Punch Drunk Crazy

"Tom where are we going?" Sam asked as their cab parked outside of the airport, and he simply smiled at her and got out of the backseat. He held his hand out for her, and despite wanting to be stubborn and not move from her spot until he told her what in the hell was going on Sam took his hand and allowed him to pull her out of the cab. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder, and offered to take Sam's overnight bag but she simply stared at him, waiting for an answer.

So, he pulled out two pieces of paper, and handed her one, and he watched as she opened it, and he said, "I may have lied about Richmond."

Her brows crunched as she scanned the ticket, round trip, and she looked up at him, asking in confusion, "Memphis?"

He shrugged and linked their arms together, telling her, "There's a surprise, just go with it, please, for my sake?"

"But I don't have have like any clothes with me." She told him, but before he could tell her that he had that covered she stopped in her tracks, causing him to nearly pull her down to the ground, before she looked at him and said, "I don't have my passport dummy."

He pulled his out of his back pocket, and moved his fingers to slide a second one out from behind it, and he grinned when she rolled her eyes and he told her, "I told you, I planned a surprise and I thought of everything. I stole your passport, and some clothes, which are in my bag and I had your assistant change your email response and your voicemail message."

"You talked to Phoebe?" Sam asked, brow raised as she followed him into the airport. Tom nodded his head and lead them toward the check in that corresponded with their airline, which was when Sam told him, "There's one thing you didn't account for."

"What's that?" He asked her absentmindedly, more focused on gathering their things that were needed for checking in for their flight.

He nearly dropped the handful of documents when she told him, "That I'm terrified of flying."

He searched her face for some kind of joke, but found none, and instantly he felt like an idiot. How could he not have known that about her? He just assumed, probably because he was so comfortable with planes, that she was. How did he get himself out of this? He felt like his whole date weekend plans were going right out of the window all because he never figured out her stance of airplanes ahead of time.

"Are you serious?" He asked her, praying for her to crack a smile.

She didn't, she simply nodded and told him, "I haven't been on a plane in six years."

How was that even possible?

His cheeks flushed like mad, and Sam could physically see how embarrassed he was as he tried to backtrack, or figure something, anything out to fix this mess. She simply looked at the passports in his hand, and squeezed the hand in hers and told him, "But I'll suck it up."

"Sam you don't have to, we can-"

She interrupted him with a soft smile and said, "I'll suck it up, it's probably about time I did anyway."

"Are you sure? We could just go back to your apartment and pretend we went?" He didn't really want to, he had put so much into this plan, but if it meant Sam being comfortable he would abandon all their plans. She didn't respond, she simply dragged him up to the check in desk, and she watched as he did all of the talking, all of the bag weighing, all the while his cheeks still red.

Once they were through security and sitting side by side by the appropriate gate, Sam turned slightly in her seat, her knee's pressing against his thighs, and she asked, a small grin on her face, "So what exactly is in Memphis that you had to drag me to against my will?"

He laughed, grateful for her attempt to lighten him up after what he deemed the most embarrassing moment of his life thus far, and he told her, "If I told you then I'd have to kill you."

"And I'm too young to die." When she said this Tom's brow raised and he had that amused and surprised half smirk on his face that Sam had deemed long ago was her absolute favorite look on him. Her own brow raised when his half smirk never faded, and she let out a small laugh and asked him, "What?"

"Did you really just quote A Walk to Remember?" He asked her, his voice laced in amusement.

"Do you really know a quote from A Walk to Remember?" Sam countered back with, and his cheeks flushed.

He shrugged his shoulders, "So I've seen it a time or two. I had a crush on Mandy Moore in high school."

"Weren't you like eight when that movie came out?" Sam asked him curiously. She only knew that because she had been fifteen when it came out, and she had worn out the VHS watching it so often.

Tom shrugged and joked, "Who doesn't watch old movies?"

"I think it's cute that your high school crush was in a movie with my high school crush." Sam told him with a smile.

"Don't tell me you had a crush on Shane West." Tom groaned.

