-March-

Mercedes sat on her bed in the hotel, fresh from the shower. She was riding on the tail end of the fresh euphoria instilled in her only a couple hours earlier, and had finally settled down from her high enough to finish up her note for the April issue of REAL. There were plenty of moments where she was happy that Sam accepted her but she couldn't help the self-sabotage that poked at her thoughts. On top of the fact that they hadn't used protection, she kept thinking about the fact that Sam never really said he wanted her too. It was implied, certainly but she really hoped she would hear it from him tonight when he came by. While she started to proof-read the note, she received a call from Tina.

"Hey Tina. We're still going dress shopping for the party this weeke—"

"Mercedes, where've you been? I've been trying to reach you for the past few hours! There's a problem!"

Her brows furrowed and when she pulled the phone away from her ear, she noticed that she did, in fact have several missed calls and a couple of voicemails from Tina.

"Sorry," she finally said, "I…got caught up at the office and hadn't taken my phone off silent since I got back at the hotel. What happened?" Right away, she gasped and asked, "Is it Jackson?"

"No, Jackson's fine."

"Is it Mike?"

"It's not Mike! Listen, one of the accountants called me on my cell when I left the office. You didn't wanna be disturbed all afternoon so they thought it was best to call me…anyway, they said a large sum of REAL's profits have gone missing."

Mercedes' tone immediately changed with the shift in her mood, "How much?"

Tina hesitated for a moment but quietly answered, "Around $250,000."

"What?! How in the hell does a quarter million dollars go missing!?"

She heard Tina take a deep breath and add, "There's more…"

"Great. Let me guess…"

Tina's words sounded distant, yet clear as she gravely replied, "The unaccounted funds are being linked back to you, Mercedes."

Mercedes' froze but shock and outrage immediately shattered through. It hadn't been anything close to the sarcastic guess she was going to pitch to Tina. "They think I'm embezzling from my own company?!"

"Yes…t-there's all these records showing large withdrawals from the company's profits and they're all under your name but the use for them isn't documented."

After a long, long blink, Mercedes opened her eyes, letting the outrage snuff the shock. "I'm not embezzling from REAL—Tina you know how much this company means to me!"

"I know, Mercedes, I know. That's why I've been calling you so much—I didn't think you knew about it already but you needed to know. What are you going to do?"

"I need to call Sebastian…I…I don't know what else to do. I don't have the money, Tina so I need to try and figure out who'd be using my name to take my mo—"

Her sentence cut off while the realization slapped her across the face. Nothing ironic about that.

"Mercedes?" Tina spoke up, panicked still.

"I'm here. But I'll call you later. Or tomorrow, Tina. I need to call Sebastian, now."

"But Mercedes, who do you think—"

"Tina who else might possibly get away with using my name to access the funds to my business?"

Tina went quiet but only a second later did she gasp into the phone, "Shane?"

"Yep. I gotta go Tina."

"Okay, okay," Tina hastily replied. "Call me b—oh crap, Jackson's crying."

"It's fine, go be with him. I'll call you after I figure this out."

They ended their call and after one long, loud angry groan, Mercedes went to call Sebastian but to her surprise, he'd beat her to it in the midst of her searching her contacts for his number.

"Mercedes, I'm sorry to call so late but I might have a lead on who's coming after REAL, and Lauren and I are meeting this weekend to coordinate for your div—"

"Sebastian hold up. I know who's coming after REAL…or at least I have a really, really strong hunch and you're not gonna believe it."

"If you say Shane Tinsley, then consider me a believer."

Her eyes bulged, "How'd you know already?"

"I told you I had a lead, didn't I?"

At his witty reply she rolled her eyes but listened on. "I got in touch with some old colleagues from law school to see if they were advising any of their clients through large stock purchases recently. Some of them weren't so forthcoming to talk to me—attorney-client confidentiality and all, but others…well loose lips sink ships after all. Long story, short I got led from person to person until my trail of calls ended with one attorney who used to intern aspiring sports agents and attorneys. Dave Karofsky…"

Sam was repeatedly flexing and relaxing his fist against the armrest of the lounge chair. He knew he'd be risking getting in trouble for talking on his cell phone while on the clock but—christening the elevator while on the clock was plenty daring, so he decided to push his luck and let Karofsky talk.

"I got a call last week from a former intern of mine. He's an attorney now but he called me looking for advice."

