Punch Drunk Crazy

6:23 was illuminated on the clock next to Tom. There was a small crack in the curtains that gave him just enough light to make out that he was most definitely not in his bedroom. Not unless Mike had painted the walls baby pink as a prank.

That was when he remembered.

He turned to his right to find a brunette next to him in bed, covers resting on the middle of her back, hair splayed out on the pillow.

Ari.

He let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. What the hell had he done? Surely he wasn't that desperate or lonely or upset that he ended up here of all places.… right?

Instead of letting himself go down the 'how did I get here' rabbit hole Tom glanced at Ari for a moment before he got up and out of bed carefully. He didn't want to wake her, he didn't want to come face to face with the dumbest decision he had ever made.

He was putting his jeans back on when a movement in the bed next to him caused him to pause. He glanced over to find Ari on her back, her elbows on the bed holding her up slightly. She smiled, "Morning."

"Morning." He mumbled, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

She asked, slightly joking, "Trying to sneak out on me were you?"

Tom forced a smile on his face and he lied to her, "I have practice actually."

"So no breakfast then huh?" She asked him, sitting up and pulling the covers up with her. He nodded slowly and she said, "Rain check then."

"Yeah, some other time." Tom mumbled as he grabbed his wallet and left the apartment.

He made it home in fifteen minutes easy, and when he stepped out onto his floor from the elevator he had to duck almost immediately as two guys lifting a couch nearly clothes lined him.

"Watch it." He mumbled as he headed down the hall again, and he glanced behind him for a moment at the pale blue couch again, he recognized it immediately.

He couldn't help but glance to his right at Sam's apartment as he approached his own. The door was open but she was nowhere to be found, there were boxes everywhere.

As he pushed his own apartment door open, walked in and let it close behind him his brows crunched together. Mike walked out of his bedroom, with bed head and athletic shorts, and as he scratched his head he asked Tom, "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere." He mumbled, tossing his jacket onto the back of the couch before he went directly to the fridge.

As he pulled a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge Mike asked him, "Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure coming home at 7 in the morning wearing last night's clothes signifies you were somewhere."

Tom rolled his eyes and simply told Mike, "So I was somewhere, what's the big deal? Pretty sure I can make my own decisions."

Mike held his hands up in a surrender fashion, and as Tom headed down the hall to his bedroom he heard Mike say, "Look man, just because you're pissed off doesn't mean you can act like a two year old having a tantrum."

Tom ignored it, his only response to his roommate was the sound of his bedroom door closing. He downed a quarter of the bottle of Gatorade and then set it on his nightstand. He shed out of his clothes, putting them in his hamper, and then he left his bedroom and slipped into the bathroom to hop in the shower.

After what was probably the longest shower he had taken in a very long time Tom stepped out onto the matt in front of the shower door, pushed his fingers through his sopping wet hair to get it out of his face and grabbed a towel. He towel dried his hair quickly, before he wrapped the towel around his waist and went back to his bedroom, noting the fact that Mike's door down the hall from the bathroom was shut.

Tom didn't bother putting clothes on, he didn't even bother with underwear he simply tossed the towel onto the floor by the door and dropped into bed, pulling the blankets up to his waist as he moved the pillows around enough to get comfortable. Once he was comfortable; laying on his back, one arm folded under his pillow under his head, the other draped across his stomach, staring at the ceiling Tom let out a breath of air.

He knew Mike was right, he was acting childish. He was being an asshole, he didn't have any right to take his annoyance out on Mike, not when Mike was the only reason Tom was even functioning right now. Mike was the one who made sure he made it to practice, games and the airport on time, that he ate frequently enough, and that played buffer between Tom and the rest of the guys on the team in the locker room so that he didn't do something stupid like start a physical fight in practice that would surely have him, at the very least, benched.

Tom wasn't even sure why he was taking this Sam thing so badly. It wasn't like he shouldn't have seen it coming, and he only had himself to blame. Plus, if he was being really, really honest with himself, Tom totally understood where Sam was coming from. This was easier, and probably better for the both of them. Having to constantly be defending themselves, or explaining things to people just wasn't going to be worth it in the long run, and Tom certainly didn't want Sam to have to hear the kind of things that she had heard in the wives room on a regular basis, it didn't sit well with him.

She was right. This was better. He was free to find someone closer to his age, and Sam was free to be with someone who wasn't a decade younger than her. Probably another lawyer. Probably more loaded than Tom was. A guy who enjoyed wine and jazz, and didn't get so jealous, a guy who understood what Sam did, a guy who she could introduce to her friends and family without having to be worried about what they might think or say. She deserved someone who was everything that he wasn't.

- - -

"Sam? Sam?"

Shaking her head Sam looked up to find her assistant standing in front of her desk with her arms filled with folders. She smiled and apologized, "Sorry, I tuned out."

"It's okay, I was just asking if you wanted me to tell Mitchell that you were gonna take the Michaelson case."

Sam groaned, rubbed her temples and then tucked her hair behind her ears and asked, "Ask him if I can take another day to look over the case files first."

Julie nodded her head, handed her a to-go cup and a brown paper bag and told her, "I picked you up some coffee and a diet soda, and some lunch; sun dried tomato pasta salad and a turkey sandwich from that cafe down the street. I also was in the area and picked up your mail from your old apartment and picked up your dry cleaning, the grey dress pants and the white silk top, for court this afternoon."

Sam let out a breath, "Thank you."

"Oh, and also, your friend dropped these off earlier when you were in a meeting." Julie told her, placing a set of keys on Sam's desk. They keys to her new condo.

