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Title: Brotherly Love
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: West Wing
Rating: R - for imagery
Pairing: Sam/Carol
Spoilers: No specifics, but everything up to Night Five to be safe
Summary: Carol's brother pays a visit.
Author's Note: {2002} This takes place the night after Night Five. I'm resisting the temptation to make a Night Six joke here. Previous instalments of the Dark Horses series can be found at my site.


He had not, Sam reflected, been having a good day. Not that any day working at the White House was a day at the beach; he was always busy, always trying to do ten things at once, put out a dozen fires, sometimes even literally. This had been a particularly eventful day, what with the speech at the United Nations on Monday still not being locked down. Trying to get all the people concerned to agree on anything was proving to be impossible, and not aided by the fact that as soon as they seemed to be getting somewhere, either Josh or Leo would walk in with an item that would throw them back to where they started. Preparations were well under way for the First Lady's birthday soiree in a couple of weeks time, and they were going to have to think about putting together some remarks for that, which would involve considerably greater input from the President, God help them all. And, as well as all that, Sam couldn't help but notice that Ginger was quieter than she normally was, far more withdrawn; comments the previous night about stiletto feminism notwithstanding. Sometimes, she seemed fine, other times not, and that was something that he'd been noticing ever since that night last week that he'd walked into Carol's apartment to find Ginger and Carol sitting on the couch, Ginger obviously in tears. He'd asked Carol about it later that night, but she hadn't told him anything, just that Ginger was having trouble dealing with what happened at the New Year's Eve party. Just because he hadn't heard any of the specifics didn't mean that he couldn't worry about Ginger though, couldn't keep an eye out for her in the office. He'd talked to Carol about that too, wondering if there was anything that they could do, and she'd just shaken her head, telling him that all they could do was just be there for her, to talk to if she wanted to. He hadn't been too happy with that, but he'd deferred to Carol's judgement, knowing that she was probably right.

All in all though, he hadn't exactly been attentive to the clock, although he had noted the time when Carol had popped her head in the door, telling him that she was leaving, reminding him not to be late. He'd lifted his head, waving at her from his perch on Toby's couch, computer on his lap, papers strewn around him, Toby and the others still debating the language. She'd given him a warning look that he'd sworn she'd learned from CJ, but she'd left, leaving him to his work.

Which really, he reflected, as he drove through the streets to her apartment, had been a mistake on her part. She should have known that he would get lost in the speech, that he'd forget to look at the clock, that he'd end up being late.

The fact that he was a grown man and more than able to read the clock, and that she'd undoubtedly point that out to him, probably with a dinner plate thrown across the room for good measure, also crossed his mind, and he decided that that probably wasn't an approach that he'd use with her.

He drove as quickly as he could without getting stopped by the police, finding a parking space near to Carol's apartment and running to her door. He paused before sliding his key into the lock, taking several deep breaths to bring his breathing under control, running his hands through his hair, straightening his tie. Then, with another deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside.

"Sam? Is that you?" Carol's voice drifted down the hall.

"Yeah," he called out, hanging up his coat. "I'm sorry I'm late," he continued as he saw her coming towards him. "Toby wouldn't let go of a point, and when we got that straightened out, it had a knock-on effect on the next three paragraphs…"

"It's ok Sam." She rested her hands on his shoulders, kissing his lips quickly, and the smile on her face told him that she really meant that. "I was kinda expecting it."

He chuckled slightly, shaking his head, his hands settling on her hips. "You know me too well."

"Yeah, I do," she grinned, kissing him again. "You ready for this?"

He sucked in his breath, let it out slowly, feeling a hundred butterflies take flight in his stomach. "Is it too late to go back and help Toby?"

He was only half-joking, but Carol laughed, taking him by the hand and pulling him down the hall, into the living room. Standing there, looking at the various photographs that adorned the mantelpiece and tables along the walls, was a man slightly taller than Sam himself, but not unlike him as far as build went. His hair was dark, the same shade as Carol's, and when he turned and looked at them, his eyes were Carol's too. The look on his face was also familiar; it was the same kind of look that Carol had turned on him when she'd come into Toby's office earlier. His mouth was set in a tight line, his arms crossed over his chest, and it didn't look like he was in any way disposed to make the evening go smoothly. The butterflies in Sam's stomach tripled, but he did his best to salvage a smile.

"Sam." Carol stopped walking, holding onto his hand, squeezing it tightly as if in reassurance. "This is my brother, Jimmy. Jimmy, this is Sam."

