Work Text:
Sam: "Are you okay, Kenny?"
Kenny: "I told you, didn't I? It's Jenny. She dumped me."
Sam: "Yeah, but that was this morning, wasn't it? ….Kenny, everyone gets dumped. Even I've been dumped. Once. I think. Actually, what did happen to him? I think I might just have forgotten I had him. It's terrible when you lose track of one, isn't it?" (S2, Picking Up the Pieces)
*
"You can dump me," said Sam. "It'll be a new experience for both of us."
Kenny frowned. "What if I don't want to?"
"Then I'll dump you," she said. "Don't worry, I'm great at it. I've done it loads of times. Only you really should get some practice in. After all, what happens when some heartless girl comes along and messes you about? Are you going to sit there and take it?"
"Sam," said Kenny. "Ever heard of logic? Besides, this hypothetical girl – I don't think I'll ask her out, anyway. She sounds scary. What if I want to carry on going out with you?"
She shrugged. "Well, I can understand that point of view. As long as I can still see that cute guy on Wednesday."
"Sam. I'm going out with you Wednesday."
She frowned thoughtfully into the distance. "It must be that other cute guy, on Thursday."
"You really want me to dump you, don't you?"
Sam smirked. "Think of it as a challenge."
Kenny reflected on the irony that, somehow, for a quiet guy his life was never peaceful.
*
One
"Look, I don't know where to start. It's mean. It'll ruin the film."
Sam wriggled into her seat in the cinema. "Then don't tell me. You can just ignore me. Look through me in the newsroom and pass me messages about the budget through Tiddler. Be remote and heartless."
"Sam, I wouldn't do that."
She sighed. "After the film, then?"
"No, that'd spoil the whole night," he returned. "We'd better have a few more dates and I'll work myself up to it gradually. I'll make you buy your own ticket next time."
At that moment, the lights went down and she couldn't see his expression in the darkness. She raised her eyebrows. "Cunning," she concluded admiringly. "I always knew you had hidden depths."
"Sam, if you want the popcorn, you only have to ask," he returned, and she was sure he was grinning.
*
Two
"I'll go out with another guy," said Sam, as they sat opposite each other across a table in Czars. "I don't mind. See that one over there – he's cute."
"Thanks, Sam."
"Well, then you'd have to end the relationship. What sort of girl two-times you behind your back?"
"It's not exactly behind my back when you chat him up in front of me, is it?"
She leant forward, abandoning her milkshake, eyes gleaming. "Oh, come on. Wouldn't it make you wild with jealousy? You'd have to dump me." She drew back. "Wouldn't you?"
"Actually, I'd probably get depressed and go and stare sadly at couples," he said. "I'd assume that was us finished."
Sam sighed. "Oh."
*
Three
"Okay," said Sam, walking through the park next to him, holding an ice cream. "Go on. Just go for it. Be totally ruthless and cruel. I know you've got it in you, Kenny. Dump me. Now – the worst possible time, a Sunday afternoon. I can take it. Say whatever you want. Anything. Imagine I'm Lynda!"
Kenny raised his chin and drew himself up, psyching himself to try. Then he sagged back and shrugged. "No. I couldn't. Not like that."
"Kenny!"
*
Four
"I'm ordering you to dump me," announced Sam, at the restaurant. "Right here, right now. This is it, Kenny!"
Maybe it was the way that he'd spent too many years obeying orders, but he rose to the challenge, facing her over the table. "Okay. I don't think this is going to work, Sam. You don't take me seriously; you flirt with other guys – and your spelling's atrocious!"
She stared at him, her eyes widening.
"Sorry," he added, inevitably. "I mean, you did tell me to -."
Sam held up a hand to his mouth. "Shh. Don't spoil it."
"What?"
She drew her hand back, and rested her elbows on the table, gazing at him dreamily. "I think we should practice the dumping thing a bit more."
"Sam -."
"You know I go for the mean and moody types." Then she wrinkled her forehead. "What d'you mean, my spelling?"
"Well, you can't spell jacuzzi for starters."
"Who can?" she retorted. "Kenny, that isn't the point…"
*
Five
"By the way," said Sam, perching on his desk. "I should tell you I'm moving to Scotland, so if you're going to dump me, you'd better do it fast."
Kenny stopped. "Is that a joke?"
"No," she said. "Sorry. But I've got the perfect way for you to dump me. Sort of, anyway…"
*
"Lynda, I've fired Sam. That okay with you, boss?"
"Of course," said Lynda, continuing with reading through an article.
Kenny watched, and waited for the words to sink in. Slowly she looked up.
"You did what?"
Before Lynda could go further, Sam exited the graphics room, bag in hand. "Who'd have thought it?" she said, walking across to the editor and her assistant. "Goodbye, Lynda. Can't say it's been a pleasure."
"Hang on," said Lynda. "Who said you could go?"
Sam pointed at Kenny, who gave a guilty smile. She swung round to leave, then dumped her bag on the desk. "You know, there's something I always meant do, but I never got round to it -." She caught at Kenny's tie, with a wink and a grin, and pulled him down, and kissed him for what was probably the last time rather than the first, but definitely the only time in front of Lynda and a watching newsroom.
"Sorry," she said, moving back, and picking up her bag. "Can't think what came over me. Must have been the firing thing. I adore the masterful type, don't you?"
And she swanned out of the newsroom, the door swinging closed behind her.
"Whatever that was about," said Lynda, breaking the stunned silence, "I don't want to know! Ever."
"Oh?"
"And if there isn't a law against it," she informed him, "there's going to be as of now!"
Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Lynda, if there's a rule against people kissing the assistant editor, I'm leaving."