WIP: WW Untitled Sam/Josh fic
Jul. 28th, 2003 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereI was going to write tonight, but I've been distracted by setting up a new Melbourne Slashers mailing list. So, I've decided I might as well post what I got up to last night. (It works well as a way of keeping track of just how long ago I wrote the last bit, and how much I should write the next. It's LJ as motivation! *g*)
It's a bit... abrupt as a section, but I'll smooth it over later when I edit it.
***
Thursday
It was a quarter to five when Josh stuck his head around Sam's door with a friendly nod. "Hey."
Sam looked up over his glasses. "I thought you had meetings all day?"
Josh shrugged and walked further into the small office. "I did. Rickman cancelled."
"Leo's not going to be happy about that," Sam said with a thoughtful frown and placed his pen down on the desk.
"Donna rescheduled it for tomorrow." Sam raised an eyebrow, silently asking the obvious question. Josh smirked. "I checked with Leo. He said go ahead."
"So," Sam said slowly, "Your appointment for Big Block of Cheese Day is a meeting you would have had anyway?" Josh nodded and Sam continued. "That seems very… convenient."
"Nah. Just coincidental. I'm a very lucky man, Sam Seaborn." As far as Josh figured it, he was still owed some good karma for Roslyn, but between this and last night, Josh was will to waive the debt. Or most of it, at least. "Still working on the EPA reviews?"
"Ainsley brought over Tribbey's recommendations. I'm working on those." Josh made himself comfortable in one of Sam's chairs and Sam sent him a questioning look. "Don't you have work you could be doing?"
"There's always something I could be doing," Josh replied with a cheeky grin. "I just don't want to do it right now."
Sam shuffled some of the papers on his desk. "Well, I have work I need to do," he said sourly, reaching for his pen.
"Care to explain the bad mood?" Sam didn't reply. "I would have thought that after last night-"
"Josh!" Sam hissed at him, his cheeks tinged pink. Grinning, Josh got up and quietly closed the door. Leaning against the closed door, he turned back to Sam.
"Come on Sam. Talk to me."
Sam put down his pen, and intense blue eyes looked up at Josh. "What about?" Sam asked warily.
"How about the reason behind you pouncing last night?"
Dark brows rose. "Are you complaining?" There was something darker hiding under Sam's bemused look. "Because I could just not do that again."
"No." Josh couldn't have stopped the goofy smile if he tried. "I'm not complaining." He could feel the corners of his mouth stretching into the same happy grin that had greeted him in the mirror that morning. It was the same smug smile he saw beaming back at him every time he remembered why his back was sore and why he had bruises on his shoulders. "I just want to know what brought it on."
Sam shrugged, but didn't say a word.
"Or, we could maybe talk about why you've had a dozen calls from your father during the last two days." That got a reaction.
"It was seven." Sam visibly paled, and stared at the small pile of pink message slips sitting on his desk. "Not a dozen. How did you know?"
"Donna. She came in and asked if there was anything she ought to know. She was worried about you." Josh realised that might not have been the best way to phrase that. Running a hand over his head, he amended, "Well, I was worried too. Am worried. Jeez, Sam, just tell me already."
"There's nothing to worry about. It's no big deal." Sam didn't look fragile, so much as brittle. As if he was holding himself together, cracks and all, by will power alone.
"Then tell me about it," Josh said as he walked over and sat opposite Sam. "There's your two choices of conversation topics. Either talk about last night or talk about your family." Personally, Josh hoped Sam pick the former. Sam usually wasn't quite so abrupt, so impulsive, and it would be nice to know if that was Sam's version of one of r old times' sake. Or it this had more… promise to it.
Of course Sam picked the latter. "My Mom's filing for a divorce."
"What? You can't be serious. Your parents are…" He trailed off at the hurt look in Sam eyes. Your parents are so right for each other. That was what he was going to say, or maybe so in love with each other.
Josh knew that his own parents had loved each other soundly, but they had also argued and bickered. There had even been a few outright screaming matches just after Joanie was gone. They always made up, and compromised, but he could still remember the petty insults.
Sam's parents didn't do that. They didn't fight. They discussed problems and came to an agreement. Sam's father still bought flowers for his wife for no reason, still surprised her with little gifts and fancy dinners. They were the type of couple who always looked right together.
