A/N: Thank you to all who have continued to read and especially those who have reviewed! This "epilogue" closes out this portion of our story. If you'd like to see more of Mercy and Sam, let me know! I might be able to come up with another scene or two - or suggest what you'd like to see! I do take requests! ~~~~LG

There is a certain satisfaction that comes from a job well done and a different kind of satisfaction that comes from just finishing a job. Good or bad, it doesn't much matter. Just being rid of the whole thing is satisfaction in its own right.

Once the CIA had taken care of Junior and the Columbians, they set about the business of toppling Roger Devine's house of cards. The story hit the press with a bang. "Dead Millionaire Former Ambassador Exposed as Son Arrested With Columbian Drug Lords." Lovely. That had to hurt.

No mention was made of the former ambassador's widow. It was as if she simply never existed. Whatever relationship Mercy had with Brandt Wilson, she obviously left her mark to have him bury her that well. Within 24 hours, all of Mercy's records were amended so that no trace of the last name Devine remained, even her off shore accounts.

After her records had been fixed, Mercy thanked my mother for her hospitality, packed her bags, and took a room at the Fontainbleau while she contemplated her next move.

Mom had truly come to like Mercy and was sad to see her go. So much so that she pointed out that the house across the street from hers was for sale. She mentioned what a nice, quiet neighborhood it was and handed her the Realtor's card.

Mercy promised that she'd call the Realtor in the morning and take a look at the house. She also promised to come back for Tuesday poker night with Mom and Fi. There was something frightening about that.

XXXXX

By sunset, Mercy had settled into her suite and had taken a seat on the balcony to watch the sunset and contemplate her future.

"Want to get some dinner?" Sam asked, handing her a cold bottle of beer.

Mercy shrugged and took a long drink.

"Okay, Giggles," Sam said, sitting down on the chair next to hers, "What's eating you?"

"I've got to come up with a game plan, Sam," she said, "I can't just hole up here, drinking beer and waiting for you to show up."

He took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. "I dunno, I kinda like that arrangement."

"Yeah, and in two weeks I'll be fat, bored, and broke from shopping on QVC."

"So, what are you thinking?" he asked, as a terrible thought crossed his mind. "You are staying in Miami, aren't you?"

Mercy smiled at him, "Do you want me to?"

Relief crossed his features, "Of course I do."

Mercy wasn't convinced. "You do realize that things are going to be different if I stay?"

"I'm counting on it."

"You're going to have some one to answer to…"

"Someone to come home to…" he countered.

"Someone besides Sam Axe to worry about."

"I can do commitment," he said, then with a grin, "Or at least I can learn."

"I can help, you know. With Michael…your jobs…"

"Merce…" he warned.

"Sammy, I am still on top of my game! You know me."

"It's been a while."

Color flashed in her cheeks. "Are you afraid that I've lost my skills? Because I can still out shoot you and run faster than you, even in heels…"

"Whoa, Hot Stuff," he laughed, "Hold on. I have no doubt that your skills are still as sharp as the last time we worked together."

"Then what's the hesitation for?"

"This is a whole different ball game. You'd be going in purely freelance. There is no golden parachute, no get out of jail free card. I don't know if I want to drag you into…"

"Hold up!" she said, raising a hand. "I honestly don't know if I'm touched by your concern and worry for my safety or if I want to knee you in the nuts for treating me like some simple minded female."

He winced, "Go with the first one, that's how I meant it."

Mercy sighed and massaged her temples. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."

Sam knelt in front of her. Taking her hands from her temples, he held them. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I want you to stay?"

"You're doing it," she smiled, "Keep going…"

Sam was on a roll and kept going. "Tomorrow, you're going to get up and call that Realtor. We're going to go look at that house across the street from Madi's."

"I am, huh?"

He nodded, "You want to help Michael? That's step one. You'll be right across the street from Madi, you can keep an eye on her. Think about it, you'll be better than any high priced security."

"And where will you be living? With Madi or with me?"

"That's up to you," he honestly said, "But I'd really like to be with you." Sam gave her his most sincere Boy Scout look. He'd perfected the mock sincerity and it worked wonders on women. Funny thing about it was that this time, he really was sincere.

And just like that, Mercy made up her mind. "Let's hope this Realtor knows how to work with off shore accounts."

"In Miami? Easy Peasy," Sam dismissed.

"Then it's settled. I'm staying."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, "I knew you'd see things my way."

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," she laughed.

Like in most situations, Sam had no idea just what he was getting himself into, but this time, he had to admit, it didn't matter at all.