Sam held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah." Jimmy took his hand, but didn't crack a smile, and his tone was that of Toby on one of his worst days. His handshake was firm but brief as he looked Sam up and down, leaving him with the clear notion that he was being sized up, and was coming up lacking. Jimmy's next words removed any doubt, along with the pointed look at the clock. "I guess it's better late than never huh?"

Sam forced himself to keep smiling, and didn't miss Carol's tightening of her grip. "That's something I've always believed in," he managed. "Things don't always run on schedule in the White House."

"Tell me about it." Carol rolled her eyes with a smile, and Sam found his own becoming more genuine at her response.

Not for long though. "So, this happens a lot then?" was Jimmy's next question.

"Only when we're busy," Sam replied, trying to draw a line under the issue, thinking it better to neglect the fact that they were never not busy. He was all too aware of the look that Carol was giving Jimmy and he squeezed her hand, trying to support her the same way that she'd supported him.

"Why don't I serve up?" Even as she spoke, Carol was moving towards the kitchen, her hand leaving Sam's finally, eager, it seemed, to start the evening moving forward. Not that Sam was opposed to that plan as such. Surely if Jimmy was eating, he wouldn't be constantly sniping at him.

Of course, first they had to get to the dinner table, and for the moment, he and Jimmy were left alone in the living room. It was Jimmy who broke the tense silence. "So, Carol tells me you've been together since New Year's Eve?"

"Yeah, that's right." That, at least, was a topic that Sam felt comfortable with. "It's weird… I mean, we've known each other since the campaign, been friends, worked together. But that night, something just clicked between us."

He shrugged, almost embarrassed at the story, having been made to repeat it on countless occasions to much ribald teasing by friends and co-workers. But there was no teasing quality to Jimmy's response. "Right," came the clipped reply. "That's normally pretty unusual, isn't it?"

Telling him of the strange hook-ups that had taken place that night wasn't going to help at all, Sam knew, so he deftly side-stepped the question. "I guess so," he allowed. "But I can't say I'm not grateful for it."

"But it's not the first time you've done something like that, is it?"

Sam frowned at the question. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I'm talking about a picture of you that was in the paper a couple of years ago…about you and another girl that you clicked with…' The disdain was plain on Jimmy's face, and Sam felt his jaw clench, his fists curling at his side.

"That wasn't what it looked like," he ground out. "As I’m sure Carol's already told you."

"Oh, she's told me. And I know that she believes it. I'm just not so sure that I do."

Sam was trying to come up with a response to that when Carol called them into the kitchen. "Thank God," he muttered, leading the way, managing to give her a reassuring smile as he helped her with some of the dishes. He'd known that tonight was going to be no picnic; hence his joke about it not being too late to go back to the White House. He hadn't thought that it was going to be quite this hard however, and dinner hadn't even been served yet.

Jimmy was the first member of Carol's family that he'd actually met, although he'd joined in conversations with her two sisters over the speakerphone once or twice, by accident. He'd walked into the apartment when the conversation had been well underway, calling out her name, apologising and offering to make himself scarce when he realised that she was talking on the phone. On each such occasion however, Tessa and Melissa had reacted in exactly the same fashion, shouting at him not to go anywhere as Carol clicked on the speakerphone. He'd been surprised, only later learning that this was something of a tradition among the Reilly sisters, and given the amount of stories that he'd heard about Carol during those calls, it was a tradition that he had no problem in embracing. No, he had no problem with the sisters, and from what he'd heard on the grapevine, Carol's parents and her younger brother David were looking forward to meeting him.

Jimmy was a different story. Carol had warned him about that. The girls had warned him about that; told him that whatever their brother said, or did, he wasn't to take it to heart. He could still picture her standing in her kitchen, the first night that she told him she'd told Tessa about the two of them, the worry in her eyes when she mentioned she'd been wondering what Jimmy would say about the two of them, her sleeves pulled down low over her hands. Jimmy, he'd been told, was the ultimate over-protective older brother, the one who never liked any of their boyfriends. It had been a running joke among the three sisters for years that their boyfriends were the only boys in town who dreaded running into their brother more than their father, and on tonight's performance thus far, Sam knew just why they felt that way.

