Sam stood out in the hot afternoon Miami sun and sweated. Little pins of perspiration appeared across his forehead and a few of them banded together to trickle lazily down his temple only to get caught in the labyrinth of rough stubble on his cheek. He could feel the heat from the suns rays pounding down on the back of his neck like he was a sun seeking tourist, not one of the locals. Sam didn't even class himself as local for this type of neighbourhood anymore. All right, it wasn't the roughest neighbourhood in Miami but still not the lavish areas he was now used to frequenting, all thanks to his current lady friend, his main squeeze, Elsa.
It was because of her that he was here today. Sam kept trying to convince himself that all couples fight now and again, that no one is perfect and that it was no big deal. Just look at Michael and Fiona's relationship and the trouble it was currently in. Actually, looking back on his own many relationships there had always been troubles, fights, tears, broken promises and broken hearts, but something about Elsa had been different. She was stunningly beautiful, besotted with him and one of the easiest women to get along with that he had ever met. Everything had been so easy and their romance had blossomed. She had been his blessing from on high, not just for his material wants, but his manly needs as well and that's not to mention the fact that she was basically bankrolling the jobs and various other activities he got up to with Michael and his friends.
Sam had been wanting to spend more time with his beloved after the whole affair that had meant possibly leaving the country without her. He would never forgive himself for leaving her to be interrogated by the CIA, but he had no choice. He trusted her implicitly and knew that if the team had to flee the country she would have stayed fiercely loyal to him, forsaking all other men, waiting until the day of his return. However, one thing about that whole mission didn't set well with him, the incident where he had been shot. It wasn't the fact that he had rolled the dice and lost, wasn't the fact that his thoughts were occupied with the mission and it wasn't the fact that he was convinced he was going to die. No. It was the fact that not once since the bullet entered his body did his mind turn to Elsa and that worried him. It wasn't until he had been operated on, twice, and was recovering in hospital, on his own, alone, did he think of her. Wanting her company, wanting her affection and wanting her to make a loving fuss over him. Once they were reunited however, things had never quite been the same. He had to make a noticeable effort to reassure her, keep her happy and keep her temperament even when it had been so easy and natural before. More time spent together at the moment only meant more disagreements and it had all erupted in their most fierce argument to date and culminated with Elsa selling his beloved Caddy!
Man, he loved that car. He loved how Elsa was such a strong women that she could stand up to him, but this had been just too much. Even though she had bought the car for him, he didn't realise that it was still in her name which had enabled her to sell it so swiftly and no matter how hard he pressed she wouldn't tell him which dealer she sold it to so he could go retrieve it with his own money. So, now he was standing in the lot of some dodgy dealership, coming perilously close to turning one of his favourite Hawaiian shirts into a dish rag while waiting for the dealer to return with the completed paperwork. He had spotted the sleek black German engineered masterpiece near the back, out of view for the normal lookyloos and after a quick test drive to put it through its paces had sized the car up as being more than adequate for chasing bad guys and eluding capture with its power and performance.
Where was that darned dealer? Sam could feel the beads of perspiration on his back. The little buggers were clubbing together to form a militia which proceeded to run the length of his spine in one swift move before pausing to travel that little extra distance further down and get caught in his underwear. 'Must have been an all female militia' he mused with a smirk to himself.
"Senior, Axe? Ah, Senior Axe!" Hearing his name called out across the lot, Sam turned to see the dealer coming his way. Everything about this man was slick, too much hair gel, a shine to his suit and too much sweat for a man who sat in an air conditioned building most of the day.
"My humble apologies for keeping you waiting Senior Axe. You were right, there had been a mistake, but everything has been cleared up now and she's all yours to take home!" Said the dealer passing Sam the completed paperwork along with the keys.
Sam casually let out the breath he'd been holding. He had placed several of his pension cheques into an account set up just to buy the car but had forgotten to transfer in some of the allowance Elsa had been giving him to cover the final cost. Glad he didn't go through smart phones like Michael Westen and thanking his lucky stars for Internet banking, he had managed to correct his mistake before he looked like a fool sweating not just from the heat. "It's all good Jose. Thank you." Sam said, taking the offered items.
Jose held the door of the automobile open while giving Sam his final 'Are you absolutely sure you don't want extended cover?' speech. Sam assured him he didn't need it, thanked him again and drove out of the lot. Sam enjoyed the smooth ride while doing his best not to feel sad by drawing comparisons with his old Caddy. The argument with Elsa had been settled and both parties had forgiven each other but it still nagged at him. He pulled up to a red light and contemplated their relationship, how it had grown, how it had changed, but he felt a thrill of independence from her for the first time in quite a while knowing that this car was officially his and not 'Big Momma's'. There was a blast from the past, it was a pet name he used to call her when they had first met and she had become his sugar momma, paying his way and keeping him as her 'Boy Toy'. Sam ran his hand gracefully over the dash, caressed the steering wheel like the curves of a lover and ran his thumb over the embossed logo on the centre of the steering wheel. He idly thought 'Huh, Big Momma's Wheels'
Sam signed, slightly crestfallen at the thought that because of the allowance she granted him, he wasn't as independent as he'd originally imagined. He dismissed the idea of heading back to the dealership and returning the car just so as he didn't have to have the reminder from this little emblem. A car horn sounded from behind, alerting him to the now green light. Taking it as a sign that he should be looking forwards to the future and not dwell on the past Sam introduced pedal to floor and drove off into the sweltering depths of Miami in search of a good mojito.