried with an enthusiastic jump as Charlie took Bowser over to the neighbors. She gathered her purse and checked her phone for battery life and messages, finding one from her newest contact. Charlie had been acquiescing in giving the former couple each other’s phone numbers, as odd as it was.

ML: If I can bring Monica in to consult with colors and patterns, I’ll do it.

She mulled it over. Honestly, Monica was great in that field, and it would provide a stronger sense of trust if she was there. For Charlie as well. She knew he was still finding his way through all of this.

SY: consider it a deal. I’ll have to work at calling you Marshall in person, but otherwise I think we can do this.

Charlie returned, key in the lock and waiting as she finished her text. She stuffed the phone back in and slung it across her chest, then took his offered hand as he escorted her down the stairs. It was an unnecessary drive, after all, he walked from his apartment to the shop daily to catch the bus, but seeing it was merely a pit stop it was a necessity.

She marched right in like she owned the place, heading straight to the counter to where Link was wiping down the espresso machine, prepared for any attitude he would throw at her. He turned around and smiled, that familiar happy gleam in his eye like he’d seen an old friend-which he had… It threw her off for a second but she welcomed it.

“Hey Sam, what can I getcha today? Heard you like that new brew of Dee’s.” he greeted Charlie with a wave as he came up behind her. “Same goes for you?”

Sam and Charlie exchanged a curious look between each other as Link went ahead and started the order, Sam uttering a small “yeah” out of sheer overwhelming shock.

“Well, well, well, look who’s still rocking the hot & nerdy style?” a familiar sultry voice twinged with authority uttered, causing Sam’s head to jerk to the left.

A moment later she felt herself lifted into the air and squeezed (with restraint) as flowing red hair swished against her face. There was only one girl in the world who hugged like this.

“Angela! Hey!” she cried ecstatically. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

Link slid the cups over to Charlie. “I filled your three-fourths of the way, left it black so you can add whatever you like. That ok?”

“Quite.” Charlie responded, sensing this drastic change in Lincoln might have something to do with the arrival of the ginger currently enveloping his girlfriend a long overdue hug, seeing as how the man’s sapphire eyes were now fixed on them.

“So that is the Angela O’Neill I’ve heard so much about.” He mused, taking in the built physique of the woman. She had well defined muscle structure in her arms, bare in her sleeveless top. The yoga leggings hid nothing in regards to her glutes either. Even if he had not been informed of her martial arts competition, he knew that she was a woman who could handle her own.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Link casually agreed. Charlie kept his opinion to himself, just pleased to see the man finally smile genuinely for once.

After a little chatter, the fiery lass turned her attention to the Welsh, causing him to freeze in his tracks. He was well acquainted with Irish tempers. She stepped up to him, eyeing him up and down with scrutiny. “You treating my princess ok?”

Princess?

Oh yes, the White Knight….

Charlie smiled at the fierce protector. No doubt she would’ve been the first choice Mr. Young would’ve had to guard his daughter if she had been available. The bond of their friendship was by far deeper and stronger than the one he shared with Samara, and would never compare in the same aspect. He had to remember he was the new arrival; he was the one being tested of his worth.

“Miss O’Neill, your princess has a few anger issues and what’s that term, ‘throws hands’ like a crazed inmate. So yes, things are fantastic.”

Samara covered her mouth with her left hand as Angela took a moment before breaking into a wide grin of her own. “I like this one. He’s got a sense of humor.” She looked back at her little brunette buddy. “Yeah, this little firecracker has been throwing hands lately, hasn’t she?”

“In spectacular fashion.” Charlie beamed with pride, handing his Mrenhines her magical elixir they had quested for.

…………………………….

MONDAY:

Having returned to her place Sunday evening, saying her goodbye to Charlie for the night and awakening to her mother’s arrival, Samara sat in the passenger seat and switched off the radio.

“Something bothering you?”

She released a breath. “Ruth tell you what happened on Friday?” she asked. Her mother nodded. “And you didn’t message me at all about it?”

“No, I figured I’d give the two of you some privacy. I did have a little talk with him of my own. Took a bit for him to understand that all the two of you wanted was to not have to hide it, regardless of his approval. And that it was up to the two of you when you decide to tell your father. Are you doing that today?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re worried.”

“Naturally.”

“Don’t be. He already knows you’re secretly seeing someone.”

“What?” she cried in alarm.

“I may have let it slip, just the prospect, that you were seeing someone and that he just needed to accept it. It was a way to break it to him gently, so he won’t be too overwhelmed once you come forward. You’re welcome.”