In spite of his best wishes, and his best attempts, things didn't get any better over dinner. It seemed that no matter what he said, Jimmy went out of his way to take it up wrong, using it to attack him. By the end of dinner, Sam was keeping a rein on his temper with difficulty, while Carol was squirming in her seat. "Why don't you go on inside Jimmy," she suggested as they stood up from the table. "I'll bring in the coffee in a second."

From the tone of her voice, it wasn't a suggestion, and Jimmy didn't offer any objections. "I'll help you clean these," Sam said as Jimmy left, waiting until the door closed, and giving Jimmy plenty of time to get into the living room, before he said anything. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw Carol's head tilt up to the ceiling, her hands going over her face. "Hey, it's ok," he whispered, going straight over to her and pulling her into a hug. "It's ok."

She was shaking, but when she pulled back, he could see that it was more with laughter than with tears, either of frustration or of anger, he couldn't say which. "I'm sorry," was the first thing she said.

"It's not your fault," he protested, but she wasn't having any of it.

"He's not usually this bad Sam, really. I swear, if I'd known he'd be like this, I'd have…"

He laughed at her words, pulling her back into his arms. "So I should feel honoured is what you're telling me?"

Her own giggles were muffled by his shirt. "Maybe not," she allowed. He felt her breathing in deeply before she pulled away, putting some space between them. "I really am sorry," she said again.

"I can take it." He began piling the plates up, bringing them over to the sink as he spoke. "I work with Toby, remember? This is nothing."

"He'll come around," she told him, checking the coffee maker before taking some cups down from the cupboard.

"And if he doesn’t?" The words slipped out without Sam realising it, and he could have cheerfully bitten off his tongue. He thought that she might be upset, but she just shrugged, turning to him and flipping her hair back over her shoulder as she responded.

"I'll call out the big guns." She spoke airily, pausing for a beat before adding, "I'll tell Mom."

He laughed; he couldn't help it, and he reached out and pulled her into another hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "I won't hang around long after coffee, if it's all the same to you. I think you need time to talk."

She nodded. "That's a good idea." Then she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, looking at him through her lashes. "But can I call you before I go to sleep?"

He grinned down at her, moving his head closer to hers. "You'd better," he all but growled, meeting her lips with his, pulling her closer when she responded enthusiastically.

They were well on their way to losing track of time when the sound of the kitchen door closing interrupted them, and they jumped apart. They hadn't even heard it open, but they realised quickly what must have happened, and exchanged guilty looks. "Oops," Sam muttered, causing Carol to burst into giggles, which she was unable to get under control. That meant that it was left to Sam to pour the coffee and carry in Jimmy's, since Carol was barely able to hold her own cup steady.

Sam didn't miss the way her giggles faded completely the second they entered the living room and saw Jimmy's stony face. "Sorry to have interrupted," he said, his whole demeanour managing to convey the opposite meaning.

"It's fine." Carol spoke before Sam had a chance to. "That's something else we're used to."

Sam took a quick sip of his coffee, the better to ensure that he wouldn't say something he'd regret. Jimmy lifted an eyebrow, but didn't say a word for a long moment. "Really."

It was just one word, but he drew it out, the look on his face, the tone of his voice managing to convey more distaste than a fifteen minute lecture. It was then that Carol put her cup down on the coffee table with a clatter.

"OK, that's it."

"Carol…" Sam put a hand on her elbow, trying to calm her, but she shook him off.

"No Sam. I know what I said, but he's been nothing but rude to you since you got here." She turned her gaze on her brother. "And I've got no idea why. You've spoken to me. I know you've spoken to Tess and Melissa. We'll all told you the same thing, but you haven't even given Sam a chance." She took a step closer to him, her eyes pleading, beseeching. "He's a nice guy Jimmy." She measured each word of that last sentence, emphasising each one, but Jimmy's jaw only tightened.

"I've seen you with nice guys Carol," he told her. "And you've got the scars to prove it."

His face didn't change as he spoke, and Carol's shocked intake of breath was drowned out by Sam's words. "OK, that is it," he said firmly, echoing Carol's words from seconds earlier. "I don't care who you are, you have no right to speak to her like that."

