Chapter 2

Sam ran a hand across his forehead as he rolled onto his back. The sun sliced right into his eyes and cut away any sleep that remained in his fuzzy brain. He stayed way too late at Yvette's, but she was such good company, and for once it didn't involve a roll in the sack. That was something rare indeed. Before he could completely analyze last night's events, his cell phone rang on the night stand. With a groan, he rolled onto his stomach and reached for it. He squinted at the screen, saw it was Michael, and caught it just before it went to voicemail.

"Yeah, Mikey, what's up?"

"Obviously not you," Michael replied dryly.

"Woah, what got into your yogurt this morning? It's only...oh, crap." He glanced at the clock and noted that it was 8:14. "The airport."

"Nine a.m., Sam. We're going to be late." He paused. "We're waiting downstairs."

Sam groaned and forced himself into a sitting position. "No problem, Mike. I'll be down in five."

Good thing he packed the day before. After ending the call, he hastily grabbed his clothes and jumped into the shower. He multi-tasked, soaping himself down and brushing his teeth at the same time. Fortunately, his mind wasn't so fuzzy that he got the toothpaste mixed up with the liquid soap, or he would have had a very unpleasant morning. He quickly rinsed, spit, and lathered up his hair before ducking under the spray and finishing the job. He ran a towel haphazardly over himself, dressed, and glanced in the mirror. Blinking, he realized something he'd forgotten and reached for the little case on the counter. A few seconds later, he could see clearly again and inspected the budding stubble on his jawline. He shaved last night for the dinner date, so he didn't need to worry about that for another three or four days at least, until the scruff became unattractive to the ladies. He slipped a comb from the drawer, ran it through his hair, and splashed on some cologne. Sam Axe was ready for action.

He grabbed his suitcase, which sat near the door, and quickly left the apartment. If only he'd had time for a cup of coffee, but that would have to wait until they reached the airport. As he pushed open the glass door that led from the apartment lobby to the steps, he noted Michael propped himself against the Charger, glancing at his watch. Sam grinned and asked, "So how'd I do, Mikey?"

"Amazing. You still had 20 seconds left."

Sam laughed. "I told you five minutes, didn't I? I'm nothing if I'm not a man of my word."

Fiona stood next to the open trunk, into which Sam threw his luggage. She slammed it hard, almost catching his hand in it, and he gave her a hard look. "You said you would be at the loft at 7:00."

"Oh...yeah...sorry about that. Yvette invited me over for dinner last night, and..."

"Say no more, Sam." Fiona held up a hand to stop him and turned away. "I'd rather not hear the details."

"But nothing happened. I swear! We just talked."

Fiona ignored him as she got into the back seat. Michael kept an eye on his friends as he sat in the driver's seat and Sam rode shotgun. It was a quiet ride to the airport until Sam broke the ice.

"Any new information on Roche and his escapade?"

"No, unfortunately. Hopefully once we get there and find the diamond seller that they're planning on robbing, we can stake things out for a few days."

"I think we should survey the marina," Fiona suggested as she crossed her legs and swung her free leg absently. "Find the Lorelei."

"That's a good idea, Mike." Sam paused and glanced at his friend. "Maybe you and Fi can pretend to be some high class people, come up with a good cover story to get you close to Roche. Then we could work it from the inside out."

"We'd have to find the Lorelei first. No one seems to know where it's docked." Michael shook his head. "It's a great idea, but until we know where it is in Rio, we'll have to spend our time gathering more intel and hope we get lucky and find the yacht."

"Okay, however you wanna work this." Sam fell silent, wondering why there was a wall between himself and Michael and Fiona. He kind of wished Jesse could have made the trip so he wouldn't be the odd man out.

While they waited for boarding, Fiona took a trip to the ladies' room. It gave Sam an opening to speak to Michael. "Hey, what's up with you two this morning? Did I really get you that mad for being late?"

"No, Sam. It's Fiona. You know she's gotten to be really good friends with Yvette...and I think she feels a little protective towards her. You having dinner with her...alone...probably got her Irish temper up. Don't worry about it. She'll get over it, especially if nothing happened." He glanced at Sam over his sunglasses. "Nothing happened, right?"

Sam let out a sound of exasperation. "Didn't I already say that? Geez, Mike, you're just as bad as Fiona!"

"I guess I'm just kind of surprised, that's all. She's an attractive woman...but I suppose it's entirely possible for you to be just friends with her." He smirked. "Unusual, but possible."

"You're damn right, skippy." Sam crossed his arms and stared out at the tarmac. "It'd be like...lake dating my sister, Mikey."

"You don't have a sister, Sam."

Sam spun around to see Fiona standing behind him with an apologetic smile on her face. He squinted at her and replied, "Well, if I had one, she'd be like Yvette."

"Fair enough." Fiona nodded and her sour mood disappeared with the action. She stepped over to Michael's side and followed their gaze to the jet that waited for boarding.

"Ladies and gentlemen, flight 845 to Rio de Janiero, with stops in Mexico City and Bogota now boarding. Please have your boarding passes and passports ready."

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," Sam announced, grabbed his bag, and headed for the line without waiting for Fiona and Michael.

Fiona held Michael back with a hand on his arm. He glanced down at her grip and asked, "Fi, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Michael." She smiled, her lips holding a secret that was not for Sam's ears. "When I took my little detour, I called Yvette to get the real scoop on last night." One corner of her mouth tipped up as she continued, "Apparently Sam was telling the truth. And Yvette was quite disappointed, apparently."

"Really..."

"I think she's fallen in love with our wayward playboy." Fiona's eyes drifted to Sam and focused on him chatting up the gate attendant. Unfortunately for him, she was immune to his charms. "As long as Sam doesn't reciprocate, hopefully she'll get over it. If not...I'll give him no choice but to let her down...gently, of course."

Michael frowned and his voice took on a warning tone. "Fi, it's probably best not to get involved. Let them work it out between themselves. Yvette's an adult, she can handle this."

"You're right. I just can't help but be protective after all she's been through."

Michael nipped any further discussion in the bud by taking her elbow and guiding her toward the dwindling line. "We better get on that plane. We can talk about this later...much later."