"What's wrong with Shane West?" Sam asked with a grin.

Tom simply said, "What's so great about him? He's skinny, and looks like he's twelve."

"First of all, he was like every girls dream growing up. Even now… ooh." When she said this Tom reached our and covered her mouth, which made her tilt her head back and laugh.

When he uncovered her mouth Sam leaned against his side, her head on his shoulder and she snaked her arm underneath his to squeeze his hand, which was when she smiled and stated, "You're a very jealous person."

"Probably." He stated, his cheeks pinking up.

Sam looked up at him and told him quickly, "Oh no, don't take that the wrong way. I like that you get jealous."

"You do? I thought that was like a major turn off." Tom was surprised, he really had thought that all girls hated jealousy, which was why he hated that he couldn't control it all the time.

She shook her head, "Don't get me wrong, you start knocking guys out for even looking at me, then we're gonna have a problem. But I like that you get jealous of little things. It just... I like knowing that you care about me enough to get jealous of another guy who doesn't even stand a chance."

The corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile, and Sam squeezed his hand as Tom asked, "Doesn't matter if the guy is George Clooney or Chris from two floors down... I'm still gonna get jealous of any affection you give him, even if it is just saying he's cute."

"And, call me really crazy, I like that." She said it with a sort of sadness, masked behind a smile, that it made Tom wonder just how she had been treated in relationships before him.

He knew he wasn't the paragon of virtue, in life in general, or in relationships. He had a lot of faults, listen to any of his small number of exes and they could probably triple his own list of them, but, in his opinion, he never tried to hide them. He was crazy jealous, especially with Sam, though he thought that might have more to do with him being worried that she might realize she was wasting her time with him, he was insecure about his feelings, and himself, he didn't put a lot of effort into anything but hockey, something he was actively trying to change now. He avoided things if he didn't want to deal with them, he had a tendency to say all the wrong things and he wasn't very observant. He was sure there were more, but those were the things he was trying to work on, he was trying to be better. He was trying to be the kind of guy Sam would want in her life, not just for her, but also for himself. He genuinely wanted to change, he wanted to the kind of person his parents could be proud of.

Sam nudged her shoulder into his bicep, catching his attention, and it was then that she stood up and held her hands out to him, with a smile she explained, "You tuned out on me, we're boarding."

Hours later Sam found herself dropping onto the large, plus bed of their hotel room, and she let out a laugh when Tom dropped on top of her. He wiggled against her until he got himself situated; leaning mostly on his side against the mattress beside her, one leg wedged between hers, forearm extended and resting on the bed above her head as he leaned over her. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, pushing a few stray strands back in place before he told her, "Thanks for going along with this for me."

She nodded her head and told him, "I was slightly more intrigued by whatever it is that you have planned for us than I was having to fly for three hours."

Tom smiled, "It will be worth it, I promise."

Sam glanced around the hotel room, taking it all in as Tom shifted away from her to do the same. The pictures online hadn't done it justice at all. It had been decorated to look like a cabin, the woodworking on the furniture, and even the walls, was incredible, there was a boarder on the wall made to look like deer antlers. There were large windows, and a set of large French doors leading out to a little balcony. There was a big shower, and a jacuzzi style tub and double sinks in the bathroom, the wood theme carrying throughout.

Curiously Sam asked him, "How'd you find this place?"

"One of the guys, apparently it's connected to a Bass Pro shop so they stay here lots when they're here." Tom told her, he had made sure to book a room that didn't overlook the Bass Pro shop, talk about unromantic.

"It's beautiful." He nodded his head in agreement to her statement.

- - -

"How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don't know where we're going?" Sam called out to Tom from the bathroom while she fluffed her curly hair.

They had slept in, ordered room service for breakfast, and then they had gone and done a few super touristy things; walked downtown Memphis, visited Stax Museum, which Tom had to admit was pretty cool, and then, the icing on the cake for the day was arriving at Graceland. While he was much more intrigued by the cars, he had to admit, this was definitely one for the bucket list. He wasn't a huge Elvis fan, but he could appreciate the music the same way Sam appreciated as much of his music as she could. When in Memphis right?