"I'm her brother-"

If Jimmy thought that that would cut any ice with an impassioned Sam Seaborn, he was soon proven wrong. "And you don't even know her! Look at her. Look at her. Look at this phenomenal woman you're related to. She's intelligent, she's caring, she does more running around and putting out of fires on a daily basis than she ever tells anyone, and I've never heard her complain about it. Nor have I ever heard a complaint against her. She's extraordinarily competent at her work, she's popular…CJ Cregg threatened me with bloody violence if I ever hurt her, not that I ever would. And not because of those threats, by the way. But because I happen to love her, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for her. Including tell her brother that he's being a jackass to her, and he should be on his knees, begging for her forgiveness." He was breathing hard by the time he was finished, and turned to Carol. Her eyes were wide and shocked, one hand resting on her chest. He went over to her, kissing her on the cheek. "I'm sorry," he told her quietly, resting his hand on her elbow. "But he needed to be told that."

Without another word, just a quick squeeze of her arm, he walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.

>*<*>*<

The door was closed before Carol came fully back to herself, before Sam's words registered with her. When they did, her gaze swung first to the door, then back to Jimmy, who was staring at her, a surprised look on his face. "Stay there," she ordered, moving past him into the hall, grabbing her keys from the table and slamming the door in her haste to catch up to Sam. She ran down the hall, hoping that she'd be quick enough to catch him before he got to his car, and at the door of her building, she got lucky. He'd evidently stopped at the bottom of the stairs, either to catch his breath after the night's events or because the reality of what he'd said had caught up to him. She was suddenly unable to move as she looked at him, and it took him beginning to move for her to recover herself. "Sam," she called, but he mustn't have heard her. "Sam!" she called again, running down the steps, following him down the street.

The third time she called his name, he heard her, and he turned, surprise written all over his face. "Carol-" he began, but anything he might have said was cut off by her arms being flung around his neck, her body crashing into his, knocking the breath out of him. His arms went around her waist automatically, and he buried his face in her hair for a second before he pulled back. "What are you-"

Once again, she cut him off, her lips meeting his, and she kissed him hungrily, one hand moving up to cup his head, the other moving down to the small of his back, the better to press him closer to her. His hands roamed her back, moving up and down, then she pulled back, looking up at him, eyes wide. "Did you mean it?" she asked, when she got her breath back.

"Mean it?" Either he was playing dumb, or the kiss had rattled a few brain cells, but either way, Carol wasn't having it.

"What you said up there. Did you mean it?"

He looked up to the sky, not stilling his hands at all. "It's not the way I wanted to say it," he told her, and she shook her head, laughing softly.

"Sam…"

"Seriously. I wanted it to be more romantic the first time …just the two of us …candlelight…music playing…maybe some dancing…"

"Sam…" Her voice went up a little there, both from the words, and the look in his eyes. She'd seen that look before, or variations of it, when they woke up in the morning, when they kissed goodbye in his office, sometimes when he was just looking at her from across a room. "I don't need any of that stuff…"

"But you deserve it." His voice was quiet, and one of her hands went up to cup his cheek.

"So you meant it?" She knew the answer, but there was a part of her that needed to hear him saying it.

"I meant it," he whispered, and she shivered at the words. "I love you Carol."

A smile broke out across her face. "I love you too," she whispered, before she pulled him in for another kiss.

They were both smiling when they broke apart, but Sam's face quickly turned into a frown. "You're shivering," he pointed out. "You should go back inside."

"I'm not cold." He laughed at her denial.

"You should still go back in. Jimmy's probably calling the police, telling them that I'm corrupting his baby sister."

"Let him," Carol laughed. She kissed him again, until she pulled back reluctantly. "I'll call you later."

"You'd better." He kissed her on the cheek and she went back to the building, turning when she reached the door. He was still standing there, hands in his pockets, smiling up at her, and she grinned back, waving as she went inside.

She was grinning right until she got into her living room and she came face to face with Jimmy. Then her good mood vanished. A thousand comments came into her mind, none of which she gave voice to immediately. Instead she paced the length of the room, turning, doing it again before she stopped in front of him. "You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?" Jimmy opened his mouth but she didn't let him answer. "You want to tell me why you didn't even give Sam a chance? You had him judged before he even walked through the door based on a picture that was taken two years ago…"

"Where he was consorting with a call girl!" Jimmy exploded.

"I explained that to you," Carol hit back. "I told you what happened, that it was all a misunderstanding. Besides which, he wasn't dating me then, or had you forgotten that?"

"And you're so sure that he won't do it again?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Carol threw her hands up in the air. "I know him Jimmy. I've known him for years, and I know that he won't cheat on me. I know that he won't hurt me."

"You've said that before," Jimmy pointed out.

"So what? So I've made bad choices in the past, who hasn't? It doesn't mean that you lock yourself up in a box and stop living."

