holdouttrout

Just an archive post. Keep moving!

There were moments, under the mountain and billions of light years from home when she was full to bursting with the joy of accomplishment, or when she felt too broken to take the next breath, or when she simply couldn't imagine anything other than what she had--bruises and bumps and all.

But there was a part of her that she missed out there, part of her that wanted, fiercely and irrationally, and it was that part that drew her to Pete, made her keep saying yes when he asked to see her--next time he was in town, next week, tomorrow. It wasn't about the flowers, or the sex (although the sex was nice). When she was around him, she felt...carefree, at least for a while. She couldn't quite figure it out.

She watched him, carefully, over tiramisu and coffee, as they engaged in a careful battle of wills as to who would get the next bite. He was up to something.

"You should finish it," she said.

He smirked, capitulated. "That's alright, you can have it. I'm stuffed."

He was never too full for dessert. Her eyes narrowed. He grinned. She ate it, knowing full well he was up to something but unable to prove it.

Within seconds, it seemed, they were outside, Pete propelling her to the car, and then they were off, Sam wondering just how they'd ended up outside so fast and if Pete really thought letting her finish the tiramisu was going to get him laid tonight.

It wasn't.

"I thought cops were supposed to follow the laws," she said as they pulled up to her house.

But he was already around the car, opening her door, helping her out. She would never admit it, but the gesture felt--nice. She rolled her eyes as he offered his arm, but took it anyway. They walked to her door, and Sam was just about to unlock it, when Pete's hand closed over hers on the lock.

"I just wanted to say--Sam, I had a really nice time."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "Is that why you sped all the way back?"

To her surprise, he grinned again, more broadly than before, and kissed her. Nicely. She was rethinking her earlier decision not to let him in tonight when the door turned under her hand and swung open.

She broke away, looked inside her house and gaped. There were flowers everywhere, covering every surface, including the floor.

"Now, don't be mad--I had your neighbor let them in--and it's not your whole house--just the entryway--I just wanted to see your expression--"

Sam shut him up with another kiss, then dragged him inside, kicking over a few vases along the way. When she managed to shut the door, she turned around to see Pete shell-shocked, standing knee-deep in a riot of color, and she started laughing.

"You're going help me clean this up, you know," she gasped between laughs.

He hopped over a small vase of mostly daisies, which set her off again, made her lean against the door to support herself as she convulsed with a kind of mirth she'd forgotten.

He leaned into her, and she stopped laughing. "Tomorrow?"

She looked up at him, thinking that maybe the feeling had to do with flowers and silliness after all.

"Tomorrow," she agreed.

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