12A/N: I know, I know! I was gone a while! This chapter was meant to go up weeks ago and has been untouched since, but life got in the way. Long story short, I snapped my glasses and was basically blind for ages. I can't wear my contact lenses for long and had to use them for work rather than recreation.
Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad that the sexual tension came across well. Sadly, this chapter has little to none. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!
.:. QK .:.
After a long day at work and an evening of drinking with her Clinical Lead, Connie finally reached home and pulled up into her driveway. Shutting the engine off, she peered outside and noticed that although the downstairs lights were all off, her bedroom light was on. She raised an eyebrow, figuring that Sam, who'd agreed to take care of Grace after she finished school for the day, had made himself at home. Rolling her eyes at his audacity, she got out of her car and trudged up to the front door of her home sweet home.
Despite drinking with Zoe until she got severely drunk, Connie herself had managed to remain sober by drinking extra slowly and thus had required fewer refills. She thanked her lucky stars that the younger woman hadn't really picked up on her duplicity and had kept on drinking, spilling all of her secrets just as she (and Sam) had predicted. Well, not all of her secrets. Zoe had started to talk about some mystery man of hers but had stopped short of revealing his name, leaving Connie to wonder just who was important enough for Zoe to keep quiet about in spite of being so drunk that she'd revealed everything else. In the end, though, Connie had acquired all of the ammunition she needed and didn't push for more. Even she was above taking a woman down by snatching her man away from her.
Yawning inaudibly and blinking rapidly to stay awake, Connie crept upstairs in an effort not to wake anyone up. Judging from the silence, her daughter had long since gone to bed and said daughter's father had claimed the master bedroom as his own. Gently pushing her bedroom door open, Connie found that she was correct; Sam was slumped against the headboard of her bed, fast asleep. She briefly considered waking him up and sending him to his parents' place but her motherly desires forced her to leave him be and head off to Grace's room instead.
Following her usual nightly routine of checking over her young daughter and getting ready for bed, Connie padded out of her ensuite and back into her room, barely sparing a glance towards her bed as she picked up the designer jacket she'd unceremoniously dumped on it earlier. Hanging the jacket up in her wardrobe, she rubbed her eyes, asking herself where she'd left her Louis Vuitton handbag.
"Looking for something?"
She almost jumped at the voice, spinning around to see Sam wide awake, holding her handbag up and practically waving it at her. Slightly buzzed from the drinks, she just stood there, bleary-eyed, as he got up from her bed and strode towards her, exuding a ridiculous amount of confidence for someone who had just been snoring outrageously mere minutes ago. Showing his usual lack of regard for her personal space, he stopped right in front of her, snaking his arm around her to place her most prized possession, second only to her many pairs of Louboutins, on the shelf behind her. Shivering at his arm brushing against her waist as he pulled it back, she doubted that he'd been asleep at all now that she was getting a close look at his face.
"Thank you," she said, holding his gaze as she moved the handbag to the correct shelf before closing the wardrobe behind her.
"You're welcome," he replied smoothly, his none too weary eyes not so subtly running up and down her scantily clad figure. Being the ultimate seductress that she was, the corners of her lips curled up at the attention he was bestowing upon her.
"So, was she any trouble?" she asked, referring to the little firecracker sleeping in the adjacent room.
"No more than I expected from Connie Beauchamp's daughter," he replied, drawing closer to her, appearing to be amused at something. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what he was trying to get at. All of Grace's troublemaking antics were down to him, not her. She was sure of that.
"Yes, well, she inherited all of the good attributes from me," she quipped proudly, crossing her arms. Taking a step towards him and fixing him with a stare, she said, "As for her certain disregard for rules and etiquette... I can't begin to think of where she got that from."
They both smiled small at that one, but Sam wasted no time in jumping to defend himself. "Hey, don't look at me. Kieron never flouts rules."
Connie's smile faltered for a split second at the mention of her baby daddy's firstborn. "No thanks to you, no doubt," she quickly retorted, hoping that he hadn't picked up on her momentary change of facial expression.