Sam facepalmed. “Oh god.”

Samantha merely chuckled to herself as she continued the drive, pulling into the parking lot and dropping her daughter off in their usual routine. Honestly, if someone had said she’d ever be thankful for her little girl breaking her hand she’d have laughed in their face. But the few weeks had been an experience like none other in their lives, a rare moment for them to make up for years of distance and forge a bond stronger than ever.

“Just let me know if you’ll need a ride home.” She called to her as she made her way to the elevator. Sam signaled her with a wave and nod as she caught the door where Rosewood was waiting within.

“Hey Diana.” Sam greeted as she huffed just a bit, coming into her usual corner of the steel enclosure.

“Miss Young.” She acknowledged. “What happened to your hand?”

“Oh this?” she laughed, already so used to all the inquiries by now. She flicked her eyes at the buxom redhead and exuded a feral gleam in her eye. “I took care of someone who thought they could take what was mine.”

She let the woman mull over what that could entail as the doors parted and she made her exit with her head held high.

She strolled up to Lucy at her desk with a confident smile and her shoulders squared. “Lucy, you are the greatest receptionist on earth.” She beamed, leaving the redhead perplexed as she continued onwards to her office, practically buzzing with unbridled delight.

Lucy continued to sit in shock as Charlie arrived a short while later, greeting her as usual but stopping when he saw the lost look in her eye. “Everything alright Lucy?”

She snapped out of it and looked up at him. “Whatever it is you’re doing, keep it up. She’s practically walking on air.”

He looked around, no one else within ear shot. “I believe that ‘keeping it up’ is exactly what I’ve been doing.” He teased, watching Lucy’s face turn brighter than her hair for the first time he’d known her.

“Ohmygawd Charlie, you devil.” She giggled, shooing him away. The boy was going to give her a heart attack if he kept talking like that. She grabbed her nearby bottle of water and guzzled a few draughts and patted her cheeks. It was too early for this kind of banter.

He made his way into Samara’s office with his normal gentle knock an entered with her acknowledgement. She was seated, dressed in a rosy pink blouse with billowy sleeves, the right one rolled up. Her hair was pulled back, held with rose shaped clips on either side, a sure sign of her mother’s handiwork. She was as glorious as Persephone herself, the embodiment of Spring, her smile infectious and warming as the sun.

“You look lovely today.” He said, completely disregarding their prior rules, not that she cared either with how she returned his compliment with that blush darting across her nose.

“Flattering your boss won’t get you out of your daily exercise, Mr. Jones.”

“Oh it won’t? Guess I’ll have to try a new tactic.” He grinned. “But actually, making Lucy blush like I did this morning is something I can say I love about myself."

She cocked an eyebrow. “Hitting on the receptionist now? You cad.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? The ladies love me.” He joked.

“Well, let’s hope Dad loves you too. I’m bout to go in there and put our necks in the guillotine.” She sighed as she pushed away from the desk and came around to meet him.

“What a way to start a Monday…but if anyone’s neck is on the chopping block, it is mine.”

“I’m not gonna let that happen Charles.” She declared. “Even if he fires you today, I’ll rehire you the moment he signs the papers over to me.”

The statement filled him with a buttery warmth, only reinforcing his love for her. Standing not only up for him, but beside him as well through turbulent times, whatever they may be. He realized that he didn’t always need to be the protector, sometimes, the princess saved the dragon.

But it was unlike anything they had expected, when Samuel came a’knocking on her office door and found the couple embraced in a tender hug.

“Ah pumpkin, I was hopi-” he started, then stopped when he saw the two, with Charlie’s hands on her hips, her hands cradling his elbows, and how close their faces were to each other. He cocked his neck, one eyebrow arched as he surveyed the young man holding his daughter, no signs of an asthma attack this time.

“Am I interrupting something?” the CEO inquired, one hand still on the knob of the door, the other holding a few sheets of paper.

The couple were slow to disengage, as if a quick movement would trigger the predatory parental response to attack, to protect. Samara’s eyes never left her fathers.

“So, it is Jones then….” He replied, nodding as if to finally confirm it to himself. “I’m not entirely surprised. Though I would’ve liked to be informed of it sooner.”

“Sir, I can exp-” Charlie started, but was silenced by the large man holding up a hand to call for a pause.

“Dad?”

Samuel began closing the distance across the room, approaching her with the papers held out for her to take. With wavering hands, she accepted the pack of papers.

