acontrollist | A Twisted Up Frown, Disguised As A Smile

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A Twisted Up Frown, Disguised As A Smile

Rachel isn't one to make impulsive decisions. She usually takes as long as possible to think things through, weighing the pros and cons of each outcome.

She obviously didn't do that tonight, since she's standing in Sam Evan's doorway, a bottle of vodka in her hand.

Honestly, she doesn't know what else to do. Ever since she hung up that picture that Sam drew of her a month ago, she and Bradley have been doing nothing but fighting (and having makeup sex, but that's neither here nor there). Tonight was the worst though. There was screaming, name calling (whore was thrown both ways) and one of her favorite crystal vases is still sitting in 3 pieces on her kitchen counter. It probably didn't help matters that as soon as Bradley had left ("Where are you going?! We're not finished talking about this!" "Out. Don't wait up.") Rachel did the only thing she could think of, which was calling Sam, who'd told her to just come over.

She's not even sure how the vodka came into play, but getting drunk sounds really good right now.

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Sam frowns at the hotel idea. The last thing she needs is to feel like she's alone right now in New York when she's recently found out she's carrying a baby. Maybe his apartment isn't the biggest and he'd never been to her place with Bradley for obvious reasons but it sounded swanky...

"Rachel, please, just come stay with me..." Turns out he doesn't need to beg her because she's already agreed.

"It's fine," he tells Rachel when she's on her doorstep with so many bags he's lost count. He's glad she's got it all now so like she said, she doesn't have to go back to that jerk. He gets out his wallet and tips the cabby (generously, since there are so many bags that look quite heavy), then carries her stuff into the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

"C'mere." He pulls her into a hug with a sigh. It's been a long day.

She doesn't start crying again, thank God (though she feels like she could), folding her arms around him and clinging for a good while, sniffling. "Thank you. You shouldn't be in this position, but thank you. So much." Her hands fist in the back of his t-shirt and she takes a deep, shaking breath. "I'm sorry I'll be clogging your living room with my bags." She laughs, a little watery, pulling back to survey the room.

"I think you forgot the kitchen sink," he teases her. "It's fine. Honestly, it's not a problem at all. We'll find room for your stuff tomorrow..."

For now, he just wants her to rest. "You can have my bed." He'd take the couch. "You should get some sleep. You look exhausted."

"No, Sam, I can't do that." Rachel shakes her head. "I'll take the couch, it's fine." She can't deny she's tired though, stifling a yawn. "I can't put you out anymore."

"You're not putting me out. You're sleeping in my bed and that's final." He takes her hand in his and pulls her towards his bedroom whether she likes it or not. "If you sleep on the couch, I'll just pick you up when you're sleeping and move you into my bed anyway. So just do as you're told."

"Well then we'll share it." She takes her hand back, folding her arms. "I'm not making you sleep on the couch. You're doing enough for me as it is and I can't kick you out of your room too."

Sam can tell her mind has been made up about this. At least he's got her to agree to sleep in his bed and if it's at the price of him joining her then so be it. It's just that the last time they were in his bed together, they were naked. And Sam's afraid he's going to end up cuddling her in his sleep, something she might not want.

"Are you sure it's such a good idea?" Sure, they're friends. Friends can sleep in the same bed together. But they'd crossed the line of friendship the other day and they can never go back.

"Sam, we're adults. Adults can share a bed." She rolls her eyes. And okay, she's not entirely sure that she can sleep in a bed with him without cuddling (he's the first person she's cuddled with in like a year), but Rachel's known for her game face if nothing else.

She was right. They were adults... Except the reason she was pregnant was because they'd acted like irresponsible adults.

Nonetheless, he gives up arguing with her. "Fine. I'll give you time to get ready." Just because he's seen her naked doesn't mean she's comfortable getting changed in front of him, so he grabs some pajama pants to wear and leaves the room. Usually he sleeps in just his boxers since he can get hot in the night, but he thinks it's probably safer if he wears more layers.

The bag she carries on her back has her pjs in it, so she heads into his room to change into her NYU t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Sitting the bag aside, she heads into the living room. "Sam? I changed...I thought maybe we could order some takeout? I'll pay but I'm suddenly famished..."

