Flashpoint Fic: It Began with a Tie, 16/30 and 17/30 (Sam/Spike, PG)

Jun 22, 2009 12:12

Title: It Began with a Tie, Part 16/30 - Scarlatti Style
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Spike.
Word Count: 500.
Rating: PG.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Spike is worried about Sam and what he eats.
Written for: flashpoint_sru, #18 Cover.
Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.
Beta: The awesome lillyg!
Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

It Began with a Tie

Scarlatti Style

One beer meant an entire celebration for Sam. He didn’t need more. He’d found himself comfortable around Spike again. No weird ideas. No strange situations. No confusion. Suddenly, the fear was fading and a new, completely harmless feeling of friendly affection had started to settle down.

Thinking of how good he’d done that day, he threw the empty bottle of beer to the trash. Tired and wanting to go to bed, he cursed when someone rang the bell of his apartment.

“Annoying neighbors…” Sam yawned rubbed the back of his head as he opened the door, but as soon as he saw Spike, his eyes went wide open. “Hey…”

“Hey.”

“What are you…”

“According to my mom, I’m saving you from starving,” Spike explained, coming in and taking a look at the medium-size apartment. He left his jacket on a little couch and added, “She says you don’t eat well.”

Sam was a bit worried about the messy state of the place, but as soon as he heard that comment, all he could do was answer, “What? I’m all right!”

“Where’s the kitchen?”

“Believe it or not, I can survive by myself!” Sam assured him as he followed him around the apartment. “I was military, I certainly know how to make myself a proper meal, even out of nothing!”

Apparently, Spike had decided to ignore it, and he’d found the kitchen. “Aha!”

“Spike…”

Opening the cupboards, Spike froze. “No!” he yelled, taking out a cereal box and showing it off. “September 2006? Are you kidding me?”

Sam gulped and placed his hands on his hips, trying to find a good excuse even if he didn’t know why he should give any. “I haven’t opened that drawer in like…”

“Three years?”

“Kind of.”

“Oh. My. God. Please, whatever you say… it just makes it worse.”

Shaking his head, Spike desperately continued opening the cupboards. More packages came up, and all of them had an expiration date from a thousand years ago. Finally, Spike turned around and told his verdict. Resting his hands on the counter, he stated, “Man, I so gotta cover your ass when it comes to the cooking area. You have no real food here. So it’s true what Jules said about you only owning a bike?”

“Hey, it’s a good bike!”

Spike sighed. “Have you ever heard of a thing called ‘pasta’?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then you’re going to have to forget about that, because I’m going to provide you a whole new experience. I’m going to take it to the next level, my friend.”

“There’s a… next level?” Sam asked, confused.

“Yeah. Once you taste the fabulous pasta a la Scarlatti, your life will never be the same.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to…”

“Don’t say a word. This is officially a rescue mission.”

Sam stared back at him and decided to surrender. “Okay… It’s all yours, Sir,” he gave up, beckoning his little kitchen and resting his back on the wall to watch and learn.

Title: It Began with a Tie, Part 17/30 - Definition of Romance
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Spike, mention of Sam/Jules.
Word Count: 500.
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Spike really wants to know if Sam and Jules are (still) together.
Written for: flashpoint_sru, #12 Retaliate.
Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.
Beta: The awesome lillyg!
Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

It Began with a Tie

Definition of Romance

Only one taste and suddenly Sam’s entire experience of enjoying pasta had completely transformed. “This is… this is…”

“Salt!” Spike announced, running to the kitchen and coming back to the table with the salt so he could add it to both plates. “Voilá!”

“What, your mom taught you French, too?”

“Very funny,” Spike responded, smiling. “So you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” Sam took another bite. “This is excellent!” he admitted, absolutely surprised by the great cooking skills his new friends had. In the bottom of his heart, he also knew that he was extremely grateful to have someone over who’d cook for him a decent meal. He didn’t even remember when he’d eaten something as good as pasta a la Scarlatti. Hell, he’d probably never had anything as awesome as that.

Spike beckoned the plates. “Ladies and gentlemen, here’s another satisfied client.”

There was something about the sauce, about the garlic and the tomato, something that made it irresistible. “Your mom sells this stuff? Because if she did, I’d become an investor, no questions asked.”

“She kind of cooks for a couple of old ladies from around the corner. It’s nothing big, but they have no one else to turn to,” the other man responded, and he narrowed his eyes. “And wow, Braddock, you’re really into my mom, aren’t you?”

The do-not-touch-my-mom glare was very clear to Sam. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

As if it’d been a joke - even if it hadn’t felt like it - Spike focused on the delicious spaghetti again. “Yeah, I know,” he said, but his silence seemed to reveal another kind of feeling… the need of playful vengeance. “Besides, if you would have started that kind of conversation, I would have been forced to bring up the Jules issue,” he added as he played with the food.

“The Jules issue?” Sam repeated, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, you don’t think no one knows about you two.”

Actually, Sam was hoping that was true. “Well… whatever it was - and I’m not saying it was anything romantic - it’s over. She’s a great woman, but it just didn’t work.”

“You’re taking a break.”

“I didn’t say it was a romantic thing, remember?” Sam clarified.

Spike simply cocked his head, apparently satisfied with the answer. “So it’s just sex.”

“No, it’s not sex!” Sam snapped. It’d be better to stop the conversation before he said exactly what he didn’t want Spike to know “Can we drop the subject, please?”

“Okay… So romance isn’t sex.”

“Not always. It can be holding someone’s hand, it could even be two people just having some pasta and talking, like we’re doing right now… but of course, I’m talking about people who are attracted to each other.”

“Of course…” Spike nodded, taking a deep breath. “So you and Jules aren’t together anymore. Not that you were ever together, I mean.”

“No, we’re just friends.”

“Damn.”

“What?”

Spike’s sad eyes landed on Sam’s. “I owe Lou ten bucks.”

flashpoint fic, flashpoint_sru, genre: slash, pairing: sam/spike, flashpoint drabble

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