Punch Drunk Crazy

For what felt like the fourth or fifth time that week alone Tom found himself sitting in the living room of Mike Richard's condo with a beer in his hand watching some movie he really didn't have interest in. Since their talk the week before on the road Tom found himself more and more intrigued with his new teammates advice and his own personal situation. 

He was constantly asking questions. Tom wasn't sure where he stood on the 'getting Sam back' wagon, but he knew that every time he talked to Mike he was just a little bit closer to getting up and driving into the city and showing up at her work right then. 

"So, I mean... what was...do you ever regret what happened with Kelsey?" Tom asked Mike curiously. 

Over the last week he had heard many stories about their relationship, like how they met and how, much like Tom and Sam, they had kept their relationship to themselves for a while because they knew how it would look. But the one thing Tom hadn't had the balls to ask him was if he regretted the way things ended

Mike shrugged his shoulders, "Yes and no."

"What do you mean?" Tom asked him, brow raised.

"Do I regret doing what I did, and hurting her like that? Yeah. But... that whole cliche 'the one that got away' thing, that was Norah for me." Mike told him honestly.

Tom's brow raised again and he asked, "Is that the girl you keep disappearing on the road to call?"

Mike chuckled, "Yeah, that's her. I'm trying to convince her to come out here to visit."

"So, basically you dicked around on your current girlfriend with your ex girlfriend and you got the girl of your dreams back doing it?" Tom asked him, and when Mike shrugged his shoulders Tom joked, "Son of a bitch. I hate you."

Mike laughed, gave his shoulder a clap and told him, "You'll figure it out man. You're young."

"That's the problem." Tom muttered. 

"Look dude, it's different for us. We get with a girl younger than us it's totally fine, normal even. We get with a girl older than us and we're on top of the world with all of our friends. It's different. It's not even close to the same thing for women. If he's too old then she's gotta be in it for money, if he's too young then it's considered creepy and weird. It's just how it is. It's not right, but it's how it is. So when I say you're young and you'll figure it out, I mean it. Maybe she's the one for you, maybe she isn't, it's not something you're gonna figure out over night unless you already know the answer." Tom was silent, which surprised Mike. So he turned his head toward his younger teammate and asked him curiously, "Do you? Already know the answer?"

Tom sighed, shrugged his shoulders and he pushed a hand through his long hair. He then admitted, "Honestly, yeah. I'd marry her tomorrow if it meant I got her back, that I get to spend the rest of my life with her."

"Have you told her that?" Mike asked him, brow raised.

Tom shook his head, "No."

"Maybe you should."

- - - 

Sam had her arms filled, and she was rolling a suitcase set down the hall toward her condo door with her foot as she walked. She nearly dropped everything when she reached into the pocket of her jacket for her keys, but she caught herself. She leaned the things in her arms between her body and the wall as she skillfully unlocked the door, propped it open with her hip and slid the suitcases into the condo. She placed the items in her arms on the kitchen peninsula and then she looked around the condo and her eyes raked over the pile of things she had dragged up from her car and she sighed.

She placed her hands on her hips for a moment before she loaded her arms up with the things that needed to go upstairs, and she dragged the suitcases behind her up the stairs, they made a thunking noise with each new step on the staircase before finally hitting level ground and rolling behind her. She brought the things into her bedroom, and placed them by the door of the closet, before she sat down on the bed and let out a breath of air. 

Sam had spent a week and a half doing nothing but sleeping in, ordering take out and catching up on TV shows after packing up her office and coming home. While she enjoyed it at the time, she found herself getting bored easily. Which was how she had ended up on Expedia for hours, and how she had booked flights to Germany, to visit Paula for two whole weeks, and from there she would spend a few days in Turkey for a Jazz festival, three days in Prague, and then a whole week in Buenos Aires before she would come back to Washington and figure out what to do next with her life. 

She had never had the opportunity to travel, between school and then work she never had the time. Now that she had all the time in the world, quite literally, she was finally going to make use of it. In a week she would be boarding a plane and doing the one thing she had been wanting to do for years. Going alone wasn't exactly perfect, but there was something oddly cathartic about the idea of getting lost in some foreign country, it was almost a romantic comedy cliche; like maybe if she got lost over there she could find herself. 

At least that was what she was hoping. 