With a smile Sam asked her, "Julie, what are we paying you?"

"Twelve an hour." She stated as she hung the dry cleaning bag up in the little stand up corner wardrobe that Sam often kept two or three court appropriate outfits in just in case.

Sam made a little note on her to-do list to talk to Mitchell about raising Julie's salary.

"Is there anything you needed before I go for my lunch?" Julie asked Sam as she made sure to stack her mail on the corner of her desk.

"No, thank you for today. I appreciate it. Have a good lunch, and hey, don't rush to get back here alright? Take an extra half hour or so." Sam told her, glancing up from the piles of paper she was sorting through on her desk to watch Julie smile, nod and leave her office, carefully closing the big glass door behind her.

She wasn't alone for longer than a few minutes when a knock on her office door caused her to nearly jump out of her chair. With one hand on her chest Sam used her other hand to wave the person in, barely even looking up from her papers.

A deep laughter filled her ears when the door was opened, which caused her to look up, she smiled gently and asked "What do you need Dom?"

He motioned to the chair in front of her desk, and she nodded so he unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down. He placed a few file folders in his lap and told her, "I was hoping I could run something by you, get your opinion."

"Okay?" She asked, glancing up for a second to catch his smile before she went back to her paperwork.

"I have a deposition this afternoon... navy or black?" When he asked this Sam looked up again and cocked her brow. He smiled and clarified, "Suit."

She stared at him for a moment, before she cracked a smile, and asked, "You came all the way in here to ask me what color suit you should wear today?"

"Well, I don't know anything about suits, so the treacherous walk across the office was worth it." He told her, chuckling when she rolled her eyes.

"You can't be that bad, your suit your first day here was pretty nice." Sam pointed out.

His cheeks flushed and he admitted, "My sister picked that out."

She laughed, she couldn't help it, and he chuckled as well. She cleared her throat and told him, "Navy, go with navy."

"Thanks." He said, leaning back in her chair before he glanced around her office and commented, "It's nice in here."

"Thanks."

"Just out of curiosity, don't take this the wrong way, but how does a brand new employee get their hands on a corner office?" His intense gaze was on her, and Sam felt her cheeks pink up.

Sam told him, "I'm just that good of a lawyer."

He laughed, "I already knew that."

She didn't tell him that she had gone to law school with Mitchell, one of the partners of the firm. She always left that part out, even though she was sure everyone in the office knew about it, it wasn't as if he hadn't hugged her the moment she walked in for her interview, or that her interview had been a total of three hours longer and filled with mostly catching up. She just preferred to keep her mouth shut about it, she tried her best to keep her personal life out of her work life.

"So, are you single?" This caught Sam off guard, and she choked on her mouthful of coffee. Dom chuckled at her reaction and explained, "There's been some whispering around here about you having a boyfriend, but you never seem to leave your office much anymore."

"Not that it's really any of your business but no, I do not have a boyfriend." She told him.

He clearly wasn't bothered by her attempt to shut him down, he simply grinned over at her and said, "So I can ask you to dinner then."

"You can, but I won't say yes." Sam told him, adding in honestly, "I don't date co-workers."

"Not yet you don't, I'll wear you down. You'll say yes eventually, and it will be the best date of your life." Dom told her as he got up and buttoned his suit jacket again.

Doubtful. Sam thought as he headed to the door.

"Good luck today in court." He told her, smiling over at her once more before he left her office, pulling the door shut behind him.

- - -

Hours later Sam was dragging herself down the hall and up to the door of her new condo, keys in hand. She had a bag filled with Thai food hanging off of her left arm, and a bottle of wine in a paper bag tucked under the same arm, and with her left hand she turned the keys in the lock and pushed the door open.

Paula's brother had been kind enough to move some of her things over that morning while she was at work. A few boxes and some big furniture; her couch, and coffee table, as well as her bed, which was taken apart and the pieces were leaning against the wall in the living room. So Sam looked over a few of the boxes on the kitchen peninsula and opened one to pull out a wine glass and a quark screw before she spread out on the living room floor.

She opened the bottle of wine and filled her glass, and at dinner in silence on the floor, back leaning against the couch.

When she was done eating she cleaned up, and she stood at the bottom of the spiral stair case, bottle of wine in hand with the glass long forgotten by the sink, and looked over the new, empty condo. She sighed and trudged up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom, where her boxspring and mattress had been left in the middle of the room. She put sheets on the bed, and pillow cases on the pillow, and she unfolded a blanket from the bag she had Paula's brother bring over and then she sat down on the middle of the bed with her legs crossed and sighed.

She took a drink, right from the bottle, and wondered how she had gotten here. Running away from her problems wasn't a Sam thing. That was the one bad habit she was really, really good at not doing.

And yet here she was, moving to another city, even if it was only fifteen minutes away from her old place, just to not have to accidentally run into an ex in her apartment building.

She was making all of these big changes in life, and ignoring the ones she really needed to make; her self-assurance had never been the greatest, but it had taken a beating while she was with Tom and she would never blame that on him, it was all her. He, in fact, did everything he could to help her with it, but at the end of the day she let what everyone but him and her thought dictate her decisions.

Sam couldn't remember the last time she had been happy, before Tom. Months, years? It was Tom who had pulled her out of that funk so to speak and made it so that she finally started to enjoy life again, she laughed more, and she found herself smiling more. He had made her inexplicably happy, and how had she repaid him for it? She dumped him.

She had dumped a perfectly great guy, for no reason other than she was afraid of what people thought of them together.

What the hell was the matter with her?