Infinity

TITLE: Infinity (18/?)

AUTHOR: Master F&M

FANDOM: Law and Order: SVU

RATING: Everything from PG to R—just like life.

SUMMARY: A Fin fic— to give him a life that the show refuses to give him

DISCLAIMER: L&O: SVU and all charcharacters belong to Dick Wolf, NBC, and whomever

                          else puts the show out for our enjoyment. I just get to play with them.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

FEEDBACK: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

-----------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 18

            Sam awoke before dawn, as was usual for her. But instead of starting her morning
routine, she allowed herself the luxury of laying in bed and thinking about Fin. Odafin. Odafin
Tutuola. She laughed at herself. She knew she was being silly, but she didn’t care. She was
happier than she could remember being in quite some time.

            She smiled as she thought about being with him the night before at the club. It had
happened so easily. There was no big moment or meaningful conversation to mark the beginning
of their relationship. They just knew and then were. It was one of the things that kept her in awe
of him: How they seemed to just flow together. With the exception of her uncle, she hadn’t ever
had this kind of connection with anyone.

            Sam climbed out of bed at the thought of Munch. He had managed to show up last night
after all. He even had the mysterious Tori with him.

            Victoria hadn’t exactly been what Sam expected. It turns out that she’s the owner of the
art gallery where she and John met. Apparently, he had wandered in one day when he was off on
one of his ventures to familiarize himself with the city’s culture. Instead, he had familiarized
himself with her. Though she exhibited all kinds of work, her personal taste tended to run toward
the more modern stuff.

            Sam could have figured that out by the funky jewelry she wore. Her clothes were nice,
but thouthought a little too young for someone her age. In her mid-forties, she had dressed in a
miniskirt and sleeveless top. Not that she didn’t look good, Sam conceded, but still . . . She
wore her hair long and sort of shaggy, and Sam thought she counted three earrings dangling from
her right ear. It was not at all the image of a woman she would have picked for her uncle.

            John, however, seemed enthralled. So much so that he never once made any snide
remarks about her and Fin, even though she knew he must have seen them together; he and Tori
met them as they came off the dance floor.

            In all fairness, Sam to to admit that at least she did appear to be intelligent. She was
even impressed with some of the things Tori had to say. At one point in the evening, Munch had
made a couple of philosophical statements, and Tori had followed them with a couple of her own.
That was a big departure from the blank looks he usually got from his bobbleheads.

            Sam made her way to the kitchen and poured a glass of juice. Sitting at her table, she
tried to put her finger on what it was exactly about Tori that bothered her the most. She decided
it was how familiar Tori seemed with her. Munch mentioned that he might have left if Tori hadn’t
pointed them out to him. How could Tori have done that since she’d never actually met either Fin
or herself before? Had Munch felt comfortable enough with her to share photos of Sam and his
partner, while Sam herself wasn’t afforded even an introduction to Tori until now? She didn’t
like the implications of that at all.

            She picked up her phone to give Munch a call, when it rang in her hand.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey.” The sound of Fin’s voice traveled through the phone and warmed her to hoes.oes.

            “Hey yourself,” she smiled into the phone. “I was just thinking about you. Well- a little
while ago, anyway.”

            “Something more interesting come along?”

            “There’s no such thing,” she said sweetly. “Actually, I was thinking about Tori.”

            “You didn’t seem to care for her much.”

            “Was it that obvious?”

  
#160#160;        “It was to me. I don’t think she picked up on it, though.”

            Sam thought back to the evening. “Can you really blame me? Didn’t she bug you, too?”

            She could practically see Fin shrug. “She seemed okay to me.”

            “Are yoddindding? Didn’t she remind you of an aging hippie, with that hair and jewelry?”

            Fin snorted. “I could say that about your uncle.”

            “Okayt dit didn’t it bother you at all that she knew all those little things about us when we
know nothing about her?”

            Fin was quiet for a moment. “That wouldn’t exactly be her fault, Sam.”

            She thought about it. “I guess not.” Still, it was easier to dislike Tori than to be mad at
Munch. “I just wish she were a little more. . .”

            “More what?”

            “A little more June Cleaver and a little less Alanis Morrissette.”

            Fin chuckled. “Lucky for him, then, you don’t get to decide.” Sam remained quiet.

            “You have dinner plans for tonight?”

            “Nope. Are you offering?” She knew she would have cancelled them even if she had.

            “I thought I’d make you dinner at my place. You interested?”

            “Gee, I don’t know. What’s for dessert?” Fin laughed out loud at the innuendo. Sam
thought it had a lovely ring to it.

            “I think I’ll leave that one up to you,” he answered.

            “Okay, then I’ll be there. What time?”

            “Six. And it’s formal.”

            “Dinner at your place is formal?”

            “Yup. We might go out afterwards. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

            “You’re so full of yourself. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. See you at six.” She hung
up, then sat back thinking about it. She probably wouldn’t mind being full of him herself.

...........................................................

            Fin took a final look in the mirror before leaving his room. Relax, Tutuola. It’s not like
you haven’t had dinner with the girl before, he reasoned with himself. But he knew this time was
different. This was a date; something he hadn’t done in nearly two years.

            He walked into the kitchen to check on dinner. He’d thought about making the souffle he
usually did when he wanted to impress a girl, but that didn’t seem right. He’d used it too many
times in the past. Instead, he chose his grandmother’s lasagne, complete with the Tutuola secret
ingredient. He knew she liked Italian.

            He went to the door when the bell rang and opened it. A smile crossed his face as he took
in the sight of his date.

            “Aren’t you going to let me in?” Fin stepped back to give Sam room to enter.

