Delusional Sunset

[Samantha Vaccari]

Note: Takes place hours after this.

For the rest of her shift – all five hours of it – Sam had been trying to think of ways to apologize to Ellis. It was made clearly evident that she was in some sort of trouble. And the brunette was genuinely concerned about potentially being locked out of the house. Or at least the bedroom. The thought made her restless.

Her mood dropped significantly, enough for her to even hand out a couple of tickets. When she returned to the office, she stayed relatively quiet, filling out necessary paperwork with precision and efficiency. She barely took the time to say hello to Reid.

Briefly, she considered picking up flowers. A traditional way of apologizing to anyone, but the thought was quickly dismissed. It didn’t suit the Boston woman to do such a thing, and Ellis knew that. She had to do better, but she couldn’t think of better.

The back of her mind still rang with the blonde’s words; I’m not so easily distracted.

Sam crinkled her nose as she pulled into the driveway empty handed, eying the car she pulled up next to. The one she ticketed. At least she was home. That was something. She fiddled with the keys in her hands before unlocking the front door and stepping inside. “Hey.” She called out immediately, closing it behind her.

[Ellis Vaccari]

Despite her bests efforts, Ellis had managed to ignore the provoking connotation's of Sam's behaviour. Admittedly, she did her best to play along. Because it was irritating to have to withstand such an attitude for any period of time. When she liked to play she was a little relentless, and it meant simply handling her mood in whichever way possible.

The ticket, neatly unfolded and crease free - for the most part - was now on the fridge. Perfectly straight. Eye level. A magnet at each corner to really leave the details of Sam's writing clear.

For someone who was so enraged by her own father's ticket write up, it was jarring to receive the same treatment.

Ellis had wondered over that fact for hours, but she knew she'd never want to liken the Boston woman to the chief of police who seemed so against them. Games were games, and that was a dangerous ploy. Still, she couldn't really get it out of her mind. But she'd wear it alone as opposed to pointing it out to her counterpart. It wasn't worth it, she reassured herself.

It wasn't.

When she heard the door open, Ellis had been in the other room. Where she worked. But she left quickly, catching sight of Sam for a few moments before she reached up and curled her fingers around the hinge at the stem of her glasses. There, she drew them up, perching them on top of her head as she smiled - or tried to - at her. She felt sudden tension her neck. She wanted to let her own dark eyes wander as she always did. Because there she was.

But she didn't. And she didn't step close. Rather, she continued on her original trajectory towards the kitchen.

[Samantha Vaccari]

Immediately, Sam was aware that she wasn’t out of this. Nor did she ever believe she was, honestly. She knew Ellis held onto these things. Rightly so, she reasoned, or at least tried to reason.

She immediately caught sight of her lips. The smile that wasn’t quite right. Forced. She didn’t need her keen eyesight to notice it. However, it was helpful to catch the slight movement of her neck. The movement being forced to stop before she even took the chance to look.

Sam pressed her lips into a hard line in attempt to suppress her grin. Because, right, she was in trouble.

And even knowing that, the Boston woman felt surprise color her own features as Ellis walked away. The grin she was failing to hide quickly fell from her lips as she followed the blonde into the kitchen. It only took seconds for her to see the ticket on the fridge. How perfectly it sat there. “Maybe we should put it in a frame.” She tried innocently, opening the refrigerator, grabbing a gallon of milk and closing the door. She paused a moment, tapping the ticket with a finger.

[Ellis Vaccari]

It was strange to simply walk away from Sam. Ellis rarely found herself doing so when she'd first come home, if she ever really did it at all. To take necessary steps to greet her just to leave her seemed like a strange course of action. She could have stayed where she was and waited for the officer to come to her instead. She was caught somewhere between wanting her and wanting her to realise there was a mistake here.

Messages were mixed, and she thought of how to resolve that.

Leaning against the counter, Ellis folded her arms and chose to keep her gaze on Sam. Looking away didn't really feel like an option, not now that she was here. There was something irksome about the way she just brushed passed her, too. Like she wasn't even trying any more. Not a single ounce of contact.

"Why?" She asked, forcibly looking away from her to glance at it again.

[Samantha Vaccari]

Sam couldn’t believe how hard it had been to simply walk past Ellis in favor of the refrigerator. It was something she never did; if the blonde didn’t seek out contact first, Sam would do so very quickly. Still, the officer tried to play it off, despite how badly she just wanted to kiss her counterpart.

