Fathers & Sons 1/?
TITLE: “Fathers & Sons” 1/? (maybe 2,3)
AUTHOR: Alexandra K.
RATING: uh, R. I’m a terrible, dirty-minded, bad-mouthed girl. Tsk-tsk.
SUMMARY: summary would give out the plot right away, so we’ll have to do without such…
DISCLAIMER: yeah, yeah, yeah… whatever… All DEK’s. Everyone. Everything. The world - *all* DEK’s… (except the ideas, of course; those are mine)
AN: - It’s not really a *fic*… It’s *not* true (or so I hope), and the situation described here will have no effect whatsoever on my other fics. Just a standalone… I adore Sam (who doesn’t?), and wanted a fic centered on him, but seeing as leaving-coming back fics only go so far, I decided to brew this up… Hopefully the show will not come to this, though it might actually be interesting… However, it’s one of those “irreversible screw-up” scenarios, which aren’t undoable, so it would take a lot of major future planning to actually commit to this “fact” long-term… So I won’t. Just a vignette. Enjoy :)
Am leaving legal details out, as am too tired to think… No court scenes, sorry. Larry’s just on a case… nothing specific…
The title, obviously, comes from I. Turgenev's "Fathers & Sons"...
- - -
Opening one eye and sliding wearily off of Larry, Ally cursed all & everything, especially the much-unwanted caller who was about to hear Ally’s full slang vocabulary in use… “Don’t,” he placed his hand under hers before she was able to reach the phone, grasping her wrist and then, in a second, lowering his lips to her bare shoulder. “Let it ring.”
Ally looked at Larry, then at the phone, then back at Larry, not sure who to listen to. He gently pulled her back onto himself, running his hands up and down the length of her body, pausing at the places he knew she wanted him to pay more attention to, but the tinkering of the phone was beyond all annoyances. Again she reached out and this time picked it up – only to have Larry hang up on the said caller in a split second. She frowned at him; he just raised his eyebrows with a sly smile.
“Larry, I have a thing about telephones…”
“A… thing?”
“I need to answer them… when they ring… Aaah!” Ally was interrupted by the all-too-familiar phone ring, at which point she joyously leapt across the bed and grabbed the receiver while Larry hid his head under a pillow.
“Hello?!” she exclaimed gleefully, frantically trying to fight back against Larry’s kisses & tugs coming from under the comforter. She waited a moment before changing to a duller, less enthusiastic tone. “Yeah…”
She slid the phone to him under the pillow, wondering how long it would take for him to realize it was his call.
“Larry,” she started, but didn’t have to finish.
“Yel-lo?” Larry’s brighter voice peeked out into the sunlit room. She curled up next to him, hugging his free arm, and listened to him listening to some lady blabbering away on the phone – all she could hear was him breathing, deep, relaxed, and very sexy.
“Uh-huh…” he said matter-of-factly. “And, Kelly, you simply couldn’t find a better time to tell me this than… let’s see here…” he glanced across to the nightstand where the alarm clock was, “…7:40 in the morning… How very considerate of you…” There was a short pause before he snapped “Holy shit!” and quickly hung up.
“What’s wrong… and who’s Kelly?” mumbled Ally without opening her eyes, still clutching to his arm.
“Kelly’s a paralegal at Quinston/Torch, and all hell has broken loose…” Larry answered, sitting up and attempting to shake Ally off his arm, which only made her cling tighter to him.
“Quinston/Torch? Isn’t that in-“ Ally started, dreading the word she was about to say. Luckily, Larry silenced her with a finger on her lips.
“Yes. Don’t freak out. Please please please…” he pleaded, cupping her face in his hands, “please don’t freak out…”
She nodded, eyes widening.
“Our flight’s at half past nine…” he added, standing up and making his way over to the dresser.
“Who-wha-wait a minute… *Our* flight?”
“Yes. You’re coming with me.” He replied, buttoning his shirt.
“But I- I mean I –“
“It’s not negotiable. C’mon.”
“But what about-“
“Never mind. You’re coming with me, and you need a ticket, that’s why need to get our asses in gear…”
“Larry-“
“No ‘Larry’ing. Which one?” He held up two ties, asking for her advice. She distractedly pointed at one of them, then continued her objections.
“I have-“
“You have and I have and everyone has. I have work, you have rest, then you & I have sex and a flight home. Okay?” he kissed her cheek, then walked briskly to the kitchen, fully dressed, followed by Ally in a spaghetti-strap nightie. “And you’re *still* not dressed…” he looked at her, mocking disapproval. She rolled her eyes and turned around back into the bedroom.
- - -
“Hi. Any seats left on UA flight 467 to Detroit?” Ally asked the lady at the check-in counter, who seemed to be paying more attention to her manicure than to the customers waiting in line.
“Hey, lady,” Ally snapped sharply at her, causing the latter to drop her nail file.
“Yeees?”
“UA flight 467 to Detroit – any tickets left?”
“There’s… ummm…” she paused, searching the computer system for the information Ally had requested.
“Sorry miss, full flight,” finally replied another, much younger & friendlier lady who was obviously more updated on the booking news. “There’s another flight – with Continental – leaving at 12:00. Will that work for you?”
Ally turned to Larry in desperate plea for help & advice. He nodded. So be it.
“Yeah, that’s, um, fine…”
Once the tickets were printed out and handed to Ally by the now-apologetic manicure-obsessed ditz, arrangements had to be made.