Sam looks up from the couch where he's sitting in a pair of Batman pajama pants (some things never change, including his dorky taste in bedwear). His chest is on show but he doesn't think it matters, not expecting her to perve on him.

"Sure thing..." He fetches some takeout menus for her along with the phone. "What are you hungry for?"

He's probably not expecting it but she does it anyway, just a tad. Blushing, she turns to look at the television instead of at his chest, taking a deep breath before she turns to look at him again, holding her composure. "Chinese sounds wonderful, right now. Unless you're in the mood for something else..."

Naturally his mind wanders somewhere else at her sentence for just a moment, and then he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "Chinese is fine by me... Do you want what you usually have?" They've had enough takeouts together for him to predict what she'll order.

"Yeah, that sounds fine." She takes a seat on the couch, crossing her legs in the cushions as she leans forward to grab the remote, turning the television on. "So...tomorrow. I have to go see my OB..."

Sam's on the phone for a couple of minutes, placing their order which will be delivered in twenty. Once he hangs up he's sitting on the couch again, trying not to think about what happened the last time they sat on his couch together as he leans his head back. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye when she mentions her OB appointment. "Want me to come with you?"

She shrugs, glancing at him out of the corner of her own eye when he asks. "I dunno...do you...do you want to come with me?"

"Yeah," he replies softly. He wants to be there for every doctor's appointment. Even if the baby turns out not to be his, he still wants to be there because she's his friend.

"Is that picture I drew of you in one of those bags?" he asked with a small smile.

The statistical likelihood of this baby being Sam's is slim to none, and Rachel knows that. But she can't help feeling like maybe, if Bradley was a little more like Sam, they wouldn't be here. She can't help hoping that this baby defies the odds and comes out with blonde hair and blue eyes..."Okay." She smiles a little. "Okay. 9am."

She nods, pointing to a hardcover suitcase. "In that one. On top."

"You'll have to wake me up in time." He'll set an alarm just in case but there's always a risk of him hitting the snooze button and oversleeping.

He goes over to the suitcase, unzips it and pulls out the framed drawing. Taking down a photo of New York from the wall, he replaces it with the pencil drawing of Rachel and sits back next to her on the couch, remembering how great that day was with Rachel, sitting in a boat with her, floating across a lake in Central Park.

"I've missed hanging out with you," he admits because they haven't done it in weeks, not since you-know-what and it feels nice just sitting with her and waiting for their takeout to arrive like old times.

"Of course I will." She nods, unable to fight the brilliant grin growing across her face.

It only gets wider when he frames the picture and she can't help the burning in the corners of her eyes. This isn't fair. This isn't right. Everything she wants is always right on the tips of her fingers and she can never-

"Why couldn't Bradley have been more like you?" She sniffles in response before she can stop herself.

Sam's confused because she's both smiling and crying, though it's not unusual to see her doing both at the same time.

Sighing at her question, he wants to ask her why she wants Bradley to be like him when she could just have the real thing...

He doesn't, of course. "He's an idiot. I don't know how he could cheat on you... You're everything a guy could ever want."

She shakes her head. "Its not just that. And let's not be delusional here, I cheated on him too, I just...I just wanted someone good. You know? You're so-...you're good to me, wonderful and so sweet and I just-...nevermind." She stands, wiping at her cheeks. Fucking hormones... "I'm sorry. That's out of line..."

He feels helpless as he watches her stand, drying her face. He wants to comfort her but the last time that happened... bad things happened.

"Nice guys finish last," Sam says quietly. "It's why you're attracted to someone like Bradley and not me."

"Don't be silly, Sam. Of course I'm attracted to you." She sighs, rubbing both hands over her stomach. "Just...none of this is fair."

He watches her rub her stomach before he stands up and puts his palm over hers that's on her belly. It's probably too early in the pregnancy for much to have formed inside her womb but he hopes she appreciates the gesture.

"I know you're scared the baby is gonna have a dad who doesn't want them..." Assuming Bradley turned out to be the father. "But if it's any consolation, I'll love them like they're my own."

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