Sam waited to give an answer, taking the time to pour the milk into a glass and return the jug to the fridge. “Well, I mean, if it’s fridge worthy, isn’t it frame worthy?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows as she finally turned to look at Ellis. She couldn’t resist her urge to for a moment longer. Tipping the glass to her lips, she took a sip, dark eyes willingly doing what her counterpart hadn’t. Looked. As they grazed the line of her form, the officer couldn’t help the way her lips curved against her glass.

And that was it. Sam set her glass down on the counter, taking the necessary steps to the blonde. Because she was impossible to resist for too long; it was surprising she had lasted as long as she had. As she neared her counterpart, Sam reached forward to place her hands on either side of Ellis’s waist. “I was joking when I wrote it out, love."

[Ellis Vaccari]

Calculating the correct answer didn't take much time. However, Ellis felt caught within her gaze; the way her eyes traveled down her own body as if it were the first time she'd ever seen it. Her fingers tightened around her arms and she took a breath, determined as ever.

"It's as a reminder." Ellis replied, and she knew that would draw Sam's attention. As if Ellis would forget such a thing; as if she needed a reminder. Still, there it was. Neatly displayed so at least someone wouldn't forget.

She felt quick relief when Sam closed the distance between them, like the natural order was returning to their very way of life. Feeling the Boston woman's hands against her waist nearly drew her away from the counter completely. She could have leaned in and forgotten by now, if she were a normal person.

Instead, Ellis took another breath.

"You signed it." Ellis kept her gaze beyond her counterpart, though it was difficult in the proximity. She felt the physical tension in her neck. How it made her muscles ache. With a signature, it was legally binding now. At least, that was how Ellis understood it.

[Samantha Vaccari]

As Ellis expected, her statement caught Sam’s attention. Her eyebrows pulled together in a moment of confusion. Ellis didn’t forget. It took the officer a moment to realize just what the statement meant. Reinforcement that this clearly wasn’t over even after hours passed. Of course, Sam wouldn’t forget, but the brunette began to wonder if she seriously underestimated how much she had irritated Ellis.

At least she didn’t mind the breach in proximity, which Sam determined was, if anything, good. Instead of pulling her in, Sam made the move to take another step. To say that she missed her. Distance was never something Sam dealt with now, regardless of how little it was.

Some people could have dropped the subject, and Ellis was never one of those people. Sam knew that, and she loved it, despite the conversation not being in her favor. She’d rather have everything out in the open; it made moments like these easier, because at least Sam knew she did something wrong.

“I did.” She admitted, watching the way her counterpart looked past her. “But I didn’t file it as an actual report.” Sam lightly pressed her lips together. “I missed you.”

[Ellis Vaccari]

As Sam stepped closer, Ellis released the tension in her hands. It would have been so easy to unfurl her arms and reiterate the importance of that step. She felt her hands twitch, as if denying the move was some kind of personal torture. Feeling the Boston woman pressed against her was something she'd argue to be much worse.

Thankfully, she had to admit to that much. Signing the ticket. But to know she didn't actually file a legitimate report wasn't as settling as Sam might have thought it would be. Because it didn't matter. Not the ticket, or the legal ramifications of one. She didn't care to be penalised for doing something wrong; nor did she really care that she was the one implementing it.

But the admission from her counterpart caught her attention. And her eyes; she shifted her gaze back towards her finally. Immediately, her features softened. The irked expression dissipated, and all that remained was the residual worry. The key of it all. The emotion she hoped to keep hidden.

"I missed you." She repeated, her arms loosening in their fold.

[Samantha Vaccari]

Within the small proximity of Ellis, Sam briefly glanced down at her lips. She couldn’t help it. No matter the conversation, Samantha Frye would always want to kiss Ellis Vaccari. However, she found the means to resist as she brought her gaze back up to the blonde.

Sam was positive the information would help, or at least put her in slightly better favor, but it seemed to do little of the sort. As she thought further on it, it made sense. The officer felt her own tension rise at the realization. Ellis knew she had done something wrong with her parking violation. The ramifications of which were only logical. A ticket was the next series of events. That wasn’t the problem.

Her jaw tensed. Sam didn’t know what was wrong.

She missed her. The words – as with her love’s returning gaze and softening features – should have been relieving, and they were to an extent. But there was still something in her expression that caught Sam’s attention more than anything else. Worry. “What’s wrong?” She asked immediately, her eyebrows furrowing together as she began to feel in a similar state as her counterpart. She felt the urge to continue, to say she didn’t want to upset Ellis in any way, because she hadn’t, but the Boston woman kept quiet. She couldn’t press too much at once, and she knew that.

