Things That Go Bump...

by Dallas Thompson

Archiving: Sure! Just let me know where, please :-)
Disclaimer: Not mine, you know that.
Notes: Props to Tennessee Williams! :-D

Ainsley sat in her office, her shirt sticking to her body, her hair sticking to her neck. This office, she supposed, was like summer at home in North Carolina. Hot, sticky, and never-ending. She sighed, remembering how her Grandma used to lecture her, "Now, Ainsley, horses sweat, men prespire, and ladies glow." Well, she must be glowing like a radioactive experiment gone terribly, terribly wrong.

She heard a door slam, and jumped, "Hello?" she called. There was no answer. She shook her head, and cleared her throat, forcing her attentions back to the memo she was typing. She took a sip of her ginger ale, sighing. "You're getting spooked by your own shadow, Ainsley," her own voice sounded loud and harsh in the office. She turned her small radio on, welcoming the music.

She had managed to push the paranoia aside, and go back to work, when she heard footsteps. "Hello?" She called again. There was again no answer. She stood, and slowly moved to the doorway. "Hello? Who's there?" She slowly walked out into the dark hall, and her office door slammed, plunging the area into pitch blackness. She could hardly breathe, her heart was pounding so hard. "Who's there?!" She cried again, her voice choked.

She turned back to her office door, and closed her eyes when she realized it was locked. "You're an airhead, Ainsley Hayes," she slowly moved for the stairs, screaming when she bumped into someone.

"Ainsley? Are you all right?"

"S- Sam?"

"Yeah. Why's it so dark? I almost broke my neck down those stairs."

"I..." She was scared of the dark. She knew it was stupid, but it was a child hood thing she'd never gotten rid of.

"Ainsley? You're shaking. What's wrong?" He gently put his hands on her shoulders.

"I got locked out of my office, and then the sounds, and I heard you coming, and you didn't answer and..."

He laughed softly, and pulled her into a hug. "It's okay."

"You think it's funny!"

"No," he forced himself to stop laughing, holding her gently.

"Yes, you do!"


"You're laughing at me!"


"You are!"


"Just because I am scared of the dark, that does not mean you get to make fun of-" She was cut off as Sam pressed his lips to hers. There in the dark, he pressed her against the wall, feeling the sweat of her blouse soak through to his dress shirt, and add to his own. He deepened the kiss, slowly exploring her mouth. Electricty crackled through the air, and he felt her run her hands over his chest, feeling his muscles through the damp of his shirt.

He broke the kiss, and moved his lips to her neck, nibbling gently. Her soft moan through the darkness was answer to his silent question of if he should continue. His hands softly stroked down her sides, and he felt her chest heave as she battled for air.


"We can't do this..." he murmured.

"No... Not now."

"You're right," he agreed, moving his lips to the bare skin where the V of her shirt formed. She could barely remain standing, her knees growing weaker with every second.

"Stop..." she whispered. He reluctantly backed away, smoothing his tie.


"Not now, Sam."



"Need help with your office?"

"Yeah... The door's locked."

"Hm," he moved over. "I bet it's stuck, from the humidity." He pushed hard and it opened. "There you go."

"I knew that."



"Bye." He turned to go up the stairs.

"Oh, Sam! What'd you come down for?"

"To ask you to dinner."

"I ate already."

"Yeah. Later, Ainsley."

"Yeah." She watched him go with a soft sigh.


"From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties And things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us!"
-- Tennessee Williams



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