Tom appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, he leaned against the door frame with a pile of folded up clothing in his hands, and he watched Sam fix her hair with a small smile on his face. He was so quiet that when she turned slightly, and caught sight of him she jumped, hand on her chest and he laughed and said, "Sorry."

"Where did you get those?" Sam asked him curiously, motioning to the clothing in his hands that she knew she hadn't picked out or packed.

His cheeks flushed and he explained, "I may have raided your closet when you weren't home and got one of my teammates girlfriends to approve it."

She smiled gently, and she accepted the pile of clothes before telling him, "That's adorable, and I appreciate the effort but please leave my sight so that I can get ready and we can be out of here on time."

"I'm that much of a distraction?" Tom asked her curiously with a smile.

"When you look like that, yes." Sam told him and she swear she saw him smirk as he pushed off of the door frame and left her sight. Sam wasn't used to seeing him so... dressed up without being dressed up. She had seen him in suits, something she thoroughly enjoyed, and she had seen him in jeans and t-shirts, something she also enjoyed. But this, his dark wash jeans and fitted, collared shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows... this was different. This might have been her favorite version of Tom.

Instead of letting her thoughts linger on how good he looked she unfolded the cream colored, slightly slouchy, cowl neck knit sweater dress, which he had been sure to include a slip for underneath it, just in case. So she pulled on one of the new things she had bought, specifically for this trip, the nude-pink lace bralette with matching underwear. She wasn't sure if Tom had noticed her subtle nod to the joke between them about his new favorite color, but she knew all of the new lingerie was definitely not going under appreciated.

She pulled the slinky cream slip on, and then the sweater dress, pulling her hair out from underneath it and fluffing it up once more before she pulled the sleeves up to her elbows and added a few bracelets. Tom was waiting on the edge of the bed with a pair of her shoes in his hands when she stepped out of the bathroom, and her brows raised at the sight of the slouchy, black suede, thigh high boots she was sure she hadn't worn in a year at least.

He sat her down on the edge of the bed and slipped her feet into the boots, slowly dragging his fingers along her calves as he pulled the zippers up. Finally, when he pulled her into a standing position and stepped back to look at her he grinned and stated, "Damn, I am good."

Sam let out an airy laugh and linked her arm through his, allowing him to guide her out to the front of the hotel to catch a cab. Sam watched as he patted his pockets, double checking that he had whatever it is that he needed for their evening, the evening that Sam still had no clue what was held in store for them during. Still, Tom was so adamant about it being a surprise that she didn't push the subject, she was curious, but not that curious.

Tom pulled open the door to the cab when it stopped on the curb in front of them, and he held it open while Sam got in before he slid in beside her and gave the driver the address of where they were going. Again, Sam didn't ask any questions. She could have pulled her phone out and Googled the address, which Tom was mildly surprised she didn't do. She simply leaned into his side, head on his shoulder, and held onto one of his hands with both of hers.

Tom had to admit, he was enjoying this trip; it seemed that finally he had been able to get Sam out of her head. They were finally in a place where nobody seemed to know either of them, no one knew their ages or anything about them. They could simply be Sam and Tom, a couple who might actually be in love, to anyone who saw them together. He could have balked at the use of the word 'love' but he didn't, he had thrown it out so casually in his head that realistically it should have scared the crap out of him but it didn't. Tom wasn't sure that he loved her right now, but he was sure that he could, some day in the future, maybe sooner rather than later. He was getting there, and he hoped with every fibre of his being, that Sam was too.

Before either of them knew it the cab came to a stop, and much to Sam's displeasure Tom paid the driver but he stepped out first to block her view. He covered her eyes the moment she put both feet on the concrete beneath them, and he carefully turned her around to face whatever building they had arrived at that he had done so much to keep her from seeing before now.

As he removed his hands from her face he said softly, "Surprise."

She looked up, and underneath the name of the theatre, on a long screen, displayed: Norah Jones