[Ellis Vaccari]

It was difficult to trick herself. Ellis maintained as much irritation about the overall situation as he could, but Sam knew exactly how to settle her and bring her back to the point. The point was what made her worry. It was something she didn't want to say. So when she was asked what was wrong, Ellis thought to lie. To say nothing was wrong. But it wasn't true by any means, and she'd never found lying easy. A level of deception was never something she wanted to inject into their relationship.

Finally, she unfurled her arms, her hands settling on her counterpart's shoulders. She ran her fingers underneath her collar on instinct, her eyes searching the movement as opposed to her own features.

"Don't ask me that," Ellis replied lightly, almost a little desperately. Her hands shifted a little, her fingers running along her neck slowly. Anything to maintain contact now that she had it. "I don't want to tell you."

[Samantha Vaccari]

Don’t assume. Sam pressed her lips into a hard line as she realized she had done just that. She couldn’t recall the amount of times she had told Ellis not to assume, especially when they were still students. She felt the muscles in her shoulders pull together as she tensed, her frustration with herself evident.

Yet somehow, the blonde always managed to ease away such frustration, and this was no different case. She reached out, and her touch was more relieving than ever. She felt the way familiar fingers tucked under the navy collar, the simple movement physically pushing the tension from her body.

But it did little to stop her concern.

“Please, love?” She tried, this time taking on a softer tone, her own worry seeping into it as she asked. The desperation in Ellis’s voice didn’t go unnoticed, but Sam felt the overbearing need to ask. Because she was concerned, and Sam was desperate to fix that.

[Ellis Vaccari]

Ellis immediately felt the tension fall from her counterpart's shoulders. It by no means changed the look on Sam's face, but at least it was something. The last thing Ellis wanted to do was worry her. To pressure her into something of a definite comparison.

Please. It was a work Ellis used with Sam often. It was the sure fire way to get a necessary response.

Love.

The gentler connotations of her tone were so pleading. She was worried. Wrapping her arms around her neck, Ellis leaned in further to rest her forehead against hers. She kept her eyes closed, because proximity made eye contact difficult and she was thankful for that.

"You have a record too, Sam. You know how you got it."

[Samantha Vaccari]

Despite the way Sam’s tension released from her shoulders, the Boston woman didn’t feel at ease. Still, as Ellis wrapped her arms around her neck, Sam eased her in closer, lightly pressing her palm to the small of her back.

Within the proximity, Sam caught how her counterpart closed her eyes, as she did when she found difficulty in speaking. Her lips pressed together as she desperately tried to figure out what was going through her mind.

Her record. Sam knew well she had one. It wasn’t the first time it was brought up, but the officer struggled to make the connection. She had a record and she knew how she got it. What did that have to do with this?

She took in a slow breath, thumb brushing against the material of her counterpart’s shirt. “I know I do.” She said as evenly as possible, “But I don't get what that has to do with this."

[Ellis Vaccari]

Momentarily, Ellis settled her focus on the small movement of Sam's hands through the material of her shirt. But it was the best indicator she needed. She didn't understand. Ellis always struggled to insinuate; the logical facts were her forte. An even explanation, more so. Had Sam made the connection, she wouldn't be calm.

She could have backed away.

The ticket. The joke to frame it. To call it fridge worthy.

"Who gave it to you?" Ellis asked, "Why did they give it to you?"

But it wasn't enough, and she knew it. So she pressed on as best she could within the minimal break. All she did was take a breath, her hold tightening, her eyes staying shut through force. "Why would you deem this a worthwhile encounter to remember? What point are you trying to make?"

[Samantha Vaccari]

Sam tried her best to read Ellis’s expression, the proximity made it hard, but her eyesight accommodated for such. The blonde’s eyes were shut so tightly, as if she could bear the idea of looking at Sam. It only made her worry over this grow.

And the moment she spoke again, the rhythmic movement of her thumb halted.

Sam felt the tension again rise in her shoulders. It shot through her arms as her fingers unconsciously curled into the fabric of her counterpart’s shirt. Sam knew well who gave her a court summons. The look on his face as he handed the paper to her.

“He did it because he’s an asshole on a power trip. This was a joke.” Sam heard the desperation to argue in her own voice. “This is different. I’m not like him!” She forced in a breath, her grip loosening on the blonde as she attempted to step back.