A/N: So... I've been productive today... In this, anyway. Not in studying for finals. I'm officially five chapters ahead of myself. Epic Win.

"All of this could have easily been forged," Michael said stubbornly, pointing at the manilla folders when Samantha returned. She smiled, amused.

"Yes, it could have," she replied. She waved another folder in the air before setting it down beside the old ones. "Here's more if you're interested. I'm just trying to help you out, Michael."

"How did you meet my dad?" Michael asked, ignoring the new folder. Sam shrugged, taking her seat on the edge of the table.

"He found me. Like I said, he did extensive research on everyone close to you. I guess he figured I was trustworthy because he told me what he found about Larry, Sam and Fiona, wanting my help to warn you."

"Why did he need your help?" Michael asked. Sam laughed.

"Would you have believed him? You're having a hard enough time believing me, Michael!"

Michael was quiet for a moment, seeing her point. He still wasn't convinced, however. "Why did he fake his own death?"

This question seemed to make Samantha uncomfortable. "To be honest, Michael, I don't know," she replied quietly. "And, no, I haven't asked him. Though he may be a good guy, he does kind of creep me out sometimes. There are some things I just don't need or want to know."

"But you're still willing to work with him," Michael stated, tone annoyed. Sam threw him an irritated glare.

"For you, yes! How many times do I have to tell you I'm only doing this to help you?"

"You're trying to turn me against two of the only people I trust, Sam," Michael growled lowly. Sam threw her hands into the air.

"Because you shouldn't trust them!"

"Don't you think I would've done my own research on them? Don't you think it would take a lot for me to trust someone, especially in the position that I'm in?" Michael argued, voice rising, wishing he could be a bit more imposing than he was with his injured foot.

"I don't doubt that, Michael, but obviously you missed something," Sam replied, her own voice steadily calm. "I know this hurts. Sam's your best friend and you're in love with Fi--"

Michael coughed back a laugh of disbelief.

"--But you can't afford to look over the facts here!" she exclaimed, jabbing a finger down on the folders. "Otherwise you'll wake up one day with a gun to your head and no one to go to for help."

Michael continued to glare at her, folding his arms stubbornly. Samantha sighed heavily, rolling her eyes.

"Look, Michael. I can't make you believe me. We both know that it's pointless for me to try and I wouldn't try anyway. You have to recognize the truth on your own," she said, sliding off the table. "And the truth is that I'm painfully sorry about this. I really am."

"Stop apologizing, Sam," Michael bit quietly, eyes focused on the spot she'd just been. Sam let out a shuddering breath before nodding to herself. Michael recognized her somber attitude and looked up.

"Sam, it's... I trust you, but... my father..."

Sam's smile was small. "I know. I understand. I'm just..."

"Trying to help," Michael finished for her. "But I can't put my trust into something that my dad could have twisted."

Samantha nodded. "I can understand that, Michael, which is why I'm trying to tell you that he hasn't twisted it. I know it's hard to believe because you've worked with Sam and Fiona for so long, but you should be able to accept the fact that sometimes people surprise you."

"I am, Sam," Michael assured her, reaching out to rest a hand on her arm. "I'm just not willing to believe it yet. There isn't enough proof."

Sam nodded. "Well, then. I'll just have to find more for you." She placed a hand on top of his, both of them silent for a while.

"You know, when I got to Chicago after we finished that business with Brennen, Charlie asked about you," Sam said quietly. Michael looked up to meet her eyes questioningly. She smiled slightly at him. "He asked who you were. I wasn't entirely sure what to say."

"What did you say?" Michael asked, voice just as quiet and reverent as hers. Sam laughed softly.

"I told him you were an old friend. Which I found a bit of an understatement."

Michael laughed as well. Sam squeezed his hand. "Maybe someday I'll be able to explain to him."

Michael wasn't exactly sure how to reply to that, so he opted for silence. Sam reached her hand out to brush Michael's cheek gently, walking to the door at the same time. Michael followed her with his gaze, finding he was completely confused now. Samantha had really never fully moved on, had she? Had Michael?

XxXxX

Michael wasn't entirely positive of how long he'd been here. He hadn't seen much of Frank lately, thank goodness, and every time Samantha returned she had more evidence against Sam and Fiona. Michael couldn't deny it was pretty damning. And pretty damn convincing. A smarter, stronger man would have accepted the facts and done something about it, but Michael wasn't willing to give up on Sam and Fiona yet. How could they have done this? Fi, especially! Ever since the moment they met... Michael tried hard not to think about it too much.

Every time Samantha gave Michael more evidence, the tension between them increased. At one point, frustrated with the proof she'd given him, Michael had slammed the documents on the floor and limped away, unable to take it any longer. Only moments later he felt Sam's tender hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently. Without a word, Michael tensed, trying to decide how to react. Her fingers slipped past his collar as she rubbed his shoulders, touching his bare skin. Michael involuntarily shuddered at her touch and found himself turning to face her. Lips touched and Michael found himself falling fast into an abyss of edgy disquiet.

A/N: One request: Don't eat me. Please. :)

I love reviewers and live for constructive criticism! And that doesn't mean telling me Michael would never kiss Sam, because I will just point you to Sins of Omission. He was kissing her back, thank you very much.