The X-Project

Late Sunday evening, as Alison comes back to the mansion, Sam appoints himself to make sure she's eating and sleeping. Since she's pretty much done neither in the past week, he sits her down and makes her a sandwich before walking her up to her room and making sure she tries to get some sleep. In the course of events, Alison has a completely unconscious effect on Sam's libido.



The job had been much needed and although it had done nothing to clear her head, at least it had left her pleasantly drained. And considering the possibility of actual sleep that night, maybe. She trotted up the steps to the porch and paused there for a moment, turning around to look at the not quite yet setting sun, tugging off her windbreaker despite the autumn coolness.

Sam had spotted Alison coming up to the porch from where he sat quietly on the railing, leaning his back against the wall and carefully balanced, feet propped up along the railing. He knew that Al had been pushing herself very hard lately, and even harder than usual since the shooting at the Red X blood drive. And he rather suspected she was neglecting to eat. Which was why he had been waiting for her. "Hey, Al," he said softly so as not to startle her.

She held her breath, not moving for a second - and thankfully not yelling at the top of her lungs either. "Hey. I hadn't seen you there," Alison said with a remarkably steady voice, turning around and adding a smile to it all just because it as Sam. Tying the windbreaker around her waist, she ran a hand through her hair, absently spiking it up a bit more haphazardly than usual.

She really looked beautiful like that, all tousled and windblown, with slightly chapped cheeks. Sam swallowed down a random urge to simply take her in his arms and kiss her. "Noticed you've been doin' a lot of workin' and trainin' and such," he said conversationally. "Have you been eatin' regularly?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

She started to answer that and then paused, frowning slightly. Haroun had made sure she'd eaten the night of the shooting - and then Lorna had done the same, keeping her company until she'd headed out for a walk and ended up at the quarry. Alison remembered eating something during the day, but for the life of her couldn't remember what. "I..." she stopped again, looking at his expression with mild surprise. She knew that look.

"Right. That's what Ah thought." Sam reached out and gently but firmly took Alison's hand in his and began to move her toward the door. "You are goin' to follow me to the kitchen and sit down while Ah make sure you have a decent meal." The expression on his face was firm and brooked no dissension. It was touched with a healthy amount of exasperation, and just a hint of Sam's resurgent feelings for her.

It was the oddest thing, really - remniscent of the previous summer despite the cool air outside, of how things had been before. Alison followed obediently, partly from pure surprise at this turn of events, partly because she knew only too well that in one of those rare moods, Sam just wouldn't let up until she did as he asked. "I could eat something, I guess," she offered half-heartedly. She wasn't really hungry but knew eating would be wise.

"No 'could' about it, Al, you're gonna sit yourself down while Ah make you some food, and then Ah'm gonna take you upstairs and figure out some way to make sure you get some sleep, because if Ah know you, you ain't been sleepin' well either. If at all." A raised eyebrow dared Alison to contradict him.

Meep. This is new. She nodded meekly at that - for one thing it was near supper time already anyway and even though she knew it only meant she'd be up in the middle of the night, arguing with Sam about her bed time just then seemed to be a largely unwise thing to do. "Okay." She let him lead her to the kitchen, looking rather nonplussed the entire way.

Upon entering the kitchen, Sam gently sat Alison at the counter and began to putter around in the various counters. "You have any preferences, Al?" he asked her. He figured if she actually expressed an interest in some manner of food, she was more likely to be interested in eating it. Which meant less nagging.

"A sandwich or something like that is fine, thank you," she answered vaguely, shifting a bit before settling down. And then looked guilty - Alison knew she was hardly being helpful but it was hard to settle on anything when you didn't feel like eating. She really did intend to cooperate.

"Sandwich it is," Sam replied cheerfully, with a reassuring smile. "With all the fixin's." He fished out various ingredients and set a variety of options up on the counter, looking across at Alison and putting on his best 'Subway drone' expression. "White or wheat, ma'am?" he asked playfully, trying to draw her out a bit.

She blinked at that, shaken out of her thoughts - and started to laugh at the expression on his face, even as she tried to point at either option, not really caring in the least. "You are so silly," Alison finally managed to breathe out, once the storm of giggles had past.

The giggles were a welcome sight and sound. If Al could laugh and smile, things weren't all that bad. Sam enjoyed Alison's normally sunny disposition, and when she was sad or frustrated, it just made Sam want to fix it somehow. "Rye it is!" he said cheerfully, negligently tossing the packages of white and wheat bread towards the breadbox. "Now for the important question," he said, leaning forward. "What's your pleasure in the way of meat? Ham, turkey, roast beef, corned beef, salami, all of the above?"

Somehow, Alison kept a straight face. "Ham, turkey and salami, please," she confirmed, chocking on another bout of giggling and looking out the window in a desperate attempt not to burst out laughing. She didn't want to explain to Sam how exactly what he'd said could be interpreted. Not in a million years.

Carefully layering ham, turkey, and salami on the sandwich, Sam neatly packaged up each meat as he was through and put it back in the refrigerator. "Cheese?" he asked, indicating the staggering array of cheeses that lived in the mansion refrigerator, from straight cheddar to some unpronounceable French cheese that Lorna stocked.

"Please. Ah...third from the right, two down?" Alison snickered a bit at the impressive layout of options, shaking her head. Clearly Lorna had gone shopping for groceries not long ago. And had cooked. The refrigerator was filled near to bursting and then just a touch more. "I bet you Lorna had a pocket dimension installed in that. And it pushes out a bit more food each time someone takes something."