"How long…?" Josh wasn't sure how to do this, how to talk about parents breaking up, but he figured this gave him a place to start.
Sam swallowed, then said softly, "Twenty-eight years."
"They've been talking about getting a divorce for twenty-eight years?" That was unbelievable. Josh was sure that Sam would have mentioned it to him before now.
"No. The divorce is just… It's… They've…" Sam stopped, eyes wide, and took a deep shuddering breath. "He's had an apartment in Santa Monica… A woman in Santa Monica. For twenty-eight years."
"Oh, Sam." He leaned across the desk, and saw the photo half covered by papers. It must have been taken when Sam was in Princeton. His father stood squarely in a navy suit, while his mother laughed in a pale floral dress. Sam was standing between the two, a combination of both of them, with his father's wide jaw and black hair, with his mother's blue eyes and easy smile.
"It's not… I mean, I'm thirty-six, it's not exactly…" Sam's voice was choked with emotion. "It shouldn't be a thing."
"When did you find out?"
"Tuesday." Sam must have caught the reaction on his face. "That's not why I came over."
"It's okay, Sam." He forced himself to look up into Sam's guilty expression. "You don't have to justify yourself. It's okay."
Sam said earnestly, "It's not that, Josh. It had an effect, but it's not-"
Sam was interrupted but a swift rapping on his window, and Josh swivelled in his chair to see Donna standing there, gesturing at her watch. He shooed her away with a quick wave of his hand and waited until she left before he checked Sam's clock. He sighed as the clock confirmed Donna's worry. "I've gotta go. I'm about to be late for a meeting."
"Yeah," Sam said, nodding distractedly and turning back to his pad of paper.
"Are you okay?"
Sam's answering smile was tight. "I'll be fine."
Josh paused as he opened the door, "Are you working late tonight?"
"Probably," Sam said and looked up. "Why?"
"I've got meetings until nine thirty. Possibly later. Do you want me to check in if you're still around when I'm done?" Sam looked a bit surprised, and Josh added, "We could get a drink or something."
"No. I've really… I have to get this done." Sam sounded apologetic but determined. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, tomorrow," Josh said as Donna came up to him with the necessary files.
***
It's a bit... abrupt as a section, but I'll smooth it over later when I edit it.
***
Thursday
It was a quarter to five when Josh stuck his head around Sam's door with a friendly nod. "Hey."
Sam looked up over his glasses. "I thought you had meetings all day?"
Josh shrugged and walked further into the small office. "I did. Rickman cancelled."
"Leo's not going to be happy about that," Sam said with a thoughtful frown and placed his pen down on the desk.
"Donna rescheduled it for tomorrow." Sam raised an eyebrow, silently asking the obvious question. Josh smirked. "I checked with Leo. He said go ahead."
"So," Sam said slowly, "Your appointment for Big Block of Cheese Day is a meeting you would have had anyway?" Josh nodded and Sam continued. "That seems very… convenient."
"Nah. Just coincidental. I'm a very lucky man, Sam Seaborn." As far as Josh figured it, he was still owed some good karma for Roslyn, but between this and last night, Josh was will to waive the debt. Or most of it, at least. "Still working on the EPA reviews?"
"Ainsley brought over Tribbey's recommendations. I'm working on those." Josh made himself comfortable in one of Sam's chairs and Sam sent him a questioning look. "Don't you have work you could be doing?"
"There's always something I could be doing," Josh replied with a cheeky grin. "I just don't want to do it right now."
Sam shuffled some of the papers on his desk. "Well, I have work I need to do," he said sourly, reaching for his pen.
"Care to explain the bad mood?" Sam didn't reply. "I would have thought that after last night-"
"Josh!" Sam hissed at him, his cheeks tinged pink. Grinning, Josh got up and quietly closed the door. Leaning against the closed door, he turned back to Sam.
"Come on Sam. Talk to me."
Sam put down his pen, and intense blue eyes looked up at Josh. "What about?" Sam asked warily.
"How about the reason behind you pouncing last night?"
Dark brows rose. "Are you complaining?" There was something darker hiding under Sam's bemused look. "Because I could just not do that again."
"No." Josh couldn't have stopped the goofy smile if he tried. "I'm not complaining." He could feel the corners of his mouth stretching into the same happy grin that had greeted him in the mirror that morning. It was the same smug smile he saw beaming back at him every time he remembered why his back was sore and why he had bruises on his shoulders. "I just want to know what brought it on."
Sam shrugged, but didn't say a word.
"Or, we could maybe talk about why you've had a dozen calls from your father during the last two days." That got a reaction.
"It was seven." Sam visibly paled, and stared at the small pile of pink message slips sitting on his desk. "Not a dozen. How did you know?"
"Donna. She came in and asked if there was anything she ought to know. She was worried about you." Josh realised that might not have been the best way to phrase that. Running a hand over his head, he amended, "Well, I was worried too. Am worried. Jeez, Sam, just tell me already."
"There's nothing to worry about. It's no big deal." Sam didn't look fragile, so much as brittle. As if he was holding himself together, cracks and all, by will power alone.
"Then tell me about it," Josh said as he walked over and sat opposite Sam. "There's your two choices of conversation topics. Either talk about last night or talk about your family." Personally, Josh hoped Sam pick the former. Sam usually wasn't quite so abrupt, so impulsive, and it would be nice to know if that was Sam's version of one of r old times' sake. Or it this had more… promise to it.
Of course Sam picked the latter. "My Mom's filing for a divorce."
"What? You can't be serious. Your parents are…" He trailed off at the hurt look in Sam eyes. Your parents are so right for each other. That was what he was going to say, or maybe so in love with each other.
Josh knew that his own parents had loved each other soundly, but they had also argued and bickered. There had even been a few outright screaming matches just after Joanie was gone. They always made up, and compromised, but he could still remember the petty insults.
Sam's parents didn't do that. They didn't fight. They discussed problems and came to an agreement. Sam's father still bought flowers for his wife for no reason, still surprised her with little gifts and fancy dinners. They were the type of couple who always looked right together.
"How long…?" Josh wasn't sure how to do this, how to talk about parents breaking up, but he figured this gave him a place to start.
Sam swallowed, then said softly, "Twenty-eight years."
"They've been talking about getting a divorce for twenty-eight years?" That was unbelievable. Josh was sure that Sam would have mentioned it to him before now.
"No. The divorce is just… It's… They've…" Sam stopped, eyes wide, and took a deep shuddering breath. "He's had an apartment in Santa Monica… A woman in Santa Monica. For twenty-eight years."
"Oh, Sam." He leaned across the desk, and saw the photo half covered by papers. It must have been taken when Sam was in Princeton. His father stood squarely in a navy suit, while his mother laughed in a pale floral dress. Sam was standing between the two, a combination of both of them, with his father's wide jaw and black hair, with his mother's blue eyes and easy smile.
"It's not… I mean, I'm thirty-six, it's not exactly…" Sam's voice was choked with emotion. "It shouldn't be a thing."
"When did you find out?"
"Tuesday." Sam must have caught the reaction on his face. "That's not why I came over."
"It's okay, Sam." He forced himself to look up into Sam's guilty expression. "You don't have to justify yourself. It's okay."
Sam said earnestly, "It's not that, Josh. It had an effect, but it's not-"
Sam was interrupted but a swift rapping on his window, and Josh swivelled in his chair to see Donna standing there, gesturing at her watch. He shooed her away with a quick wave of his hand and waited until she left before he checked Sam's clock. He sighed as the clock confirmed Donna's worry. "I've gotta go. I'm about to be late for a meeting."
"Yeah," Sam said, nodding distractedly and turning back to his pad of paper.
"Are you okay?"
Sam's answering smile was tight. "I'll be fine."
Josh paused as he opened the door, "Are you working late tonight?"
"Probably," Sam said and looked up. "Why?"
"I've got meetings until nine thirty. Possibly later. Do you want me to check in if you're still around when I'm done?" Sam looked a bit surprised, and Josh added, "We could get a drink or something."
"No. I've really… I have to get this done." Sam sounded apologetic but determined. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, tomorrow," Josh said as Donna came up to him with the necessary files.
***
