And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you. - Luke 22:19-20
God forgive me. But I’m doing it. I’m writing fanfic about real people. Who may or may not be together. Here we go. Remind me to go to Confession before Easter Communion. Thanks.
And without further ado, what I imagine the “She spends all her money online” actually means.
It wasn’t that Sam hadn’t expected Cait to have a lot of stuff when he had asked her to move into his flat. He had known her for nearly two years now, he knew what it had looked like when she had moved to Glasgow from LA, he even knew what the house in LA looked like during their break from season one. So he had expected quite a bit of stuff to be moved into his minimalist apartment.
He just hadn’t been expecting this. Boxes coming to his door day after day, every day. At first, it had been endearing how she had wanted to spruce up the place, make it more homely, but after the tenth pair of impossibly high designer shoes had been delivered, he started to figure that he had finally found a flaw in Cait.
She distracted him, usually, when he asked. Shoes were modeled and then kept on to encourage him as they made love against the door. Clothing, too, could usually be excused, especially when it ended up on the bedroom floor, sometimes with tears from his over eager hands.
But the artwork.
He wasn’t sure what the hell she needed with all the artwork. She hung it in her trailer and in the make up room on set, but now it was lining his walls. And there was another box sitting in front of his door now, a big one.
“Oh, good, it’s arrived!” Cait gasped from behind him, a bag of takeout hanging from her slim hand. “Bring it in and let’s unpack it! I was thinking for the bedroom.”
“Cait,” Sam groaned as he lifted the box, his muscles straining after a long day of battle scenes. “More art?”
“You lived like a bachelor before me, hon,” she shrugged. “Now look.”
“I’ve looked,” he nodded. “And it looks great. But there’s hardly any room.”
“You’ll love this one.”
“You know, I used to wonder what you did on set, on your phone all the time. Figured you were catching up on Twitter, maybe. Reading the news. But shopping, Cait?”
“It’s not a problem,” she shook her head. “And it’s really only occasionally.”
“It’s every day,” he raised an eyebrow. “Every day there’s a box here and…is this why you begged for WiFi this year? Had to have it, said it was an emergency?”
“You love the WiFi on set.”
“I don’t need it.“
“But we have it,” Cait smiled at him and wrapped her arms around her neck. “I may have picked up a very, very small online shopping addiction while we were on break.”
“Very small,” she leaned forward to kiss him, her lips just brushing over his. “And you love the shoes and clothes.”
“Well…” He half-shrugged as he lifted her easily off the ground and she wrapped her legs eagerly around his waist. “Maybe a little less art, yeah?”
“Caitriona!” He gasped. “More?”
“Just a couple more pieces, really. Beautiful. From that gallery in Barcelona.”
“What am I supposed to do with you?” Sam groaned as he took her into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed.