Comfort through Trials - Missing You
Archive: If you want it, take it. Just let me know where it's going.
Rating: R (language, sexual situation)
Author's Notes: Sequel to "Comfort through Trials - Holding On". This is
part of a series I am working on.
Disclaimer: They're not mine, I just borrow them to play with.
I'm the only one still awake, and I keep wondering if I ought to call the
White House. I start to reach for my cell phone only to realize that in
order to use it, I'll have to leave the room, and in order to leave the
room, I'll have to get my hand out of her grasp. Maybe Toby can wait. The
floor's a little cold, but the other chair looks even more uncomfortable,
and I'm certainly not moving furniture right now.
Donna moves in her chair, and I glance up anxiously to see if she's
awake. She's not. She and Lisa both look like they've been to hell and
back, and I imagine I must too. Dammit Josh! You're supposed to be the
one we turn to in times like this. Not vice versa. If I didn't know
better, I'd think you'd planned this just to get us in the same room, no,
let me correct that, in the same room and depending on each other. You
know, Josh, if you wanted to get us back together you could have just
told me why she hated DC all of a sudden. That look on your face when you
came to see me in New York.... I knew you knew. You knew why she never
wanted to come back, and you knew what you were asking of me. Why
couldn't you just tell me why?
She's moving now, slowly, achingly slow. "Sam?" It takes me a minute to
find my voice. Two years... It's only been two years and my name sounds
so strange on her tongue. "Yeah?" She looks at me sleepily, and she asks
me to take her home. My heart hits the roof of my mouth and my tongue
freezes, but I stand up stiffly from my place on the floor and offer a
hand to her. She rolls her eyes at the gallant gesture, but she accepts,
and I squeeze her hand a little tighter than necessary and pull her close
for a moment.
The ride in the taxi is silent, both of our thoughts still with Josh. My
cell phone rings. Fumbling with it, I try to sound more confidant than I
feel, but the last 18 hours have been rough. If the morning shows weren't
bad enough, all this waiting is killing us. I give Leo an update on Josh,
and then, just before I hang up, I tell him Lisa came to see him in the
hospital. Leo's quiet for a second, as if feeling the air to see if the
question is allowed. "Is she there Sam?" I nod, before realizing he can't
hear my head rattle, and murmur a brief yes before handing off the phone.
Her voice registers her surprise, and she calls him Mr. McGarry. Three
years she worked for him, and she still calls him Mr. McGarry, against
his will I'm sure, but she still does. I must have gotten lost in my
thoughts because now she's handing the phone back to me, and I tell Leo I
won't be in until late. I'll have to take Lisa to the hospital first.
We pull up outside my building, and I realize somewhere along the line,
it started to rain. I pull out my wallet to pay the driver, but Lisa
beats me to it. If I ever figure out how she does that.... but I've
learned it's never worth it to argue. I grab my briefcase, and her
overnight bag before she has a chance to protest. The trip up the stairs
seems shorter than usual and suddenly I'm standing outside my apartment,
and her hand's on my arm, and I'm starting to think it's a little hot out
I'm not sure what to do once we get inside, but Lisa glances around, and
comments that my decorating hasn't improved over the years. For a split
second, I picture my cozy little hole in the wall with her paintings and
that antique lamp we bought in SoHo. Shaking my head, I let my eyes
follow her for a moment, then I realize we're both soaked to the skin
from the rain. I'm still trying to be gallant, in whatever way she'll let
me, so I offer her the shower first. She accepts, and lifts her overnight
back off the floor under the coat rack.
I show her through the apartment on the way to my bedroom and usher her
through to my bathroom. Alright, I live in a closet. I jokingly tell her
that, and I'm rewarded when she laughs and admits her loft isn't much
better. She laughed. My head spins a bit as she shuts the bathroom door.