“It’s a preliminary deal.” He stated. “Contracts we’ve had with clients that I’d like to remain, record of employment bonuses and raises, and what’s in the budget for any new changes you’d like to make. Go over and amend it, and then we’ll start the paperwork.”

“Just like that?” she asked, jaw slackened, wind blown out of her sails.

Samuel shrugged. “Unless there’s something I’ve overlooked, it should all be in there.” He replied.

“No Dad! I mean this! Us!” she gestured with a frantic hand, waving it between Charlie and herself.

He cast a glance at the assistant, then back to the manager of his company. “From what I can see, you two have become an excellent team. A team that will only be as strong as the trust you have for each other. And if my daughter has put her trust in you, then you a duty to never break it. A company is only as good as the heart of its CEO.”

A moment of silence followed the words, permeating the air around them. Samuel’s eyes kindly smiled at the pair as he left the tiny office, stopping at the door with a swell in his chest for his daughter’s happiness. It had been a long road, but she had finally found it.
…………………….

Chapter Text

A Few months Later...

“Ok, when you said you need a piece of furniture moved, I didn’t expect a freaking baby grand piano!” Marshall exclaimed upon seeing the magnificent instrument before him.

Link crossed his arms and chuckled. “What, too much for ya?” he cajoled.

Marshall turned to the bulky blond and let his Ego do the talking. “Ha! As if! It’s called Baby for a reason. I got this.”

Angela rolled her eyes at the comedic display of testosterone. “If you ladies don’t mind, we are on a tight schedule.” She clapped, getting their attention. She turned to Sam, who had been sick the past few days and thus had enough time to order and get the piano delivered as a surprise for Charlie. “Alright girlfriend, you point, we steer.”

When the delivery men initially brought the rare, Chippendale style, model M Steinway grand into the room she had selected, she was hit with another wave of nausea and excused herself while they arranged it in place. When she finally emerged from the bathroom and taken refuge in her bed for a quick rest, the men had quietly departed, with a note and a business card for her to call should the instrument need tuning or if she had complaints or comments to leave.

The only thing she frowned upon was the position of the massive thing, with the keys facing the window. But calling them seemed fickle; after all, they had worked quietly and diligently and let her rest in peace. The next logical thing to do was to call some strong, trustworthy friends and get them to turn it 180 degrees.

She had already pulled the bench away and closed the lid in preparation for when the trio arrived, Link and Angela together, and Marshall a short while later. Each friend took a selected corner and on the count of three, lifted it up a couple inches off the floor and began to move in a counterclockwise merry-go-round until Sam gave them the all clear.

A few more minuscule adjustments and it was perfect. She was about to retrieve the bench when Link stopped her and collected it himself. “Don’t exert yourself, you’re still recovering.” The brace had been given the go-ahead to be removed, and now that she had mobility in her wrist and fingers she was determined to get back into the swing of things.

“Not to mention, we don’t need you throwing up on that.” Angela pointed out.

Sam acquiesced without a word, almost pleased to not have to carry the wooden seat all the way back. It had been arduous enough the first go around.

“I don’t get it, you’re the one who’s sick, so why are you buying him a gift?” Marshall asked, popping his back and stretching. “Not to mention it being the largest freaking instrument there is. Did it have to be a piano?”

“He plays piano you nitwit.” Sam retorted, rolling her eyes. “You think I’d buy a $30,000 piano for the hell of it?”

He placed a hand over his heart and staggered backwards. “Nani da fuck?”

Link whistled. “Wow, that’s a significant gift…He moving in?”

“Actually,…it’s part of tonight’s surprise.” She smiled. “Thank you guys so much for doing this. I mean it.” She clasped her hands together in gratitude.

“Hey, anything for a friend. We got ya covered.” Angela replied, giving her gal pal a hug. “You need anything else, just call.”

Sam nodded.

“Guess this means I’m losing my favorite neighbor…” Marshall pouted playfully. “But that’s to be expected. So, you’ll be at office tomorrow?”

She shrugged. It had already been three days of this stomach flu and she wasn’t the only one out, Freddie had been taken ill as well, chalking it up to the New England clam chowder that was served on Monday. Since she had a bowl of it, she concluded it was culprit. After hugs from her three amigos she picked up her phone to check the time and knew she needed to hurry, there wasn’t much time before clock out, and she knew Charlie would be driving straight to her place to check on her. She went to the living room and opened the sliding glass door, letting Bowser back in and watching him do his hyper bounce against all the furniture before nestling inside the doggy bed under the stairs. He’d grown accustomed to visits here, claiming all he could reach as his.