"That's nice," Sam interjected curtly," does this story have a point?"

"Yes," Dave replied professionally. "I never told you this before and it's the reason I'm apologizing to you now, but that intern…he's really the reason you hadn't received compensation for your injury—not me. I do take partial blame, Sam. I was trying to teach him and at the time, he was learning to make decisions on cases. I only stood as a figurehead in the courtrooms because he wasn't officially allowed to represent anyone at the time. But I let him call the shots while I presented his cases in the courtroom. With your case…I didn't agree with his decision and he knew that, but it didn't change the outcome which was...I went ahead with his case."

All of the flexing and relaxing ceased; Sam's fists were both tight around his phone and sitting firmly on the armrest but he couldn't keep still, so he moved to rubbing his knee, harshly. He wanted to reach through the phone and close one of those fists around Karofsky's windpipe but instead he tried for fishing a name out of his former attorney.

"What's this guy doing now?"

"Well, I told you—he's an attorney like me. New, sort of still getting his feet wet and all with only a few years under his belt. But he's closing in on a huge investment that I know is going to cost him a fortune so I'm sure his firm's doing great. He told me he's buying up a bunch of shares in this local magazine company. REAL or something?"

Sam's entire frame went rigid. He wanted to ask Dave questions to get absolute, undisputable clarity but Dave went on in his speech, giving Sam plenty of reason to listen sharply.

"You know…When I looked into that magazine company to try and find out why he's trying to screw them over, I was pretty shocked to find out that the CEO's his own wife. Guess there's trouble in paradise, huh?"

"You could say that," Sam mumbled viciously while trying to rub the angry throbbing from his temples with his free hand. "Why are you telling me all this, Karofsky?"

Dave's strong tone wavered, "Well…through a little more digging, I found out that you're employed there and…I figured the least I could do was give you a heads up to maybe make up for what happened after your injury. If my old intern pulls off this stunt and gets a hold of those shares, the company's gonna go under according to him. I figure I could let you know now so you could try and look for some new employment."

Before Karofsky had finished explaining, Sam was seeing red; not only was his former attorney trying to kill his own guilt by doing Sam a "favor", but Mercedes' ex-husband was the one who had her ready to pull her weave out over this share-buying problem. Had Mercedes and her husband been carrying on a happy, healthy marriage, Sam wouldn't have blinked an eye over Shane's interest in his wife's company. But Sam knew better; he knew of Shane's abusive, belittling ways and that he and Mercedes were in the process of divorcing. It didn't take much for Sam to put the pieces together but one more question did manage to escape him, despite his white hot fury he was currently harboring, but he didn't want to let Dave know how much he already knew about Mercedes' ex-husband.

"Why would this guy want to buy out the shares, just to turn around and destroy the company?"

Sam could almost see Karofsky shrug, "Feeding the market? I don't think the destruction would happen instantaneously but I don't know the details so maybe I'm wrong. He could have people's positions shuffled around within the company, or sell portions of the business to others without telling them his plan to drive it in the ground while making himself more money. I really don't know but what I do know is…he's pretty ruthless. Anyway, I need to get going. I just wanted you to know. And to apologize for not coming clean about your trial sooner."

"I know I should thank you but I can't. If you think this makes up for what you let happen four years ago, it doesn't."

"Well wha—"

"I don't want anything else from you," he spat but quickly re-thought the harsh words that shot off his tongue. "Except…for one thing."

Dave paused with hesitance and then asked, "What is it?"

"When this all comes to a head, and you know it will, you're gonna have to testify against your old intern. If you really want to make things right with me and really kill your guilt—because I know that's what the hell your call was really about—then you'll testify in court when this all blows up in your old intern's face."

"You don't know that it won't…unless you're going to tell the CEO yourself."

Sam opened his mouth and started to say, "You're damn right I'm telling her," but his wit was about him again, allowing him to leave it at, "She's not going to give up her company without a fight—purchased shares or not."

"If he gets those shares, she wouldn't have a choice."

"She's not going to lose her company to that dipshit!" Sam retorted furiously. And without giving Dave a chance to retort or throw around legal terms and technicalities, he hung up and squeezed his phone even tighter.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw his phone and turn Mercedes' office upside down like the Tasmanian Devil, but a small but powerful part of him kept him in check.

