Just my thoughts on what would happen once Samantha got a taste of what life can do to you despite the best laid plans. If you haven't seen the episode CSI Down be forewarned. This story does contain spoilers. If you don't care then enjoy.

Samantha Cafferty sat in the room with a smirk on her face. The minutes ticked by but they meant little to Samantha. She would be celebrating with her 'family' soon enough. Alexander Zadian would be picking her up any minute. He would take her back to the Mad 10, and the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to, as soon as they were finished killing her father. She just had to be patient.

The door opened; an officer stepped in with a grim look on his face. Samantha leaned back in her chair and smiled smugly at him. She assumed that he was there to escort her out to her waiting boyfriend. She felt a sense of satisfaction as she watched him move over to her chair and asked her to stand. Her father must be dead, lying alone and nearly forgotten in the desert, at a forgotten wishing well. A fitting end in her mind.

Slowly Samantha stood, her attitude almost flirtatious as she sashayed past the officer toward the door. She knew well the way she could use her attitude to gain what she wanted. Though she didn't expect anything from the cop, she couldn't help but leave an impression as she left. She reached for the knob, but the door moved from her grasp. Samantha paused, glancing back. The officer was approaching her. She turned toward the door, suddenly anxious to leave. Jim Brass stood in front of her, blocking the doorway.

Samantha straightened and looked the man in the eye. "I assume I am free to go. If you will excuse me?" She moved to push past him but he blocked her. Her eyes flashed as she stared defiantly at the man.

The officer stepped behind her with handcuffs in hand. "Samantha Cafferty, you are under arrest..." Samantha realized Brass had been prepared to stop her at the door, that they had planned it from the beginning.

The metal was cool against her skin. Samantha looked between Brass and the officer behind her, sure they were mistaken. Both had a grim but satisfied look on their faces. The way they coolly regarded her made her bristle. "Why are you arresting me? You have nothing on me!"

Jim Brass smiled. "That's where you're wrong. Conspiracy, accessory, several counts of first degree murder, and if we find something else we will be sure to add that to your list."

Samantha stared at the captain indignantly. "I wasn't there! I didn't kill anyone! You are my witnesses."

The officer pushed Samantha forward, heedless of her continued ranting. Jim Brass stood aside, as if ushering her out the door of the small interrogation room. He almost resembled a caring gentleman, which angered Samantha further. She resisted, still sure of her alibi, and reluctant to leave without seeing Alexander. She glared at the gathered techs as she was guided down the hall. As she drew near the group she stopped, shaking the guard off angrily.

"Alex will make sure my bail is posted. You can't keep me in a cell."

Nick Stokes met Samantha's challenging gaze. "Zadian won't be getting anyone out. He's dead. Along with his buddies." His voice was cold, emotionless, as though he thought of the deaths as nothing more than the redundant day to day work.

Samantha opened her mouth, but she couldn't speak. She stared at Nick in disbelief, looking for some sign that he was making a cruel joke. But he held her eye contact, sure and confident. Samantha thought that he couldn't sound more disgusted if he had been forced to take out the trash. The officer pushed her forward again, but she barely felt the contact. She felt numb. First Wess. Then Alexander. Samantha's shoulders slumped, and the fight drained out of her. She let the officer lead her away, listening to the CSI's talk of the deaths of the other gang members until she couldn't hear anymore.

The numbness slowly gave way to the cold loneliness that Samantha had assured herself she would never feel again. The knot settled into the pit of her stomach, the feeling all to familiar and unwelcome. She was sure that nobody in the gang would attempt to free her now. She had been relying on Alexander, on his money and power. She had been so sure that he would come back, would take her out of there no matter what, and they would forget that day. The realization of what had happened suddenly seemed to strike her.

Samantha felt her legs threaten to buckle under her. Gritting her teeth she took a deep breath, refusing to let the police see her weakening. Holding her head high she remained quiet, glaring at anyone she saw, during the rest of the transport to the jail cell that would be her home. Samantha wondered just how long she would be locked away, behind bars on a charge she was sure she had escaped. Thinking back suddenly the death of her father was a hollow victory.

The cell was empty when she was freed from her cuffs and pushed inside. Samantha tried to tell herself that she really hadn't cared either way. But secretly she was relieved to be left to her thoughts. She kept telling herself that she would have been in charge if there had been anyone else in the cell. But even to her mind she sounded scared and unsure. She screamed with rage and kicked the door. It did nothing to ease the pain and confusion. Suddenly drained Samantha moved toward the bed and dropped onto it, restless tension still coursing through her.

She leaned back, mind a roil of emotion and thought. Her jaw clenched with anger and a tear slipped down her cheek. For the first time since this all began she regretted her involvement. She thought back to the picture, and the letter. She had written the letter out of anger, taunting and cruel. The picture had seemed to be a cherry on the top. She had never expected Frank to go after the Mad 10 gang. She never expected him to try to save her. She didn't want to be saved. Not then. Now more than anything she wished anyone would save her, but there was nobody left.

She hadn't loved Wess, not really. He had been convenient at best. Not that she hadn't enjoyed most of her time with him. But she hadn't cared for him anymore than he had cared for her. They were useful to one another. When he was killed she felt, or thought she felt, remorse. She didn't think about her own guilt in his death. She hadn't set him up to die. But he had been killed through her actions. Looking back she wondered if she would have done what she did had she known the outcome. Though he was a member of their 'family' she considered him a minimal loss. A small time thug with less ambition than Alexander.

Another tear slipped free and Samantha bit back a sob. She had loved Alex. Or had she? She couldn't be sure. He had been charismatic, though she supposed he had to be to lead a gang. He had been tough, ruthless at times. But in his own way maybe he had loved her. And maybe she had loved him. She hadn't thought he would die; anyone else but him. Maybe it was his leadership and power that had drawn her to him, or maybe it was his cold calculating attitude. Or maybe it was the fact that he didn't have six other girlfriends in other parts of the city. Samantha sighed, she would never know now.

The only men she had even cared to allow near her were both dead. At the hands of her father. She wondered if he had suffered before he had died. She knew that they wouldn't have let him live, not at the expense of their lives. Samantha rolled onto her stomach with a grimace. Dear old dad, trying to play the hero. She wondered what he would think of his precious daughter sitting in jail. Just like him. The only difference was he had been able to blame a bar fight out of control. She could only blame her father. She had blamed him for years, turning to anyone who would listen for the support she had felt he couldn't give. And in the end they had let her down, just as he had. Maybe more.

Samantha laid on her bunk. Alone. And cried.