At least today she was feeling better.

She checked the oven one last time, spooning the juices from the pan and drizzling it over the lamb for the thousandth time, as per Ms. Jones instructions before checking the potatoes. She had confided in the woman on a special meal to make for her son, and took to the task with vigor. It was going to be perfect tonight.
…………………………

Charlie released a sigh of relief at 5 o’clock, the strain of the entire week weighing on him growing by the day as both Samara and Freddie were out of commission and the responsibilities of running everything had fallen to him. He considered himself lucky that Mr. Young had been a phone call away to give him pointers on that first day. Even away in Hawaii, the man still offered his services, not entirely ready to let go of the reins completely. Being a consultant had its perks.

He bid farewell to Lucy and the others, rode the elevator in silence, ignoring the glance Diana Rosewood shot at him, and slid into the seat of his vehicle. His vehicle. He curled his fingers around the wheel, rolled his shoulders and popped his neck to release the tension. Today was had one giant facepalm after the next, dealing with typos in dealing contracts, impatient clients, and one temperamental printer. And then he’d be faced with a sick girlfriend and a hyperactive pup that would demand attention. At least when his head hit the pillow he’d be out like a light…

Head pressed against the wall of the elevator, he could only hope that Samara was on the upswing of recovery and had managed to forge for herself and Bowser for the day. He was loosening his tie and unbuttoning his jacket and vest by the time he reached the penthouse door, finding it unlocked to his alarm. He was certain it had been locked, unless she called for takeout…

“Samara?” he called, immediately greeted with the click-clacking of Bowsers’ doggy claws on the floor and happy yips, just as the aroma hit his nostrils. A scent familiar and lost in the recess of his mind, coming to the surface in a brilliant flash of memory, his mouth instantly watering.

No way…..

The briefcase hit the floor, his jacket discarded on the wall hook, his arms shifting out of his vest, draped on the edge of the railing as he followed the enticing scent down the hall and into the living room, glancing right, then left, finding her in the kitchen with an apron on, of all things, pulling the braised meat out of the oven for his eyes to water at the sight of.

O fy duw….

He immediately came up to assist, seeing her struggle with her still weakened right arm, catching the delectable meal before a disaster could happen. Her hair was sweaty and pulled into a little ponytail, but the color had returned to her cheeks. He pulled her into a hug the moment the pan was set on the stove top and the oven door shut.

“Bunty…for me?” his voice cracked, overwhelmed with emotion.

She chuckled, if he was going to get choked up over lamb, then what will he do when he sees the piano? She nestled into him and breathed in his scent, enveloped in his warm embrace.

“How’s your hand?” he inquired, pulling away from the contact to lift her hand and inspect it.

“I’m fine. Ruth says it looks good. I just gotta refrain from trying to do too much with it.”

He groaned, wrapping his arms around her. “Today was a wash.” He sighed and rocked her contently, her presence alone soothing his frayed nerves. “I’m beginning to see why you needed an assistant. I think I might have to put in a request for one of my own.”

She laughed. “Just as long as they’re not some petite brunette with glasses, I think I can handle that.”

He hefted her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hands lacing the back of his neck. “You’re all I need after a rough day at the office. I’ve missed you all week.”

“Golygus.” She whispered. “Mae gen i anrheg.”

His ears perked at the sound of Welsh on her lips, and how she had improved over the recent months. Every time he heard her practice it, thinking she was alone, he would smile to himself and beam with pride. It was a joy unlike any other. His mother’s reaction was priceless when he told her she was trying to learn it, having being fluent in French as well. It had been to her upmost surprise when she received a framed, printed copy of the edited picture, masterfully manipulated to erase a certain unwanted person, and return the focus to just mother and son.

“That girl is a keeper.” His mother stated. “You better marry her.”

Peering up at her face, his mood already elevated from the gloom. Whatever she had in store for him would be just a bonus. “Oh, my dear? There’s more than just this wonderful meal?”

She nodded. “Put me down, I think you’ll drop me when you see it.”

“I would never.” He declared, but still lowered her as she requested. He was surprised when she slipped his necktie off, then crooked her finger at him for him to lean down.

“Shouldn’t we wait until we’re upstairs for this?”

Smirking, she shook her head. “Nope. Your present is not in the bedroom…this time.” She secured the silken strip of cloth across his eyes and brought the ends to meet in the back, which he tied. She took hold of both his hands, leading him through the hallway and right at the stairs. He lifted one foot at a time, slowly taking the staircase with her walking backwards, guiding him.