"I need to get to Mercedes. She needs to know," he mumbled harshly to himself, crossing the room as quickly as his stiff leg would allow. He'd make up some illness to get out of the rest of his shift and head back to the hotel as fast as his screechmobile would allow. He couldn't figure out what was fueling his anger the most—the swiftness of how the evening changed from a delicious gambol in the elevator with the woman he was falling for, to the mere sight of Dave Karofsky's name appearing on the caller ID? Or was it the fact that Karofsky's call was downright selfish, regardless of the spin he tried putting on it? Or that Mercedes' own heartless bastard of an ex was trying to fuck her over, after having also been responsible for fucking him over years ago? All of the truths were mouthing to a heap of emotions Sam hadn't experienced since the day his trial had ended…

He'd been in his old apartment, ridding himself of the business suit he'd worn for the trial. Finn just left from watching over Danica while the trial had gone under way, leaving Sam alone with his weeks-old daughter. The judge's decision not to grant him compensation devastated him more than he thought it would; in fact, he had been certain that he was going to receive the compensation and then he would have some sort of aid for a little while with raising his daughter.

But that wasn't what happened. His sureness had been crushed to rubble when he heard Dave Karofsky rise from the seat beside him and apologize to the judge for a slapdash decision to motion for the compensation in the first place. Reparations for an athlete who would clearly never play again was an unfair expectation of the minor league.

The judge seemed genuinely surprised by Dave's lack of advocacy for his own client but the fact that it was all that was now being presented as it was, and that Sam was in too much shock to interrupt, led to a dismissal of the case—resulting in Sam walking away with nothing. He couldn't see anyone or anything as he walked out of the courthouse. He didn't see any of the sparse individuals who were sitting in on the trial—one of them had been the burly, remorseless Shane Tinsley.

The anger consumed Sam to the point where he was hardly seeing straight. He pulled his tie off with one hand while his other hand was supporting his weight on a cane, and then sat down, yanking article after article off as his attorney's traitorous words, and the judge's grave but resolute decision.

"Couldn't even look me in the fucking eye…" Sam mumbled, rocking back and forth with his hands pulling on the hair at either side of his head. He didn't know what to do with himself to let the anger go and it made him restless. He balled his fists up over his temples, only to drop them and bend forward, pulling his shoes roughly off his feet, repeating again, "Couldn't even look me in the fucking eye!"

His eyes stung with livid tears as the realization sunk further and further in his mind, winding him up until he snapped, staggering to his feet to pitch his shoe, hard across the room. The instant it left his hand he regretted it. The shoe slammed in to the barred front of Danica's crib, causing Sam's eyes to nearly fall out of their sockets. A second later, Danica had woken up from her nap, startled and filled the apartment with short, loud terrified cries.

The thick wall of anger building up inside Sam was effortlessly shattered by his daughter's cries. In its place, came the most difficult form of sorrow and guilt to console. He started towards the crib but the infantile pain in his knee retarded him, only adding to his pre-existing frustration and guilt. Eventually he made it to the crib and looked down at Danica's crying face. Her innocence and undeserved sadness broke Sam's heart. He reached inside without further hesitation and lifted her out, immediately covering her face with very gentle kisses. "It's okay, Danica…it's okay…Daddy's an idiot…shhh…sh-shh…"

His wife had been buried for only a few weeks. The only family he knew was halfway across the country. His career was over, and the last bit of hope for some financial security was gone. There wasn't anything holding him together anymore, except for the helpless life fussing in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Danica," he sobbed hysterically, cradling her tiny form to his chest. "…I'm so sorry. I don't know what I'm doing…I don't know what I'm going to do.

As he lamented to her, he slowly and painfully limped his way to the nearest seat while trying not to smother her too much. "I wish your mom was here. You deserve her here…not me. I'm so sorry for scaring you…I'm so sorry…"

He removed one hand from around her, long enough to wipe the tears and snot from his face, only to bend his head over his daughter and cry some more.

"I d-don't know what to do, Danica. I…I can't do this alone….Y-you deserve…s-so much more. I'm sorry…I'm s-sorry…"

Please leave reviews! As promised, a lot of revelations were coming very soon. Did I deliver? What did you think? Sorry to those who suspected Mercedes' parents or Sam to be the anonymous sharks! More is coming soon!

Chapter title: "Know Your Enemy" by Green Day