            “I hope this is formal enough for you.” She’d chosen a form-fitting black dress. Its
neckline was high enough to be modest, yet low enough to excite the imagination. She did a turn
for him. She knew the dress accentuated the parts of her he liked best.

            “You like?”

            Fin swallowed hard. Hoping his voice sounded natural, and glad he’d opted to wear
loose-fitting slacks, he answered.

             “I guess it’ll do.”

            Sam laughed and went to him. Putting her hands on his chest she leaned into him. Fin
loved that she wasn’t afraid to take the initiative with him.

            “I’m glad you like it.”

            She began to kiss him, but he moved his head away and peered at her. “I don’t kiss on the
first date. I ain’t that kind of guy.”

            He let her wonder for a few minutes if he was serious or not, then moved toward her
again. “But I guess I can make an exception in your case.”

            He gave her a light kiss then pulled away. He didn’t want to get overheated before dinneren ben began. He’d decided while he was preparing the meal that ‘dessert’ should be ice cream.
He wasn’t in any hurry to move things along. Of course, if she had other ideas . . .

            Fin took Sam by the hand and led her to the table. After seating her, he draped a white
towel over his arm and began reciting the items on the menu for tonight’s dinner. He knew he
couldn’t consistently afford the places that she was probably used to, and didn’t want to try.
Once in a while, sure, but not every time they went out. He decided to do his best to try and at
least make their dates interesting, and hoped it would be enough. She didn’t seem to be the type
that needed to be seen.

            He served the dinner and sat down to join her. Sam wasted no time digging into the
lasagne.

            “What is that?” she asked after a couple of bites.

            “What?”

            “That flavor. There’s something in here I’ve never tasted in lasagne before.” She took
another bite. “It’s really good. What is it?”

            “Can’t say. It’s a Tutuola family secret.”

            “Right.”

            “Nah, really. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She made me promise, when she showed me
how to make it, not to tell anyone outside the family.”

            “Oh, come on. I made you an honorary Munch.”

            “And when I make you a Tutuola, I’ll tell you.” Fin caught what he’d said and wanted to
kick himself.

            Sam smiled serenely at him. “Then I guess I’ll wait.”

            After dinner Fin took Sam to a concert in the park. She was surprised at how much he
knew about classical music, and was charmed by it as well. It was yet another side of him she
doubted anyone knew existed.

            The phone was ringing when they got back to his apartment. Motioning that he wouldn’t
be long, he took the call in another room, where it lasted longer than he’d expected. When he
returned to the living room, he found Sam laying on the sofa pretending to be asleep and snoring
loudly in a not-so-silent protest of the amount of time he’d spent on the phone.

            Fin approached the sofa laughing softly. She was so amazingly cute. He leaned over her
and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. She swatted at him as she would a fly then continued
her snoring. Small pecks to her cheek and lips produced similar reactions.

            Fin moved to the end of the sofa and removed her sandals. He tickled her feet and was
rewarded with a small smile. He ran a hand down the length of her calf then up her dress, past her
knee and onto her thigh. The snoring stopped immediately.

            He smiled, then continued rubbing her leg, each turn traveling higher up her thigh than the
last. By the time he reached the top of her inner thigh, she had begun lifting her hips to meet the
upward sweep of his hand.

            His fingers stretched a little further until he felt the lace of her panties. He traced his
fingers then his hand over her mound and massaged her. A moan escaped her throat as her
breaths became deeper and she squirmed under his hand.

            Fin slipped a finger under the lace to stroke her, then two, and using them to part her,
delved into the wetness. Sam bit back a cry that arched her neck so that her head briefly left the
sofa. She moved her hips slightly and widened the space between her legs, giving him better
access. Fin pushed his fingers deeper into her. He watched her face, enjoying knowing he was
pleasing her.

            He slid his fingers in and out of her, but when her breaths became gasps he withdrew them
completely. He went back to rubbing her legs until her breathing had nearly returned to normal.

            Fin moved to lean over her again and kissed her. He smiled when she opened her eyes and
he saw the unspoken question. He kissed her again.

            “I didn’t think that’s how your first one with me should happen,” he said candidly.

            “No?” Sam was still gathering her wits. “How then?”

            “With me inside you,” he whispered in her ear.

            Sam took a deep breath then exhaled it. “Yeah,” she breathed. “That sounds like a plan.”

................................................................

            Munch put down the phone and crossed a name off the list. Taking a better look at it, he
noticed a small group of names with several check marks next to them, indicating they’d been
called several times with no answer.

            Calling to Tori in his room that he dn&#dn’t be long, Munch looked at his calendar for the
next several months, trying to decide which day he should call out sick.

...............................................................

            Fin heard the phone ringing from the hall. After Sam had left, he headed straight to the
bathroom for a shower. A cold one.

            He smiled deviously as he thought about their little tryst. He doubted she would pretend
to fall asleep in front of him again. Thinking it was her calling to say goodnight, Fin answered the
phone almost cheerfully.

            “Hello.”

            “Odafin?” It was his sister, Connie. Immediately Fin was worried. He and his sister did
not get along, so she would have no reason to call him unless it was an emergency.

            “Connie? What is it? How’s Mom?”

            “Oh, everyone’s fine. I just called to tell you I caught your performance at the club the
other night.”

            “Performance?” he asked warily.

            “Yeah. You know, with that little girl on the dance floor. What is she anyway, a meter
maid for the department?”

            “No,” Fin answered trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “She’s FBI.”

            “Wow. Young, white, and FBI,” she laughed meanly. “I gotta hand it to you, bro. When
you turn your back on your own, you really turn your back on them.”

            Fin hung up on her and slumped against the wall. Why couldn’t they just let him be
happy?