The Apology (an additional epilogue to "Light My Fire")

By Terri D. Thomas

I look through the blinds of the window and can see him sitting at the break room table. He is staring off into nothing, nursing a cup of coffee.

I take a deep breath, not sure what has possessed me to come here. I've had one rule in my life. . .to never find myself in a position where I have to apologize for my actions. I have held true to that rule until now.

I'm not sure why I did it. I know I was hurt by what he had done. I had held such high expectations for a solid relationship. To be stood up was a blow, not just to my ego, but to my heart as well. Then he was just so cavalier about what he'd done, like it was some game, like it didn't matter to him.

I let my anger build. It had no release until he walked into my lab with Jim. I knew he worked at the station. I knew that at some point we'd run into each other. I had hoped that my anger would dissipate because he would show some sign of remorse. . .some sign that he regretted that we had not built a relationship as much as I had. But there was nothing. Only that impish grin as he admitted that he had forgotten about me.

When I handed him the oxidizer and asked him to add the water, I knew there would be a flash burn. Frankly, I also knew it would be contained. . .and I really didn't care about the ramifications of my actions. I wanted to see the hurt in his face.

God, I was stupid.

While I did find momentary pleasure at his fear and at seeing the humor in Jim's eyes, the longer I thought about what I had done, the more certain I was that I had royally screwed up.

Part of me didn't want to admit the screw up. . .was able to justify my actions because he had hurt me. Another part. . .a growing part, realized that regardless of what he had done to me, my reaction was born out of vengeance, and was inappropriate. But the problem is that when you have committed yourself to never apologizing for your actions, you find that you don't know how to say 'I'm sorry,' even when you realize that's the only thing you want to say.

So now I find myself standing outside the break room, watching Blair, wishing I had the guts to walk in, apologize for what I had done and ask for his forgiveness.

I close my eyes and lean my head against the window. Somewhere inside of me I know I have the strength to do this. I just can't figure out exactly where I left my courage. I search my soul.

A hand on my shoulder startles me from my introspection. "You okay?" the gentle voice says. I open my eyes and find Blair standing next to me. Any small piece of courage I thought I had found suddenly disappears. Feeling insecure, I can feel my default reaction kicking in. I prepare a defensive, cocky response, preparing to take control of the situation before he can.

"You want some coffee or something?" he asks.

I open my mouth to say something about him not standing me up this time, but then I bite my tongue. Instead, I nod silently and follow him into the room. "Black, right?" he asks.

Once again, I nod. Without knowing it, I find myself sitting at the table. I look up and he is handing me a cup of coffee and sliding into the chair across from me. I look into those blue eyes and see genuine concern. That makes me feel even worse. After what I did, he still cares about me.

The corners of his lips turn up slightly. "You know, I thought I'd singed my eyebrows off."

I close my eyes. Shit. He just had to bring it up.

"Guess I deserved it."

My eyes snap open. "No. . .no you didn't," I say hurriedly while I still have my courage.

"Yeah, right," he responds, his tone holding suspicion.

I take a deep breath and dig down into the center of my being. "Blair. . .I need. . .I want. . .," I stutter.

Blair frowns. "What's wrong? Are you feeling okay? You look pale."

"No, it's not that," I answer, shaking my head. "I have to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"Uh. . .Blair. . this isn't. . .uh. . .easy for someone. . .for someone like me. I've. . .never really. . .said. . .something like this." I hear a small laugh escape from my mouth. "Of course, I never really did anything like this before either."

Blair shook his head, confused. "What's wrong, Sam."

"I. . .I screwed up. I. . .shouldn't have done that to you. . .in the lab."

Blair's eyebrows narrowed. "The lab?" He is silent for a moment. "Oh! The lab!" he exclaims, as he connects my words with the incident. "Well, according to Jim I kinda deserved it."

"No, Blair, no you didn't," I respond.

"Hey, it's no problem. I mean. . .yeah, it kinda took me by surprise, but no harm done."

His willingness to accept what I did without condemnation makes me feel worse. "Please, let me say this. I need to say this. I. . .I'm not very good at things like this."

Blair starts to respond, but he looks into my eyes and says nothing. I take another deep breath, close my eyes and plan out my words. When I know that I've found the courage, I open my eyes. "Blair. . .I. . .apologize. . .for my actions. They were immature and uncalled for. I only hope. . .that. . .that you can forgive me." The words tumble out, one after the other, like rocks falling in a landslide.

The room is silent when the last word is spoken. Blair tilts his head and smiles. "Thanks, Sam. Thanks for caring enough to apologize. . .and I accept your apology. . .on the condition that you accept mine."

I feel an overwhelming sense of relief warm my body. I hear a little voice in my head telling me that the apology didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. In fact, I feel pride coursing through my system for having the courage to say something that I have always avoided saying.

"Hey, you still in there? You okay?" he asks, his eyes narrowing in concern once again.

"Yeah. . .yeah, I'm okay. I'm just not used to. . .to saying. . .that."

"It feels kinda good, doesn't it," he smiles.

"Yeah. . .yeah it does."

Blair stands up and walks around the table to my chair. "You wanna grab some dinner? I know this great Indian restaurant that just opened up."

Feeling hundreds of pounds lighter, I stand up. "I'd like that." He escorts me to the door. I turn back to him knowing that there is a sparkle in my brown eyes. "Of course you realize you're buying. You do owe me one, you know." I flip my head around, letting my long brown hair smack him in the face.

Blair lets a chuckle escape and shakes his head. "Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor, Sam."

-fin-