"I just worry-"

"Oh would you stop!" Carol walked away from him in disgust before wheeling around angrily. "I am not sixteen any more Jimmy. I haven't been for a long time. When are you going to get over making-"

"When I stop seeing you lying in a pool of your own blood, how about then?" Jimmy's words cut across hers, just as angry, and she stopped abruptly. Not once, never in all the years since that night, had anyone in her family ever talked to her about it. She'd gone to the therapist that the hospital had put in her touch with, and she'd talked to the counsellors, and some of her friends had made sure that she was doing all right. But for her family, it was as if it had never happened. "When I stop remembering Mom screaming, and Dad crying, and the kids wanting to know what was going on. When I stop remembering how pale you were…how I could see right through your skin…" He broke off, clearing his throat.

"Jimmy…" she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"You want to know why I worry about you? Maybe it's because once upon a time, I didn't worry enough. I knew that you were in trouble, I knew that something was wrong with you, and I didn't do a thing about it. Do you know how guilty I felt about that? Even that night…I was going to go to bed, do you know that? I heard about what happened at the party, and I went home early, saw your jacket in the hall. I checked downstairs for you, didn't see you, and I just thought you'd crashed out in your room. I was going to go in, but it was late, and I knew Tess was asleep in there. I was all set to go into my room, until I saw the bathroom light out of the corner of my eye."

Carol swallowed hard, tears streaming down her face. She'd heard excerpts of his story, but not the whole thing. Certainly not told like this, with such raw emotion. "I don't know what made me look in there. But when I remember it now I can see my hand, pushing open the door…I thought you'd fallen down at first, maybe cut your head or something. But there was so much blood…Jesus, there was so much blood. And I can't remember doing it, but I must have called for Mom and Dad because they were there, and Mom was screaming, and Dad was yelling something about an ambulance, and we were trying to stop the bleeding…" He brushed aside tears impatiently, taking a deep breath before he continued. "I remember looking around and seeing the kids there, Dad pushing them away, telling them to go back into their rooms. Mom went with you in the ambulance, and Dad and I drove there. I drove there, because Dad couldn't. It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry."

"It was the longest couple of hours of my life before they told us that you were going to be ok. Mom was crying again, but she was adamant that she wasn't going to leave you. I think she thought that if she left you, something bad would happen. Dad tried to get her to go home, get some rest, but she looked up at me, and you know the first thing she said? She told me that I needed to change my clothes. That was when I realised that I was covered in blood. And so was she. Your blood."

Carol took a shuddering breath, still crying, and sank down on the couch. Her sleeves were pulled down over her hands, her hands balled into fists, and she pressed them against her lips now, willing herself to stop crying, to stop shaking. "So I did what Mom told me. I went home, told her I'd bring her back some clean clothes too. Mrs Anderson was minding the kids; she'd heard the ambulance and wanted to know if there was anything she could do. She tried to get them to go back to bed, to sleep, but they couldn't. You know what they did instead? They cleaned."

She looked up at him then, eyes wide, tears momentarily stilled in shock. "That's right," he continued, nodding. "Your twelve year old brother, and your little sisters, fourteen and ten, got mops and buckets of water and cleaned that bathroom from top to bottom. Then they washed their clothes, the towels, everything, so that Mom wouldn't have to do it when she got home. They tried to do the same thing with mine. I wouldn't let them. I took the clothes I was wearing out to the back garden and I burned them. I knew I'd never wear them again."

"I didn't know," Carol whispered.

"No. Because Dad told us all that what you needed was to put it behind you. We knew you couldn't remember most of what happened, and Dad thought it was better that way. The kids didn't find out until they were older what happened to cause it, but Dad told me. Because I was the oldest. Do you know how much I wanted to kill Bobby for what he did to you? Seeing him walking around school like that…as if nothing had happened…"

A shudder ran the length of Carol's spine as she remembered the times that she'd encountered him, which had thankfully been few and far between. Bobby had avoided her once she'd come back to school, and his friends seemed to have been warned off as well. Her friends had rallied around her, and any time their paths had crossed, one of them had spirited her away with a toss of hair and a sarcastic comment. She rubbed her hands over her face now, brushing the tears away. "Sam's not Bobby," she told him quietly. "And I'm not that girl anymore."

Jimmy blew out a deep breath, sitting down beside her. "I'm beginning to see that," he admitted. "He stuck up for you pretty good tonight."

In spite of the night's revelations, Carol giggled. "I thought he was going to hit you."

