All the usual disclaimers apply.

Many thanks to Purdy's Pal for her patience. I'm so glad you're still willing to read over my 'stuff'. No matter how long it takes me to get it to you.

Thanks to everyone reading. I appreciate your time.

A/N - This version of Sam's story is based on the one he told to Tony in season 4 - Made Man. Thanks to Amanda Hawthorn and Purdy's Pal for their help in fleshing it out.

Chapter 2

"Hey Mike! I come bearing gifts," Sam entered the loft holding a loaded grocery bag in front of him.

"Isn't there a saying 'beware the ex-Navy SEAL who comes bearing gifts'?" Fiona goaded from her perch on the end of the mattress that was Michael's bed. She put down the Guns 'N Ammo magazine she had been leafing through to come peek through the grocery bag.

Sam pulled the bag away from Fiona's prying fingers. "That's Greeks, Fi. More specifically, Trojans." Sam paused long enough to close the loft door. "Besides which, I'm a descendant of Robert the Bruce of Scotland. Very noble character."

Fiona snorted indelicately, "The Loch Ness monster, is more likely."

Sam chose to ignore Fiona and walked past her towards the small kitchen where Michael was puttering with some surveillance equipment. Sam placed the bag on the work table beside Michael's handiwork.

Michael, for the most part, was ignoring both of his guests. He casually pulled a wire out from under the grocery bag and continued working.

"Whatcha building there, Mikey?" Sam asked.

Without looking up, Michael answered, "A bug. You took the last one from my work bench for that job last week."

"I notice you were running a little low on our everyday supplies," Sam grinned.

Hoping to engage Michael into conversation, Sam asked, "I ever tell you about the time I led a fact finding mission into El Salvador in the 80's?"

What he got was a quick glance away from the miniature work before Michael lowered his head and went back to work with a non-committal sort of grunt.

Refusing to be daunted, Sam grinned and pushed on, "There were five of us; Virgil and Mack, who you know, Pete, Stoney and myself. We hadn't gotten far into country when the death squads got wind of us." Sam paused a moment, "Never did figure out how they locked onto us so fast." A quick shake of his head and he was back telling his story, "However they managed it, they found us and were trying to live up to their name."

By now, both Michael and Fiona were listening intently, although both made an effort not to look it. While they usually enjoyed Sam's stories, they didn't want that fact going to the man's head. Sam noticed the solder Michael was holding wasn't actually in use, and Fiona had gone back to pick up her magazine, but hadn't made any move to turn a page.

Sam smiled as he continued, "I found some cover for us, but my buddy Pete took a bullet to the spine before he could round the corner. We had an emergency evac chopper lined up, but there was no way Pete could make it five blocks, much less the five miles to the LZ outside of town." Memories flooding back made Sam stop his recital.

Michael, knowing there had to be a point to this unexpected burst of storytelling. He put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "How did you make it out?"

The look in Michael's eyes showed he understood only too well that Sam would never leave a man behind to make a mad dash for his own safety. Sam gave a smile of gratitude. "Virgil took Mack and Stoney to the landing zone and got them out of that mess."

"Virgil?" Fiona asked, surprise clearly showing on her face.

"Yes, Virgil. Gee whiz, Fi. He wasn't always living in a swamp, repo-ing boats, you know." Sam reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer. After unscrewing the top, he took a long drink, downing half the bottle's contents.

"It's hard to consolidate the two images, that's all," Fiona shrugged. "I have a hard enough time picturing you in khaki's and running through the back water towns of the world."

"Funny," Sam glared, "I have no troubles what-so-ever picturing you racing through Belfast and blowing up half of Ireland."

"Guys!" Michael interrupted their verbal battle. "Sam, I assume there's a point, so finish your story."

With a quick wink at Fiona, Sam gave a small victorious smile. Fiona only 'hmmphed' and made her way over to the kitchen and started snooping through Sam's grocery bag, her eyes lighting up when she recognized the contents.

Not wanting his plans foiled, Sam pulled the bag away and stashed it inside the refrigerator, and continued his story, "Pete and I holed up in a church, living on holy water and communion wafers for a coupla days. After the rest of the unit made it back to HQ, they came back with some Blackhawks and air lifted Pete and me out. The rescue was just in time, too. We wouldn't have made it through another day. The death squads' search teams were close. They woulda found us in a few more hours."

Fiona hoped she wouldn't regret asking, but she needed to know, "What happened to Pete?"