“I do love when you’re spontaneous…” he said wearily, his movements slow and robotic as she led him along. “I am concerned though…”

She positioned him in the doorway of the room, then stepped in front of him, pulling out her phone. This moment was going to be epic. “Ok, you can undo the blindfold now.” She chirped, already bristling with excitement. She hit record.

He tilted his head low, undoing the necktie and letting it drape around his shoulders and lifted his head, his lips parted opened without a sound before a hand flew up to his mouth, bright blue eyes glistening as he took in the sight.

The masterpiece of curved chestnut wood, polished to a shine, with marbled grain artistically splayed stood in the sunlight of the oddly empty room Samara had, its brass pedals glinting, beckoning to be touched. His knees buckled; having him grasp at the door frame the longer his eyes beheld the beauty. He barely breathed, made no sound, but his entire body trembled in an overwhelming rush, cascading down his spine and in through his chest.

“I think I broke him…” she commented, watching him crumble into a puddle of silent joy. She decided this was the moment to end the recording; he was on the verge of tears. She didn’t want to embarrass him. “Honey?”

She set the phone on the baby grand and came up to him, kneeling down and taking his head in her hands. For the first time since setting eyes on the instrument, he was able to blink, each eye releasing a stream as he met Samara’s imploring eyes. He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight, until she let out a little cry.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright Charles, it’s alright.” She caressed his cheek, soothing him. “Are you okay?”

“You amaze me.” He whispered, out of breath as if he was suddenly the asthmatic one. They spent a moment seated on the floor, Charlie still reeling from the shock. He was barely able to form a sentence to articulate his gratitude. She was able to pull him to his feet, luring him closer to the magnanimous gift.

“Sit.” She commanded, pushing his tall frame onto the bench. “It’s yours. Play it.”

As if dazed in a dream, his hand shook as he reached for the keys, feathering his finger along the ivories as if caressing a holy relic. The first note resonated through the entire structure with clarity, echoing off every wall. Tears spilled from his eyes at the glorious sound. There was nothing more pure and natural than the real chords, the real wood, the real brass of a piano, no matter how well a digital programming could make his keyboard sound.

He turned and looked up at her, seeing her smiling with unbridled joy at how much he loved his gift. “You really do love me…” he said, as if it had been unclear until now.

She cocked her head, curious as to what he meant. “Of course I do.”

“Say it then.” His voice was a combination of an order and a plea.

Ever since their afternoon in the aquarium, she had not uttered the word. She had felt compelled, so many times, yet held back. After all, he had told her he’d wait for as long as she was comfortable, there was no obligation to say it in return. Not that she had ever left room for doubt, especially today.

“I know you do.” He continued in her silence. “I just want to finally hear it, with you being absolutely certain.”

She slid into his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around her to secure her in place. She nibbled her bottom lip, bringing her eyes up to meet his enchanting gaze. “I didn’t expect to get put on the spot like this…because there was one last thing I wanted to give you, and now it feels a little… awkward to say it…”

“Oh, there’s another gift? Bunty, it’s not even my birthday.”

“I know that. And I also know with it being on New Year’s Eve that you don’t get to celebrate it like most, so this is just an early gift. But the last thing…” she started to flush and turn her head aside. “I was going to suggest this after dinner, but you’ve kinda thrown a wrench in my plans.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want to wait until dinner?” he inquired, tracing a line along her jaw.

“If you can wait…a little longer, to hear what you want to hear.”

“Oh? They’re tied in together?”

She nodded. “Now play us a song on the piano man, play us a song tonight. Cuz’ we’re all in the mood for a melody, and you’ve got us feeling alright.” She teased in a singsong voice, watching a smile crest over his face.

“As you wish.” He replied. When she got to her feet, he pulled her back into his lap, except he swung one leg of hers on either side, so that she straddled him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his arms went to either side of her, strumming the keys in a spontaneous melody. Playing while having your arms around another person made it difficult to hit all the desired keys, but he made it work.

He pressed his lips to her neck when he hit the final key. “This day started out as rubbish, but you’ve miraculously turned it all around. How do you think you’re ever going to top this?”

She clung onto him as he got to his feet, carefully stepping away from the bench. He held onto her, unsure of where he wanted to go. “Charles…what about dinner? It’ll get cold.”

He groaned just a little. “Very well, I would not want that beautiful meal of yours to go to waste.” He nipped at her. “Just be prepared to be my dessert.”
………………………..