"You're not the only one." Suddenly Jimmy was fighting back laughter of his own, and when their eyes met, both dissolved into laughter. When they'd sobered up somewhat, Jimmy leaned back against the cushions of the couch. "You think he'll forgive me?"

"Sam's pretty understanding that way." Carol looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'll put in a good word for you."

"Thank you."

Carol looked up at the ceiling. "He knows, you know. About that night. I told him on New Year's Eve. It was silly, my bracelet had fallen off and he put it back on…that's when he saw my arms. I thought he'd run away, that he'd think I was some kind of lunatic. But he didn't. He just listened to me, and held my hand…he was so sweet. I think I fell in love with him right then and there."

"It's serious then?" Jimmy lifted an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

Jimmy looked her in the eye, then shrugged. "OK then. I'd better get to work on my apology."

"I would think so."

He looked over at the clock on the wall. "It's pretty late Sis. And I'm beat. I think I'm going to head to bed." He stood, looking down at her. "You staying up?"

The idea of going to bed had absolutely no appeal to Carol. Nor did staying up alone. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she realised where she wanted to be. "I think I'm going to go out."

He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. "I guess I won't see you before morning then." It wasn't a question, and she shook her head, half expecting another explosion. "Then call me tomorrow, and we'll get lunch. Or dinner. Or something. I'll be around, sightseeing and such." Carol grinned at him, getting up and hugging him quickly. "And tell Sam I said sorry."

"Will do." With that, she was gone, grabbing her purse and coat, pulling it on as she walked down the hall. The streets were deserted at that hour of the night, and she easily found a parking space on Sam's street. She hardly realised she was doing it, but by the time she got to his door, she was running, and her hand was shaking so badly that she struggled to get the key into the lock. The apartment was silent and dark when she entered, and for a second, she was sure that he wasn't there. Then she saw his briefcase and coat near to the door, and smiled to herself, her coat joining his on the hook. Snapping on the hall light, she made her way towards his bedroom, the door slightly ajar when she got there. She pushed it open further, just enough that she could stand and look at him. He was lying on his side, the blanket pulled up to his chin, a small smile on his face. When the light from the hall hit his face, he stirred, frowningly slightly, turning on to his back. Carol took that as her cue to move further into the room, but she left the door open, letting the light guide her as she began removing her clothes.

"Carol?" His eyes opened briefly, then opened wide when he saw her there, and he realised that he wasn't dreaming. "What are you doing…"

"Sssh." Her voice sounded thick with tears even to her own ears as she slipped into bed beside him, pressing close to him, savouring the feeling of his skin against hers. "Don't. Just hold me?"

He frowned still further at her whispered plea, but he did as she asked, and that finished whatever self-control she'd been holding on to. One of his hands stroked her hair, the other made wide circles on her back as she cried. When she cried herself out, she was still shaking with the force of her emotions, and he looked down at her. "What did he say to you?" he demanded.

"He thinks you're going to hurt me. That it's going to be like it was when I was sixteen." She felt his grip tighten, felt his fierce kiss to the top of her head. "We had this huge fight, and he told me about that night…what he remembers of it…"

She broke off when a fresh round of sobs threatened to overwhelm her. "Are you ok?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "Yeah." And to her surprise, she was. She and Jimmy had always been like that, ever since they were kids. They could fight like cat and dog one minute, and have it all forgotten the next. "He wants to meet for lunch or dinner tomorrow. And he says he's sorry for the way he acted. He wants to start over."

Sam nodded. "Lunch might be tricky, I'm pretty tight tomorrow. Dinner's better."

"That's all you're going to say?" That was easier than she'd expected.

"If I were him, I'd probably have done exactly the same thing," Sam shrugged, and she found herself laughing again, raising herself up on one arm, using the other to brush back his hair.

"Oh Sam, I love you."

She lowered her lips to his for a kiss, closing her eyes as what started out innocent soon grew into something entirely different. "I love you too," he whispered in between kisses, his hands moving lower all the while, evidently determined to show her just how much. "Is Jimmy expecting you back?"

"Not tonight," she breathed, gasping when he flipped them over in one smooth move so that he was looking down at her.

"Well then," he smiled. "Let's make the most of that, shall we?"

Carol shrugged, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I don't have a problem with that…" she got out, before his lips found hers again and all further thoughts of conversation, of the events of the night, and of her brother's feelings flew out of their heads. There would be time enough for that tomorrow.

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