“I’m staying… God, where am I staying...?” he mumbled, rummaging through his papers. “A-ha! The Hilton Central on Oak Drive – room 412. King size bed…” his eyes turned a darker shade of brown, filling her with warmth. “Your flight’s at twelve, placing you in Detroit…” he paused, calculating, “… at 3 - 2 central. I’ll be waiting for you in the Hilton lobby at half past two – okay?” She nodded reassuringly as he put his hands firmly on her shoulders, then pulled her closer to him. “Okay…” she whispered into his shoulder. “When’s the hearing?”
“At 1. It’s just a probable cause, shouldn’t be too long…”
“Okay.”
“Hey, Ally?”
“Mm-hm?”
“You look really gorgeous today…”
“I love you too.” Both smiled.
Maybe an unplanned vacation would be fun after all, despite the fact that it was going to take place in the worst, most spiteful city of the world…
----
“… 15 seconds to door… 10 seconds to door… 5 seconds to door… Door! Lobby!
… no Larry…
…I’m five minutes early. He’s stuck in court…
…Forgivable…
…half past two. Still no Larry…
…maybe the judge scheduled an immediate trial?…
…maybe he’s picking up flowers for me…
…maybe he’s hiding behind that tree…
…no, that’s *definitely* not Larry…
…twenty-five till three. No Larry…
…maybe he’s discussing the case with the client…
…maybe he’s… ordering wine… in that restaurant…
…quarter till… Nada Larry. Zip. Zero.
…maybe he’s lost on the highway?…
…maybe he was speeding to see me and got a ticket?…
…tickets don’t take 15 minutes to get…
…ten till. Where the HELL is Larry?!…
…maybe he was kidnapped by Jamie?…
…maybe she has him locked up in the basement?…
…maybe she’s practicing a Satanist ritual on him?…
…maybe he went to the zoo with Sam and fell into the wild feline cage?…
…why the hell would he go to the zoo with Sam when he’s supposed to meet *me*?!…
… all impossible…
…maybe… Holy fuck. Where is LARRY?!…”
At that moment, Larry entered the lobby. He looked wonderful, but Ally immediately sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t exactly in the brightest of moods, and met her almost coolly.
“Come up with me.” He took her hand and led her to the elevator.
A long and uncomfortable moment of silence fell over them, and when Ally finally gathered together enough courage to ask what was so terribly wrong, the doors opened and a huge delegation of Japanese diplomats lunged towards the elevator. Barely making it through the crowd, they walked hand in hand, silently, towards room 412.
Ally barely noticed the surroundings – all she saw was him, and his eyes – they seemed dull, indifferent towards everything, completely shutting out the world he previously so readily let enter.
“Lar..Larry…” she slowly walked up to him, surprised by the unexpected knot forming in her throat. She tried to take his hand again, but he moved it away and looked out the window.
“Larry…” she tried again, eyes pooled with tears. Why was he doing this? Why was he pushing her out of his life? She was suddenly convinced as ever it had something to do with Jamie. She feared the worst…
“What?” he replied dryly.
“Please…” she gulped back tears. The last thing she needed now, when everything was so perfect, was the end. “Please talk to me…”
“I *am* talking…”
“Larry, don’t do this…” Ally was at once angry and depressed. She didn’t have time to decipher codes, search for clues… she needed his answer…
“Don’t do what, Ally?” he replied, looking sternly at her.
“Larry-“
“She filed for solitary custody while I was in Boston...
The petition was granted.”
Larry’s words cut through the silence like freshly sharpened steel, igniting a million questions in Ally. Questions she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.
His hand reached out for hers and squeezed it gently.
“Why?” Ally finally asked timidly, almost in a whisper.
“That’s what I can’t figure out… What did I ever do to her?”
Another silent moment passed before Ally finally gathered her composure to speak her mind.
“You fell in love with me.”
She felt she was to be held responsible for all of Larry’s problems, for Sam’s unhappiness, for all that is evil and depressing in the world.
“I’m not giving you up for the world…” he answered softly. Ally smiled a little, her heart immensely relieved. Then, taking up the situation from a lawyer’s viewpoint, asked the most worrisome question of all –
“How? Why was she allowed – How did they let her-“
“I’m not Sam’s biological father…”
Ally almost fainted. She tried to produce a meek sound, but nothing came out.
He turned to her, sensing her verbally challenged state.
“Yeah…” he answered her upcoming question.
“Wha-Why didn’t you… Why didn’t you tell me… this… before?” she finally managed to say.
“Gee, I can’t *quite* remember, Ally, but I think a *possible* reason for that might have been that I didn’t KNOW about it!!!” Larry blew up, tossing his hands up in the air. Ally looked down, he fell silent for a moment, then continued…
“I wanted to pick up Sam before I met you, so I stopped by… she asked to see the social worker, said she wouldn’t let me in without one… I had no clue what she was talking about… she cleared up my MANY, as it turns out, misconceptions which I’ve been nurturing over the past 8 years with the help of a little piece of paper called a paternity test, proving what-the-fuck’s-his-name to be Sam’s biological father… I’m extremely amazed at the capacity this woman has to be a complete BITCH…” Larry’s voice trailed off…
“Could you… please… um…” He started again in a tone which made Ally think he was going to say “leave” and had her praying to just about every god known to man for him to say something else.
“…represent me in court?”
Ally’s heart, relieved, returned from its long trip in the direction of her heels back to the place it was initially intended to occupy, and she smiled.
“Yes. Of course.”
“I need my son back…” he said, practically swallowing tears.
“He’s still your son… a test doesn’t change what you’ve been to him, and what’s he’s been to you…” For the first time in a long time, Ally sensed this was the perfect, truthful, most wonderful thing to say. And she was right.
- - -end of Part 1- - -