She had more than enough savings to get her through several months of not working but if she was bored out of her mind a week and a half in, Sam knew the unemployed life wasn't for her. She just wasn't sure that the lawyer life was for her either, and she certainly wasn't sure what was anymore. Maybe she needed to get a hobby. 

Or maybe she needed to get a life. 

The latter was probably more accurate, but the former was much easier to achieve. 

A knock on her door caused Sam to jump in surprise, and her brows crunched together as the knocking bordered on incessant as she bounded down the stairs and toward the door. She muttered, "Alright already, keep your pants on."

When she pulled the door open to find Paula standing on the other side with a small suitcase beside her and a big grin on her face Sam's brow raised high. Paula wrapped her into a hug and said, "Surprise!"

"You don't say." Sam stated, glancing in confusion to Paula's suitcase, before looking up at her and asking, "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come visit, and then we could just fly back to Berlin together. I couldn't wait another week." Paula told her with a grin, before she asked her, "Are you gonna let me in to see this amazing new place or no?"

Sam let out a small chuckle and she stepped aside to let Paula in. She followed her around and watched as Paula took in the condo, both floors, before they ended up back in the living room and Sam asked, "So?"

"So... this place is pretty great... but it's so... white." Paula stated, motioning around, "Look; white walls, white moulding, a white kitchen."

"Yeah, it needs some paint. I just haven't figured out any colors honestly." Sam stated, her cheeks flushed as she too looked over her condo. She had been here for a while, and had yet to even put any art up on the walls. 

Paula wondered if that had anything to do with Sam subconsciously thinking she wasn't going to be staying here very long.

Paula wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulder and told her, "We'll order in, drink some wine and shop online for things to spruce this place up with."

"That sounds like heaven." Sam stated honestly, dropping onto the couch before telling Paula, "Take out menu's are in the drawer next to the fridge, wine is in the fridge glasses are above the sink." 

"You're supposed to be the host." Paula stated with a laugh as she walked into the kitchen to gather their supplies for the night. She pulled the drawer next to the fridge open and sifted through the take out menus, finding an alarming amount of them. She called out to Sam, "You good with pizza? God I miss American pizza. If there is one thing this country got right, it's pizza."

Sam let out a laugh and told her, "Yeah, pizza's fine with me."

So Paula brought over two bottles of wine, along with two glasses, before she went back into the kitchen to order them dinner. Finally, when their pizza was ordered and she was back on the couch next to Sam, Paula glanced at her and asked, "Can I ask something without you getting upset?"

"You can try." Sam said with a small smile.

"Why haven't you gone to talk to Tom yet?" Paula asked, and when Sam sighed she was quick to say, "I just don't get it."

"What's there to get? Things are over, what's the point in showing up and throwing his life for a loop again?" Sam asked her curiously.

"Uhm, because you love him that's why." Paula stated, grabbing the couch pillow beside her and hitting Sam in the face with it.

Sam rolled her eyes, nudged Paula with her shoulder and said, "I never said I loved him."

"You never had to say it babe, it was so obvious. That's why I don't get what you're still doing here in this condo, alone with twenty-five take out menus in your drawer." Paula stated, and Sam sighed gently.

"Okay, so yeah, I do love him... but what happened,happened. I'm not gonna be that girl, that breaks up with a guy and then goes crawling back begging for forgiveness after. I can't be that girl. It's better this way." Sam told her softly.

Paula surprised her by saying, "Bullshit it is."

"It is." Sam argued.

Rolling her eyes Paula stated, "Tell me one time, once in your life when you were as happy as you were with Tom and I'll drop the subject right now."

Sam hesitated, before she let out a breath of air and kept her mouth shut. She couldn't answer, because she couldn't lie to Paula. She was right; with Tom was the happiest she had ever been. There were so many reasons, so many things about him that made her so, so incredibly happy, and she was throwing it away all because she had too much pride to apologize and fix things with him. 

"You can't even do that." Paula stated, and Sam nodded her head slowly in agreement. With a small sigh Paula reached out and wrapped her arm around Sam's shoulders, pulling her into her side and resting her head on top of hers before she told her, "You gotta tell him Sam. Don't wait too long, because eventually the moment goes away and then it's really, really too late. Fix things while you still have a chance."