I sit in the edge of my bed and kick off my shoes. Then I peel off my
socks and jeans and change into dry boxers and a pair of sweats. Ditching
my tie and dress shirt, I gather it up and toss it into the laundry
hamper in the bottom of the closet.
I hear the shower running now, and I almost knock and ask if I can join
her. Bad Sam, I really shouldn't think about things like that. No matter
what happens, I know she doesn't want to be in this city, and I do.
Padding barefoot through the apartment, I start a pot of coffee. It's
been six hours since I've had coffee and I think I'm in withdrawal. The
smell fills the kitchen almost as soon as the coffee beans hit the water.
"Sam?" I nearly drop the mug in my hand. Spinning quickly, I see her
standing there. Her still wet hair has been pined up, forming a thick
chocolate colored crown around the back of her head, and her face looks
freshly scrubbed. She's beautiful, but that's not what makes my heart
thud in my chest. She's standing there, legs bare, wearing the dress
shirt I had left on the back of the bathroom door. Thud.
My mouth is dry, and I gulp the coffee in one swallow. "Lisa, you
look...... My, you haven't changed, well, uh, you have, and I....." I
drowning here. I have got to think of something else. What would Josh say
if he could see this? Oh, Josh. Right. Lisa must see the look that
crosses my face, because she steps around the counter and brushes her
hand against my cheek. I catch her wrist and kiss her open palm. Then all
thoughts of Josh vanish, because her arms are wrapped around my waist,
and her lips are touching mine. The friendly kiss we shared in the
hospital is nothing like this one. I think my skin is on fire, and I
certain there are fireworks exploding in the background. Gods Lisa, do
you know how much I've missed you? I mumble something incoherent and she
understands because she untangles our bodies and takes me by the hand.
Did my bedroom have to be on the other side of the apartment? I never
thought my apartment was so large until tonight. She leads me into my
bedroom, and I remember why I loved this woman, why I still do. I close
the door and lean up against it, hoping to barricade us from the outside
I run my hands down her arms and intertwine my fingers with hers. I feel
the sliver of cold metal and I freeze. Gathering her left hand in mine, I
raise it to my face and wonder how I could have missed it. The ring,
complete with the pretty diamond tells me exactly what kind of future I
have left with her, and she follows my eyes mournfully. "Warren, his name
is Warren. He's an associate at the firm and.... and he hates this life
you live." When I look in her eyes, I see tears there. Tears I put there.
She closes her eyes, shutting me out for a moment, and then she frees her
hand from mine and slips the ring from her hand. It hits the carpet
silently, and she meets my eyes. Confidant, she kisses me again, and I
don't know what this is about, old times, love, or just forgetting
everything, everything but this room, but I'm only too eager to give
myself over to her.
I reach for the small buttons on my dress shirt and two button later it
slides down to cling just over one shoulder. That shirt never looked as
good on me as it did on her. The phone. This is just not my day. She
steps back gracefully and I dive for my jacket digging my cell phone out
of the inner pocket. "Sam Seaborn." Why does CJ think she needs to check
up on me? I'm a big boy, I can tuck myself in bed just fine. Okay, so
maybe that's not true, and maybe the fact that yesterday I was shot at
and right now my best friend is at the hospital, but dammit, I don't want
to think about that right now, and she's not helping. Lisa smiles, and
slips beneath the covers of my bed. Just stop talking, CJ. I have other
things I'd like to do right now.
When I finally extricate myself from CJ's never ending phone call, Lisa's
fallen asleep. I'm not about to wake her up. She said she'd been in
California this morning, and that, coupled with the stress of the last 18
hours has to have drained her, because I know I'm dead on my feet right
now. My mind's racing, but my body's giving up the fight. Flipping off
the light switch, I crawl under the covers with her, and try not to feel
shocked when she sleepily wraps an arm around my waist and nestles her
head against my shoulder. The last time I slept like this with someone
was with her, before the campaign, and I'm not about to ruin it. Shifting
slowly, I settle into bed, and try to sleep.