Sam needed to break out of her rut. Even though Hatter was there for her, she knew that, he seemed to not be enough. And if she wrote one more thing into her bursting journal, she didn’t know what she was going to do. It was becoming harder and harder to hide that monster anyways. So, she began to search.

            To search for another creative outlet for her thoughts.

            She didn’t care what it was. It could be painting or photography. Anything and she would be happy.

            So, Sam wandered aimlessly around the TARDIS; searching for anything that could save her from the darkness that was creeping in on her.

            After an hour of searching, poking her head into almost a hundred rooms (three of which growled at her), Sam found an art studio to work in.

            “Perfect.” She said with a smile.

            The room was large with faux windows that let in bright sunshine. The walls were a soft blue with nothing on them.

            Sam entered the room, walking over to, what she assumed to be, a supply cabinet. She pulled out some brushes of different sizes, a canvas, some paint and a pallet and a smock to attempt to keep herself clean in.

            She squirted the paint onto the clean pallet and then placed the canvas on one of the many stands around the room.

            Then she began.

            Sam took out some charcoal that was tucked into the pocket of the smock and began to sketch something, not quite sure what it was. She just let her senses take over and didn’t think about each stroke she made.

            When she finished the sketch, Sam began to paint. She dipped one of the smaller brushes into the brown pain and then into the black, mixing them lightly.

            She painted a rock face, a large castle atop it. A tree, the Whomping Willow appeared in shadow off to the side of the castle.

            “Where’s that?” Hatter said, silently entering the room.

            His sudden question and appearance caused Sam to jump, losing her grip on the pallet which made contact with Hatter’s clean white t shirt.

            “Oh my god!” Sam said, covering her smile with her hands. This was funny. Sort of. “I’m so sorry!”

            She moved to help him clean up but he stopped her with one hand.

            “It’s alright. I didn’t like this shirt anyways. Too boring for me.” Hatter said, never once losing the smile on his face.

            Sam smiled back, a small blush tinting her cheeks pink.

            “I am sorry.” She muttered, picking the pallet off of the floor at Hatter’s feet.

            “Sam,” Hatter said. “don’t worry about it.”

            He wiped some of the paint off with his finger and playfully spread it across Sam’s cheek.

            “Hatter!” she squealed, wiping her cheek with the sleeve of her old flannel shirt.

            Hatter just stood there and smiled at her.

            “Sam!” he mimicked. She opened his arms to her and pulled her close, with much protest on her side.

            “Oh, Hatter! I actually liked this shirt!” Sam said as she attempted to squirm free, which she did.

            She turned away from Hatter and went back to her painting, ignoring the feel of wet paint seeping through her sleeves.

            Hatter wrapped his muscular arms around Sam’s waist and rested his stubbly chin on her should.

            “I’m sorry, love.” He said, kissing her cheek.

            Hatter stared at the painting.

            “So, where is it?” Hatter repeated his early question about the painting.

            “A castle.” Sam said dreamily. Her eyes were hard and focused on her work as she let her hand gently add paint to the canvas.

            “Anything else. You seem to have a… story or something for it. I can see it in your eyes.” Hatter said, turning his head slightly to see her eyes clearer.

            “It’s called Hogwarts.” Sam said, a smile pulling at her lips. “It’s a school for witchcraft and wizardry.”

            “Was it your school?” Hatter asked. He had always figured something was different about her. Besides the whole time travel thing that is.

            Sam shook her head and let out a small giggle. “I wish.” She sighed. “I’ve only ever been there once. Maybe twice.”

            Her smile faded as thought of Remus flooded her mind.

            “And who’s that?” Hatter asked, pointing at a shadowy figure near the image of the whomping willow.

            Sam squinted her eyes, not noticing the figure while she was painting. Remus.

            Without even realizing it, Sam had painted Remus heading to the Willow to escape the school, protect it from what he really was. A werewolf.

            “I don’t know.” She lied.

            “Sam.” Hatter said, turning her to face him.

            Sam looked down. He could feel her shudder lightly at her thoughts.

            “He’s a friend. A close friend.” Sam admitted, looking him in the eye.

            Hatter’s smile faded a bit. There was still something that she wasn’t telling him.

            “I miss him.” Sam said softly, dropping his gaze.

            Hatter hated to see her like this. And he would do anything to bring back her silly smile to her face.

            “Oh Sam.” He said, noticing tears in her eyes as he gently forced her to look at him.

            She was on the verge of a sob.

            Hatter leaned in and kissed her. He wasn’t forceful or looking for something in return for his kind gesture. He just kissed her softly, like a gentleman.

            And Sam liked it.

            She dropped her pallet to the floor with a small clatter and wrapped her arms around his neck.

            The kiss however did not stop her tears or the thoughts of how horrible she was for leading two people on. She never wanted to be that person.

            These thoughts did not stop her enjoyment of the kiss or the love she felt for the man she was sharing it with.