Okay, well I kind of have an idea of where I want to take this story, but I usually like to go with the flow, so those who read, please be flexible. As far as couples go I'm not too sure, but expect that most of this story will revolve around Sam, with some other minor plots going on. Anyway, I really appreciate reviews, so if your reading feel free to leave a comment, good or bad. Thanks.

Sammy


The clock's tick was making him sick.

He stared at the floor.

He tried to get comfortable.

Jail was a bitch.

Cooper loosened a few buttons on his light blue shirt and cracked his neck. What a mess he had gotten himself into.

He listened to the shuffling footsteps and muffled voice outside of the holding center. He looked down at where his breast pocket would be. In place of it there was a series of numbers. Yet even with the metal bars, the situation seemed unreal.

Suddenly his ears picked up the sounds of footsteps and a familiar sounding voice. They came closer and became louder and suddenly the dark room was filled with a blinding light and standing in front of his cell were Detective Rodriguez and Alexis Davis.

"You're lawyer is here," Cruz said bitterly. His brown eyes were burning holes in Cooper, but the young man couldn't blame him. Everything that Cruz trusted had been betrayed. One of the PCPD's own had been a traitor.

Cooper gave a light nod and watched as Cruz unlocked the cell. He had half a mind to sprint out while he had the chance but he knew that his ex-comrade would not hesitate to pull his trigger.

"Thank you, detective," Alexis smiled at Cruz as he closed the door behind her. Cruz gave a nod and slipped out of sight, slamming the holding center door behind him.

"What are you doing here? It's late," Cooper said to Alexis.

"I thought you'd be grateful," Alexis sighed as she set her briefcase down and took off her scarf.

"Don't get me wrong, I am. I just thought that you had a family or something," Cooper replied softly.

"Don't get me wrong, I do," Alexis smiled. "Speaking of family, you said you made a call to your father. Do you need me to call anyone else for you?"

"No," Cooper answered shaking his head. "Dad said he'd take care of it."

Alexis nodded her head. For a moment there was a heavy silence that fell between the two of them. "Cooper . . . I came here to get some answers from you," Alexis finally said.

Cooper was expecting this, just not so soon. She had caught him off guard. "What questions are you going to ask?"

"There's a lot of evidence against you," Alexis revealed slowly. "And Scott Baldwin is a snake in the court room. You need to tell me anything and everything that he may use against you . . . including why Sonny Corinthos nearly pleaded with me to defend you."

Cooper swallowed down hard and watched as Alexis grabbed her briefcase and pulled out a file. "You served in Iraq. That's already an unmerited strike against you. Scott's going to claim that you may be mentally unstable or suffering from post-traumatic stress," Alexis explained as she slowly leafed through the papers in the manila folder. She looked up, "There are classified military records that say there was a woman strangled near your base . . . Cooper . . . why would that be included on your file?"

"I don't know," Cooper muttered distantly. His heart pounded and he felt sweat slowly forming on the back of his neck.

Alexis stared at him sympathetically. "Cooper, you're going to have to tell me what happened, otherwise Baldwin is going to tear you a part."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lucky Spencer entered Jake's with one thought in mind; become numb.

His life seemed pathetic, even to him.

He had ruined a perfect marriage with an affair and drugs. It had only been saved by pity. Elizabeth had married again even though she was in love with Jason, and then let Lucky continue thinking that Jake was his son.

Then came mistake number two; Samantha McCall. In all truth he had liked her quite a lot. They shared a connection, but like Elizabeth she had betrayed him as well. For all he knew she was continuing their relationship just for revenge on her ex and he was beginning to think that she was in love with Jason as well.

Oh how he hated Jason Morgan.

"Coleman, give me something, anything," Lucky requested somberly as he plopped himself down at a bar stool.

"Bad day?" Coleman asked.

"Bad year," Lucky grumbled as the bartender turned to get him a pick me up beverage.

Who could he trust anymore?

Yesterday he had realized that Sam had been lying to his face. Actually it was just keeping the truth from him, but it was no better than the lies. Elizabeth had told him that afternoon that Sam had seen "his" son kidnapped by Maureen.

And by that evening break-up number two had been made possible.

"Here you go," Coleman said to Lucky as he slid him a drink. Lucky nodded his head in appreciation and took a long chug.

He was grateful for the evening off. Cooper Barrett's arrest had only proven to him that he couldn't even trust the people he worked with. He slowly put his beer down and rubbed his eyes.

"What the hell are you crying about Spencer?"

Lucky slowly looked up and his eyes widened. "Oh god," he sighed in desolation. "Coleman, get me another one."

"At a boy," Luke Spencer grinned at his son as he took a seat next to him. "Coleman, give whatever this cowboy is drinking."

- - - - -

The cold draft was calming as Samantha McCall stared out at the water with sorrowful brown eyes.

What had she done?

A week earlier Lucky explained to her that she had a problem. She had simply proven it right. If only there was rehab for people who couldn't help but make terrible mistakes and do awful things.

She didn't know what was wrong with her. Why couldn't she control herself? It was as if she was in a trance when she did the things she did. She used to be a good person, or at least she thought she had once been one, she just didn't understand where she went wrong.

And Lucky.

He was perfect. He was a gift and Sam had kept the truth from him. The one thing that would hurt Lucky most. But over the past year Sam had found her specialty; screwing things up.

She sighed. What was she doing out on the pier? Feeling sorry for herself when she had brought it all upon herself. No wonder so many people couldn't stand her. She was thankful for the on location shoot for the show the next day. She needed a reason to escape.

Standing up from the bench and shoving her hands into her pocket, she suddenly felt her cell phone vibrate. Giving a sigh she pulled it out of her pocket and flipped open the silver razor. She had a new text message.

Don't think I've forgotten about you.

Her breath caught in her throat. "Shit," she muttered. She started toward the stairs, but before she could make an escape from Pier 52, a strong hand gripped onto her arm, nearly bruising her on impact. She was yanked back and suddenly in the presence of the text message killer.