Sam collected their plates as Charlie sat in bliss, swirling his wine in the glass as she scrapped the lamb bones into a bowl for Bowser, who snatched one and ran off with it in the blink of an eye. Over and over again he had moaned and complimented the meal, and had almost been brought to tears a second time, knowing it was his mother’s recipe.

It had been her upmost pleasure, her joy to be able to do this for him. He had been taking on so much; she just had to let him know she appreciated everything he had thrown himself into. He’d stepped up so much in the office that he’d earned a credible amount of respect, not just from the staff, but from clients he had to personally deal with. The new gaming development department Sam had set up, with support from Marino was all abuzz with excitement, led mainly by Marshall (whose previous relationship with her remained discreet with Umed and the others) and pulled up sketchbook after sketchbook of character designs, artifacts, and armor. Monica had done some color rendering and even provided fabric swatches for approval.

Their presence was taken with a grain of salt at first, from Jasmine; Samara’s other artist on the original Ruminate who had done the CGI rendering. Convincing her that everything had been put behind them was the biggest challenge, and her attitude was still thawing. But she was loyal to her old college buddy and therefore took the job, but with her guard up.

Charlie did have to step in the other day when Marshall made some offhand remark and she flew into a fit over it, threatening to quit if he wasn’t going to take things seriously. Jacob was also in on the team and gave Charlie a hand in quelling the tempers.

“Oh my goodness.” Sam laughed as he regaled her with the drama. “You’ve become the Office Dad.”

He finished the last of his wine and snuck in behind her at the sink, reaching around her to set the glass in. His other hand was at her waist, thumb teasing the exposed skin above her pants line. “I’m ready for dessert my dear…” he whispered in her ear.

“I’m sure you are Charles.” She smirked, rinsing the dinnerware. “And I’m willing to oblige in just a moment. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll be there once I’m through?” With a peck on the cheek, he left her to finish the little task she set for herself and took the stairs two at a time, stopping short when he saw the piano in that first room.

The sight of it, even in the evening light, was still glorious. A true treasure. He couldn’t help but step back into the room and lightly caress the smooth wood. Reality had yet to set in….surely he was still dreaming and this entire day had been a nightmare that ended in the best dream of his life?

He jumped when Samara had snuck up behind him, her tiny hands coming around his waist. She had completely disarmed him earlier, and he had yet to recover. His hand covered hers as he lightly swayed with her embrace.

“Charles Rhysand Jones, I love you.” She said, leaning into his back. “And because I love you…I wanted to ask you something…”

He straightened his spine and turned around, bringing her hand up to his chest. “Anything. Yes.”

She released a little laugh that was part snort, part girlish giggle. “I haven’t even asked it yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you want.”

“Sit.” She implored, concerned he might faint with how many times she’d overwhelmed him today. He pulled out the bench and sat upon it, pleased at their new height difference, finding her even more enchanting from this new angle. She ran her fingers through his flaxen hair, reveling in the silken texture of it. “I want to wake up beside you every morning, fall asleep beside you every night and fill this once hollow home with your beautiful music…so what I’m asking is…Will you move in with me?”

The breath within his lungs escaped him, and now he was glad she suggested he sit. For a second, he was worried she was about to ask the one question that he’d been hoping one day he’d find the right moment to ask her, but this was a step closer to that goal. He pulled her into his embrace, his ear resting against her chest, feeling that rhythmic beating. Soothing as always, he felt himself melt within her arms.

She was his home. Anywhere they lived would just be the protection from the elements and place of rest. Wherever she was, his place was beside her. Of this, he was certain.

“Do you think I’m really going to say no?” he asked with a laugh. He’d been spending more and more time at her place as of late anyways, having a spare set of clothes to change into until it was laundry day. And with her being sick this week, he’d been waiting on her hand and foot before and after work.

“You might’ve felt it was too soon. After all, we each like our privacy-”

“Bunty, hush.” He admonished, running his hand along her back. “I couldn’t be happier that you’re ready to take that step with me.” He pulled her down just the few inches that separated them, his lips but a hair’s width away when she stopped him.

“I’m sick remember?”

“Makes no difference, I’ll have you, for sickness and in health.” And with that, he claimed her lips with his own, his hand at the back of her neck, pressing her into him as if he could swallow her whole, the two of them becoming one by osmosis, one entity. “One of these days, I’m going to swear that vow to you.”

She chuckled, her hands cradling his face as her hair fell and brushed against him. “Don’t you need me to say yes first?”

“I already know you will.” He answered smugly, his other hand sliding under her shirt and caressing the soft skin of her back. “You just don’t know when I’m going to ask.”
………………………