"I'm not sure I'd even know where to start, or what to say to him." Sam admitted sadly. It was something she had been thinking of for a while now, she had drafted so damn many apology speeches, she had gone over and over every scenario in her head of what might happened, and yet she could never settle on one. The tone wasn't right, the wording didn't sound right, it's too long, it's too short. She convinced herself not to bother every time she thought about it.

"How about you start with 'I'm sorry, can we talk?' that might be a good start you know." Paula told her with a chuckle.

Sam rolled her eyes but she too chuckled, and she told Paula, "Easier said than done."

"Anything worth doing is never easy."

- - - 

Tom stood in the elevator to Sam's office building watching the light move from number to number as the elevator pulled itself up to the twelfth floor slowly, although entirely too fast for his liking. He was sweating, his legs felt like jello and he felt like he was likely about to make an absolute idiot out of himself. When the elevator came to a stop and the doors spread open he wiped his palms against his jeans and stepped out, turning left and walking through a set of double, frosted glass doors on them. 

He approached a blonde sitting behind the counter, and she looked up at him, smiling brightly, "How can I help you?"

He cleared his throat and said, "I'm looking for Sam."

"Sam?" She asked him, brow raised.

His cheeks flushed, "Montgomery."

Her face changed; the smile morphed into a small frown and she gave him an awkward expression before she told him, "She actually no longer works here."

"What?" He was panicking. 

The blonde nodded, "Yeah, she left us about two weeks ago. All clients are being distributed around, so if you have a preference you could let me know and I'll put you down."

Tom shook his head, "No, I'm not a client. Uh... did she leave like... an address or something? Somewhere I could reach her?"

She shot him a weary look, "No she didn't."

"She knows me, I swear." He was desperate, he would try anything. When the blonde shook her head again he sighed.

"Really, I'm not lying she didn't leave any forwarding address." 

"Alright, thanks anyway." Tom mumbled as he turned around and headed back toward the elevator. 

There goes that plan.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He had no way of contacting her, he had tried her number the day before but had discovered that either she had changed her number or she had forgotten to pay her bill, the latter was highly unlikely. She didn't leave a forwarding address with their landlady, Tom had spent twenty minutes trying to get it out of her just to find out she hadn't even left one. They didn't have any mutual friends that he could call and find out from, and even if he had her number Tom was sure Lauren wouldn't even take his call.

Showing up at her office had been his last resort, and now even that was a dead end. How could someone move fifteen minutes away and practically fall off the face of the earth?

When he arrived home Mike turned to glance at him over the back of the couch, grinning when he asked, "Do I know you?

Tom rolled his eyes but smiled, "Yeah yeah, I get it, I haven't been around much."

"You said it." Mike stated with a laugh. After a few seconds Mike asked, "Where have you been anyway?"

"I just went by Sam's work." Tom stated, and he wasn't surprised when Mike reached forward and paused the TV, before he turned back to Tom with a raised eyebrow.
"And?"

"And..." Tom started, pausing for a moment before he let out a breath of air and said, "And she quit her job two weeks ago."

"Holy shit."

"Thanks dude." Tom muttered.

"Sorry... it's just... damn."

Tom nodded his head slowly and started ranting, "And she didn't even leave an address or anything if anyone needed to reach her. Not there and not with our landlady. So basically I have no fucking way of getting in contact with her even if I wanted to."

"Try calling her dumbass." Mike stated.

Tom narrowed his eyes, "I already tried that dumbass. She changed her number."

Mike rolled his eyes and stated, "Well... then... I don't know."

"I know. I'm fucked." Tom muttered.

Mike jumped up from the couch and ran around to the kitchen. Tom glanced over the back of the couch with a raised eyebrow as he watched Mike grab a folded up piece of paper from the counter and bring it back to him. He held it out and said, "This was slid under our door this morning while you were gone. I have no idea what it means, but maybe I do now."

Tom's brow raised even higher as he looked at the front of the paper, he didn't recognize the writing.

You're welcome.

He flipped it open to find a Washington address written neatly inside it, and he stared at it for a moment, brows furrowed together before he looked up at Mike and asked, "You don't think this is..."

Mike shrugged, "Only way to find out is to go."

Mike's brow raised when Tom didn't immediately jump from his spot on the couch to leave the apartment. Tom stared down at the piece of paper in his hands and sighed, before he placed it on the coffee table and said, "I can't go there."