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"Shouldn't it be out on display or something? I mean there's only so many places someone can hide a cursed broadsword." You spoke in hushed tones as you rummaged through the snobby business man's office, having decided this was the most likely place for the sword to be after three of his employees had already turned up dead. But what you hadn't counted on was the shuffle of feet echoing down the empty hallway. "Someone's coming," you hissed, keeping your voice low but urgent. You quickly slammed the door to the antique armoire you'd been looking in and ran across the room to Sam on silent feet. "We need to get out of here!" His eyes flicked to the doorknob that was already turning and he shook his head. "No time." Then the next thing you knew there was a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the office's dark closet and against Sam's firm chest. "Shh," he whispered beside your ear, still holding you flush against him as he softly clicked the door back into place and turned off his flashlight. The sound of your breathing had become deafening in the quiet, only the muffled sliding of drawers available to drown it out. And if the man on the other side of the closet door wasn't enough to contend with, you suddenly felt Sam stiffen behind you as you waited. "Sam?" you whispered, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes were shut and his face was contorted with a clearly forced a calm, but when you tried to turn and face him his hands tightened on your waist, grabbing a fist-full of your shirt in the process. "Don't move," he said through gritted teeth, keeping his arms locked around you to drive his point home. At first you were confused - clearly in no place to argue with a potential murder on the other side of a flimsy door and a mountain of a man behind you, but confused nonetheless. And then you felt it. Something familiar and firm pressing into your lower back, a point of pressure that was no doubt the source of Sam's discomfort. You tilted your head up, being careful not to move your body, and whispered, "Seriously?" "It's not my fault. Just – just don't move." Sam squeezed his eyes shut further and released the fabric of your shirt, only to change his mind a few seconds later and grab another fist-full. You briefly wondered what manner of un-sexy things he was thinking about when you heard the office door click shut. The man had left. Sam seized the closet's doorknob and pushed with a jerk, yanking you both out into the once again empty office. You simply looked at him and grinned. "So ... you're into confined spaces, huh? Or is it the threat of getting caught?" Sam looked completely taken aback, eyes wide as he ceased yanking on his now too-tight pants. "What? No. Shut up."