It wasn't that she had a problem with Kieron, she really didn't, but sometimes she just couldn't help but think of the young man's mother, Ms Patel, and the nature of her relationship with Sam. After all, if he was still sleeping with one baby momma, he could easily still be sleeping with the other. Connie knew that it was none of her business but the nagging doubt did gnaw at her from time to time. She hated the fact that it bothered her so; they weren't teenagers, for God's sake.
"So, how was your night?"
Connie lost her train of thought, looking up at Sam and wondering when he had gotten so close. His face was mere inches from hers, and he was gazing at her so intensely that she found herself unable - and unwanting - to look away.
"The night's only just begun..." she trailed off, leaning forward to close the gap between them.
.:. QK .:.
The morning after, Connie was not surprised to wake up with Sam in her bed. This happened at least once every time he was in the UK for a custody visit; it was almost normal (well, as normal as their 'relationship' was ever going to get). She was surprised, though, to see that he was awake. Over the last eight years of occasionally sleeping in the same bed, she had always managed to wake up well before him and escape the awkwardness of facing him, stark naked, first thing in the morning. To her dismay, she realised that it was obviously going to be different this morning.
Since he was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, she deduced that he hadn't noticed her eyes flutter open. She closed her eyes again, contemplating what to do. While she wasn't exactly an early riser on her rare days off, she did have a list of things to do today which included preparing for Grace's afternoon birthday party. Considering the fact that dealing with a bunch of seven-year-olds for a number of hours was going to drain her, staying in bed a little longer under the pretence of sleep wouldn't hurt. That way, she could just wait for Sam to get up first. Unfortunately for her, it didn't seem like he intended to get up anytime soon. She couldn't even feel any movement from him through her mattress. If it wasn't for the sound of his breathing, she'd have thought him dead.
As always, her thoughts soon turned to Grace. Grace, the same girl who sometimes stormed into her room when she desperately wanted something from her mother, whether it was food or access to her father. Forgetting her plan to feign sleep in front of the father of said child, Connie's eyes shot open as she groaned aloud, fearing that her daughter had already entered her (stupidly) unlocked room and had seen her not-together-but-still-occasionally-sleeping-together parents sharing a bed. While it was unlikely that Grace would leave the room without waking Connie up, she could have just decided to leave quietly so as to not disturb her father. Connie wouldn't put it past her. With time, the seven-year-old was turning out to be quite the daddy's girl.
Connie fought the urge to hide her face away from Sam like a shy virgin as he turned his head to look at her. Taking in the bags under his weary eyes, she wondered if he'd actually slept at all last night. It would certainly explain why he, a man who slept in whenever he had the opportunity to, was awake before her.
"What's wrong?" he questioned tiredly, "Upset that I beat you in the race to wake up first?"
"Oh please," she began derisively, almost grateful to him for steering her towards their familiar, light-hearted and safe flirt-fight dynamic. "Only you could be upset about something as trivial as that..."
"Well, what is it then?" he pressed, turning on his side to face her and propping his head up on his elbow, sounding genuinely interested in what she had to say. She could have sworn that he even seemed a little concerned, reminding her of his stifling concern for their unborn daughter all those years ago. She may have softened up somewhere down the line but, for the most part, she still didn't react well to people worrying about her.
"I think Grace saw us," she divulged with a sigh. "She has a habit of bursting into my room whenever she wakes up before me. I'm worried that she did just that while we were both still sleeping."
Sam merely chuckled in response, completely throwing Connie off. She immediately sat up, holding the duvet to her chest and frowning down at him. For once in her life, rather than being angry at him, she was in a state of utter disbelief. She didn't see how what she had just said could possibly be funny. By her reckoning, it was actually rather serious.
"What's so funny?" she asked sharply, deeply disappointed that he found the thought of their young daughter walking in on them funny.
"She definitely did not 'burst' into your room," he answered unabashedly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. She looked at him like he was mad.
"How do you know?" she demanded to know, narrowing her eyes at him.
She thought she saw panic briefly flash through his eyes right before he said, "I would've heard her... I would've heard something." Something in the way he spoke, particularly his voice, told her that he wasn't exactly being truthful but she let it slide... for now.
"It would be impossible to hear anything through all of that monstrous snoring," she remarked, smirking at him as he shot up into a sitting position.