Sam chuckled. "No bet," he replied. It was good to see Alison smile and laugh at things. He suspected that a little relaxation and silliness were just what the doctor ordered, what with her stress levels of the past week. He dutifully layered some cheese on top of the meat, then stored away all the cheese. The nice thing about the mansion kitchen, in addition to the pocket dimension inside the refrigerator, was the truly impressive amount of counter space. "Now for the _really_ important part," he said, indicating the myriad amount of fixings, from lettuce and tomato to cashew nuts to oil and vinegar to seven different types of mustard.

"Woah." This was almost akin to seeing Lorna prepare a sandwich. In a less 'sharp metallic things whirring under your nose' way. "Go to town," she waved, not really worried about any of the ingredients. Her stomach growled in sudden assent and Alison grinned a bit sheepishly. "Guess I'm hungry after all."

Carefully, Sam layered lettuce and tomato on the sandwich and spread some mayonaise on the top piece of bread. Dijon mustard was squeezed on top of the stack of ingredients before placing the top piece of bread firmly down. "Does this meet with milady's approval?" he asked whimsically. "And would milady care for any potato chips or some other side dish?"

No. No, potato chips were most certainly not appealing for some reason and Alison wrinkled her nose at the thought. "Baby carrots?" she asked pensively, eyeing the refrigerator speculatively.

A grin split Sam's face. "More chips for me, then," he said, setting aside a bag of lime-flavored tortilla chips. Fishing through the vegetable drawer, he finally came up with a bag of baby carrots. Opening the bag, he lay a small pile of carrots on the plate next to the sandwich and placed it in front of Alison. "What would milady care to drink?" he asked, continuing the slightly overdone gallant routine.

Alison laughed at that, snagging a carrot and nibbling on it for a moment as she pondered the question seriously. "Spring water would be suitable," she decided, waving her free hand in a generous 'we might be pleased with this' gesture.

Bowing and scraping elaborately, Sam poured spring water into a glass with ice. "Will there be anythin' else, ma'am?" he asked in a played-up version of his accent as he set the glass in front of her. Grinning, he sat down on a stool, not too close to Alison, but not too far, either. Picking up his bag of chips, he nibbled at one and smiled.

She surveyed her holdings (one sandwich, pretty elaborate, one side of carrots, and a glass of spring water) and nodded slowly. "That'll do!" Holding the carrot she'd been nibbling on wedged between her lips carefully Alison tugged the plate closer with a predatory look. She was very hungry suddenly.

Sam swallowed his mouthful of tortilla chip heavily at the sight of what Alison was doing to that carrot. ~Down, boy,~ he attempted to instruct his libido, but it apparently had other ideas, and he shifted slightly to accomodate a slight bulge, struggling to maintain a neutral impression. "Ah'm glad it meets with your approval," he said lightly, glad to see that suddenly Al was showing an interest in eating.

Alison's entire attention was on the food at this point. Thinking back she realized that yes, she had missed lunch. She still wasn't sure about breakfast though she thought she remembered something about Lorna and pumpkin muffins. Or was that late the previous evening? The previous sleepless evening? She'd made a severe dent in the food Sam had prepared for her before she even realized it, pausing to blink a bit in surprise. "Huh. I was hungry." She licked off a bit of mustard from her fingertip, gazing down pensively at the remains of the sandwich.

Stifling a groan, Sam shivered slightly at the sensuousness of Alison's unconscious movements and reactions. She probably had no idea the effect she was having on him, he thought idly. He was going to need a cold shower, that was for sure. Maybe more than one. Plucking the plate and glass up, he quickly rinsed all of the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. "And now, Miss Alison Blaire," he said, slightly seriously, "you need to get some sleep."

"Yeeess daaad," she drawled out. Damn, there was mustard on her thumb too, and how silly was that considering the little girl thing going on now? Snickering she disposed of that too, before making a face at Sam and getting to her feet.

Okay, cold showers weren't going to cut it. Maybe a dip in the lake. With the temperatures falling as November approached, it ought to be cold enough. "If you're a good girl, maybe Ah'll read you a goodnight story," Sam joked playfully as he slowly directed Alison out of the kitchen and turned off the overhead light.

"Mm, gee, will you tuck me in as well?" she asked with an angelic smile as they walked towards the stairs - and ruined the act by making another face before she hopped the last of the distance, going up a few steps just in case a head start was needed.

"If you like," Sam responded genuinely with an answering smile at Alison's antics. "Especially if it means Ah make sure you get some sleep. Ah'll even stay for a while if it'd help." He suspected the reason Alison hadn't been sleeping much the past few days was the result of bad dreams, and wished there was something he could do to drive them away for her.

Chuckling lowly she started going up the stairs, pausing only once to shoot him a small smile. "I'll be fine, but thanks for the offer," was the simple answer, Alison putting up with the notion of being escorted to her room well enough - it was getting to be habit at this point, really. "Raincheck on that?"

"Sure thing," Sam replied with a reassuring smile. Lord knew he already had enough fodder for his evening fantasies already after Alison's meal. All too soon, they had arrived at Alison's door, and Sam sobered for a moment as he remembered times dropping her off at the same door and kissing her goodnight. Then he brightened again and leaned against the wall. "Ah'm glad you liked the sandwich," he said gently. "You get some good sleep, y'hear?"

She blinked a bit, the pose reminding her of all the other times he'd done that. Just at the same spot too. "I'll be fine," Alison smiled reassuringly, patting his arm lightly. She'd go to bed early, wake up at one point to tuck MIles in bed then probably cat nap a bit more through the night, as was her habit - it worked for her, just as the sleeping for hours on end when she crashed worked as well, after all. "Don't go to bed too late yourself!" she admonished him cheerfully before slipping into her room with a last small wave.