Ride or Die | Sam Fender AU

007

"You were supposed to be watching her!" Sam snarled.

"Oh, give over, Sam," Heidi huffed as she collapsed in one of the chairs opposite his desk. "She wanted to go oot, what was I s'pposed to do? Tell her no?"

"Exactly that!" he hissed, slamming his palm down furiously on the dark oak.

"She's my friend!" she spat, matching his fury. "She's my friend and you're making me lie to her."

"You're lucky you're family 'cause if yer were anyone else, you'd be in a body bag," he glowered.

"You always did have a way with words, Sam," she huffed, rolling her eyes as she leant back in the chair.

"I'm serious, Heidi," he growled. "You were given a job. How yer execute it, I don't care but know your boundaries."

"You've got it bad for her," she murmured. 

"And what?" he scoffed, lip curling into a snarl.

"It's not a bad thing," she smirked. "I happen to like her very much. It'll be nice to have another girl around like."

"You've be given a job, Heidi," he snapped. "Stick to it."

"Oh, please," she snorted. "Have yer given any thought to what happens when Y/N gives in?"

"What's that s'pposed to mean?" he snipped, a deep crease between his brows as he mulled over her words.

"Well, are yer gan tell her what yer do? Keep lying to her-"

"I'm not lying about anything," he snarled.

"Keep telling yourself that," she laughed. "If this is a permanent thing, yer canna lie to her forever. What happens when she finds oot?"

"She won't," he hissed.

"Keep telling yourself that," she scoffed.

"Just stick to what you've been told to do," he hissed. "And do us a favour and watch your tone. Yer might be my little sister but I won't tolerate being disrespected. Understood?"

"Aye, aye, cap'n," she saluted, pushing herself up from the chair and slipping out of Sam's office with an amused smirk on her lips.

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temple. "Yer can come oot now, Hol," he called, seemily to an empty room but a slender figure was quick to step out from the shadows.

"How do you do that?" she wondered as she came to a halt between the two chairs oppsite Sam's desk. She stood tall with her feet apart and her hands clasped behind her back, her stance poised as always. Sam had stopped bothering to tell her to sit down anymore because she never did, ever the professional. "You're the only person who knows when I'm there."

"You're good, pet, but yer forget, the woman who taught yer everything is the woman who raised me," he smiled faintly. "Any updates?"

"She doesn't go very far," she told him. "She's not left her flat all day."

"Holly," he spoke firmly, giving her a firm glare that had her staring at her feet.

"You need to be careful," she murmured. "Her dad is sending men to keep an eye on her."

"Then take care of it," he instructed.

"You need to think about this, Sam," she frowned, daring to peer at him from beneath her thick lashes. "We're not just talking about Northumbria police here, this is the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police."

"I can deal with Andrea Agnello," he snorted, waving her off nonchalantly. "What I don't need is for him to find oot I'm pursuing his only daughter this early on. One wrong move and she's gone forever. So, do your job."

"Yes, sir." She nodded obediently. "May I suggest something?"

"Yer can suggest what yer like, pet, there's nee promise I'll consider it," he smirked, studying her curiously.

"Maybe tone it down a bit," she commented. "With Y/N. You can be a bit... intense when you wanna be. She's not used to that kind of attention, especially from a man. It's intimidating."

Sam paused as he considered the younger girl's words, mulling over them carefully. "...Noted," he mumbled. "You're dismissed."

Holly didn't say a word, choosing instead to slip stealthily out of the room and leaving Sam alone in his office. He picked up his phone, checking his messages but there were none from the person he hoped, just those from Dean and Tom regarding a missing shipment of stock. It was business-related stuff that Sam didn't have the head to deal with but unfortunately, he didn't have much choice.

He stood from his desk, dialling Dean's number as he marched away. It didn't take long for the man in question to answer, greeting Sam with a short hello.

"What d'yer mean the shipment ain't come in?" he barked, feeling the eyes of his men on him as he stormed through the corridors of the large home but he paid them no mind.

"I divvna what yer want me to say, Sam, it's not arrived," Dean sighed. "I've tried getting in touch with wor supplier but they're not answering."

"Then go down there and sort it oot," he hissed. "This is the last thing we need."

"I'm a bit tied up at the moment, mate," he admitted.

"With what?" he snipped.

"The other assignment yer put me on," he scoffed. "I can get it done but I won't be able to go down until later on tonight."

"No, it's fine," Sam murmured, running a hand over his face and redirecting himself to the armoury. "I'll do it myself."

"Yer sure? I can get Curtis on it," he offered.

"It's fine," he replied shortly as he pushed through a heavy door, ready to stock up with the weapons he needed. "I need to go that way anyway."

"Oh, aye?" he asked. Sam could almost hear the smirk in his voice and he knew immediately where the conversation was heading. "Off to see your lass?"

"I need to drop a little sommat off for tonight." He shrugged. Dean was one of his oldest friends and his right-hand man, part of the small inner circle that could get away with talking to him as they did.

"Breaking and entering don't bother her then?" he snorted. "Bit odd for the Commissioner's bairn like."

"Maybe she just enjoys the thrill," he smirked. "Keep me updated."

"Will do," he replied before ending the call with a soft click. There were no frills or bunting, just something short and sweet to get the point across.

Sam's eyes trailed over the hoards of weapons, carefully considering which to bring with him on his endeavours. He decided on a Heckler and Koch P30 — his favourite to use — and tucked it into the holster around his shoulder after ensuring it was fully loaded. He picked up another semi-automatic, this time, a Glock 19 and slotted it into his waist holster, concealed by his suit jacket. He grabbed a pocket knife as well as a retractable one, hiding one in his sock and another up his sleeve. You could never be too careful.

Deciding he was stocked up enough, it was time to leave, stopping in his study on the way to pick up the dress he was to drop off to you. You didn't know it yet but you were having dinner with him tonight. Right after he sorted the case of the missing shipment. He couldn't wait. To see you point blank or to see you in the dress he had meticulously picked out for you. It was the same deep shade of red of the dress you wore on the night you first met and it was sculpted in a way that would hug all of your curves perfectly. He could feel the blood rushing south at the thought, god help him when he actually saw you in it.

He couldn't wait.