"What snoring?!" he exclaimed, looking affronted. His irritation only served to make her smirk grow wider. As always, she felt satisfied at riling him up. She considered it revenge for him leaving her blushing like a lovestruck schoolgirl in her kitchen the night before the last.
The sound of footsteps down the hallway quickly caught Connie's attention, and she turned away from Sam to look at the door. She sighed in relief as she heard another door open, realising that Grace had headed to the bathroom rather than straight to her mother's room. Maybe there was hope yet. Grateful that Sam hadn't thrown her nightwear to the other side of the room this time around - sadly, she couldn't say the same for his clothes - she picked her silk nightgown and lingerie off the floor and put them on.
Without looking back, she got up and said, "Come downstairs fully dressed." She didn't know who she was fooling. Grace would be able to tell that Daddy spent the night sleeping over but Connie hoped, probably in vain, that the girl wouldn't think to ask where since she knew that Mummy was currently using the guest room as an office.
"Alright milady," Sam replied sarcastically as Connie made her way to the door. "And I definitely do not snore!"
.:. QK .:.
After Sam went back to his parents' place, Grace in tow, Connie made a start on preparing for Grace's party. Loner nature aside, Connie felt a little guilty about not making enough time for her old friend, Elliot Hope, following her return to Holby and thus invited him over to help her (not that she needed it) while they caught up. The pair of them were currently sorting the party food out while he told her all about the latest scandal to hit Darwin. He'd been reluctant to tell her at first but started to spill everything once she told him that she'd already heard some rumours.
"I can't really say I'm surprised, Elliot," Connie commented, placing seven candles on the chocolate cake in front of her. "This is Jac Naylor we're talking about."
Elliot shrugged, removing freshly baked cookies from the baking tray and placing them on paper plates. "The pair of them turned the whole battle into a free public show. You can guess who had to calm them down."
"You forget who you're talking to," she stated, giving him a pointed look.
"Sam announced his paternity of Grace to the ward she was staying in but these two aired their dirty laundry in front of the whole of Darwin," he countered, shaking his head. "It was very unprofessional."
"That's true," she agreed, pausing as she thought of her daughter. "I never thought I'd say this... but I understand where she's coming from. She just wants her daughter."
Elliot frowned. "But to go to this extent?!"
This time, Connie shrugged. "I can't comment on that; Sam never tried to take Grace from me." I tried to keep Grace from him, she mentally added.
Seemingly happy with her reply, Elliot smiled and turned to Connie. "Speaking of Grace, what's she like? I haven't seen her since..." he trailed off awkwardly, cautiously glancing at her.
Connie pursed her lips, willing herself to push unpleasant memories to the back of her mind. "Since the funeral," she completed his sentence for him. He merely nodded while she took a deep breath, conjuring up a tight forced smile. "Well, she looks like me. She's got my mother's tongue too. Judging by appearance alone, she's me," she described fondly, her smile becoming genuine. "Of course, there's a tiny bit of Strachan about her... especially when it comes to her rebellious nature."
"And how is our young Mr Strachan?" Elliot enquired innocently enough, but Connie got the bizarre feeling that he was teasing her which just seemed impossible.
"Not so young anymore," she answered wryly.
"Getting along?" he pried, apparently very interested in her co-parent, or rather, her relationship with him.
"As mother and father should," she replied evasively, throwing his own words from years ago back at him. He chuckled, apparently recalling the fateful conversation.
Shaking her head at him, Connie decided to check if it was time to pick Grace up from the Strachans yet. As if on cue, her phone began to ring and she scowled, assuming it was the wretched Mrs Strachan herself. After reading the name on the screen, she was, perhaps for the first time in her life, pleased to find that she was wrong.
"Speak of the devil," she muttered, unsure if she was talking to herself or to Elliot, before swiping the receive button.
"Hey," the voice on the other end greeted, sounding somewhat tired. "How are you?"
Connie frowned. "I'm fine..." she answered, warning bells going off in her head. Now she was absolutely sure that Sam had gotten little to no sleep the night before and she couldn't help but wonder what on Earth had kept him up. The pensive look he'd had in his eyes that morning was worrying because when did Sam Strachan actually ever think (outside of work)?
"... I just called to let you know that I'm boarding my flight now," he informed, clearly in a hurry to end the call.
"Sam!" she yelled without thinking, drawing a surprised look from Elliot. She instantly regretted it, racking her brains for something to say. She didn't even know why she'd stopped him; surely she hadn't gotten so soft that she was going to express concern for him? That would wreak havoc on their point-scoring mind games but somehow, it didn't seem to matter right now.
"Yeah...?"
"Um, Elliot says hi..." she said lamely, mentally kicking herself as soon as the words left her mouth. She didn't even want to see Elliot's reaction right now.
"Same to him."
The air suddenly felt so awkward, even more so than when they had woken up together in the morning. It pained her that she found it so difficult to ask him if he was okay but could pretty much do and say everything else to him. Her infallible pride always stopped her from reaching out to him in the past and was still doing so. It was beyond frustrating.
"I hope you have a safe journey," she stated, unable to bring herself her to say what she really wanted to say.
"Thanks... Bye."
"Bye."
As Sam hung up, Connie hoped that Elliot didn't grill her on that weird conversation. Not that Elliot was one of her nosey and gossipy girlfriends, she shuddered at the thought, glad that she didn't have one of those, but he really could be such a worry wart sometimes. He'd been her quasi older brother back at Holby, always her confidant, and to this day, he still was. She just didn't feel like discussing her and Sam's weird relationship with him, something she couldn't even understand herself, let alone explain to someone else.
Fortunately for Connie, she was literally saved by the bell - her doorbell, to be precise. She looked back at Elliot, wondering who it was. Walking up to the door, she hoped that it wasn't one of her daughter's friends who'd decided to show up early. Upon opening the door, she was bombarded by a pint-sized figure.
"Mummy!" Grace exclaimed, hugging Connie like she hadn't seen her in years.
"Hi, sweetie." Connie returned the hug, feeling all warm inside, glad that Grace wasn't so much of a premature teenager just yet. She looked up, sharing an amused look with the man standing behind his granddaughter. "Harry, you really didn't have to go through all the trouble!"
"Nonsense," he replied, waving her off as Grace finally released her. "Grace wanted to see Sam off at the airport so I thought I might as well drop her off here while I was at it."
"Is that Elliot?" Grace suddenly asked, pointing at the Clinical Lead of Darwin standing in the hallway. "The one that saw me as a baby?"
"Hello, Grace," Elliot said, waving at her.
"Don't point; it's rude," Connie reprimanded gently, putting the offending finger down. "Yes, that's him."
Grace, never the shy one, ran over to Elliot as if they were old friends and dragged him into the living room. "Wow!" she exclaimed, making both Connie and Harry laugh in the hallway.
"Elliot? The one you and Sam worked with?" Harry questioned. Connie nodded, scanning the car next to hers in the driveway for any sign of Audrey Strachan, feeling satisfied when she found none.
"Why don't you come inside and stay a while? I'll introduce him to you," she offered, stepping aside to make way for him. He accepted, walking inside and giving his jacket to her when she gestured for it.
As she closed the door behind her and hung Harry's jacket up in the hallway, Connie found herself thinking of Sam once more. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very wrong with him. It was all too easy to recall his bout of cancer and sepsis, and how she'd lived in fear each and every day until he told her he'd gone into remission. Phone still in her hands, she quickly went to the messages section, composing a new message and hitting send before she lost her nerve.
'Are you okay?'
She followed Harry into the living room, not expecting Sam to reply until much later, if at all. She was proven wrong when her phone dinged mere seconds later.
'I'm fine.'
An immense sense of relief flowed through her as she read his reply and she released a breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding. He was okay... Her family was okay.
.:. QK .:.
A/N: Ugh, this was cheesy.
I am aware that Connie was over probably over the legal limit but... whatever! Sorry if it felt anticlimactic but I didn't feel like writing the dirty deed; you will just have to imagine what happened ;) As for Kieron's mother, she was never really mentioned (?) so I assumed that she's still alive and well. Same goes for Sam's father; I remember Sam being absent from a couple of episodes due to a family bereavement but since they never specified who (I think?), anything goes. Since Elliot has appeared in Casualty once or twice, I'm not labelling this as a crossover. Besides, this is his only feature thus far.
Woah, I guess the above paragraph makes me appear very defensive...