Sam finished his beer and gave a dimpled grin, "Ended up on medical discharge. He went home, met this beautiful woman, got married and settled down. They have three kids. I'm godfather to his oldest. He's even named after me." He put down the empty bottle triumphantly.

"Who names their kid Jackass?" Fiona asked and wasn't surprised when both men gave her a hard look.

Sam, of course, had to add, "I suppose anyone named after you would be Trinitrotoluene?"

"Guys, enough," Michael snapped, but couldn't help thinking 'only Sam could come up with the full name of TNT and use it as an insult'.

Michael stepped between Sam and Fiona as he reached into his fridge, hoping to enforce a little space between them. Now that he had a moment, he pulled out one of four containers from the bag Sam had hidden away.

"Wow, Sam," Michael suddenly felt worried. "To what do I owe the honour?" He held up a 16 ounce container of Choboni Greek yogurt. "Blueberry. My favorite." Michael cracked the lid and pulled a spoon out from a drawer. He might as well enjoy some of it now, before the impending sales pitch from Sam about whatever case he was going to rope them into, did away with his appetite.

"Why do you assume…?" Sam began, but from Michael's resigned look he took a different route. "These guys, they saved my life, Mike."

Fiona grabbed Michael's spoon from his fingers and took a heaping scoop of the tasty treat. "We've already helped Virgil and Mack. What say you take Stoney and I'll go with Pete."

"Trying to win a Kewpie doll, Fi?" Michael asked, taking the spoon back and digging out another mouthful for himself. Michael finished with his turn and gave the spoon back to Fiona.

Accepting the spoon, and looking directly at Sam, she muttered, "Beats getting the boobie prize."

"I'll let that last comment slide if it means you'll help me out with Stoney's problem," Sam bartered. He watched Michael and Fiona as they shared another spoonful each of the deluxe yogurt.

"Why is it," Fiona started to ask, pointing the spoon she now held directly at Sam's chest, "These people save your life, and Michael and I end up repaying the favor?"

Sam smiled, knowing they were in, "I think it has to do with gratitude for how many times I've been there to save your lives."

Fiona was about to argue that fact, but Michael stepped in, "What's the problem, Sam?"

Sam shared the story he got from Stoney earlier that afternoon.

"His girlfriend was captured because he put their relationship before the job?" Fiona asked, giving Michael an 'Are You Paying Attention?' look.

Michael frowned, "He let himself get distracted and now his girlfriend's life is in danger."

"Once we rescue her, she won't have to wonder where she fits in his life!" Fiona retorted.

"Look," Sam held up his hand, putting a stop to the lover's spat, "I promised Stoney I'd get back to him, let him know we were going to help him."

Fiona still had some ire left, "Stoney? Who makes a child go through life with a name like that?"

Sam sighed, but answered, "I gave him that name."

"You?" Fiona looked aghast, wondering what the man could have done to deserve such an awful moniker.

"He's named after his great-grandfather, I think. Apparently the man made it into some government annuals, listed as Agent Breakstone." Sam rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't use the man's first name. I just couldn't bring myself to call for 'Ginger' while out in the field." Shaking his head over the imagined embarrassment, Sam headed out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

Returning to the Blue Moon hotel after his meeting with Sam Axe, Stoney had paced back and forth burning off energy. Hoping to relax, he opened a bottle from the minibar and emptied it into a glass with ice. He took it out to the balcony, where he could enjoy it as he watched young people frolic around the pool. The phone rang from inside his suite. Stoney took a quick swallow, finishing off the bourbon. With a one last look to the people below, he went back in.

Stoney checked his watch before answering, "Hello?...Yeah, I'm pretty sure he's gonna help…I don't know. He's got a team or somethin'….Look, everything is gonna be fine….Stop worrying. He said he'd help and Sam Axe won't let a buddy down….Yeah, I know what's at stake!"

Stoney slammed the phone receiver back into its cradle. "Damn government contracts. Better be worth it."

The phone rang again.

"Damn it! What now?" Stoney growled into the handset. The voice on the other end surprised him. "Sam! Hey man, I'm sorry. Just got off the phone with the boss….That's great, Sam! Just what I needed to hear right now….Tomorrow, nine AM at Carlito's? That's the place we met up today, right?...I'll be there. And Sam, I'm glad I ran into you today. You're a real life saver, man."

Stoney hung up the phone with a smile this time. Finally, things were going his way.