A.N. And here is chapter 3! And I'm actually posting it on time! Hope you all enjoy. There's this chapter and then one or two more (depending on how I decide to split them) and the action begins.

There also does still appear to be an issue with FF's notification system, sadly. If people really aren't getting consistent notifications, I may hold off on posting. I'd hate to do that though...

Ah well, enough musing on my part! Without further ado, I hope you enjoy chapter three, which is mostly just lovely fluff!

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An hour and a half after Team One's disastrous debrief, Ed Lane finally exited the SRU building, headed for home. The debrief had been entirely unproductive, too full of angry yelling and scathing words. It had only served to work him up—and he'd been rather worked up to begin with, due to how badly the hot call had gone. Thus, it had taken him an hour of taking his anger out on the weights and the punching bag before he could even think about showering and going home.

He was the last of the team to leave and though it was early in the evening when he finally set foot outside, it still felt swelteringly hot. Toronto was in the middle of a week-long heat wave with no end in sight. He got into his car and winced as a blast of stale, molten-hot air hit him, looking forward to blasting the AC—though it would do nothing to change the fact that he was still fuming a little inside, unable to let go of his anger entirely. He buckled himself in, turned the key in the ignition, put two hands on the wheel, and froze.

Fifteen feet directly in front of his car, Sam's bike leaned innocently against the building. No, Ed thought dazedly. This is not happening. Not again. Ed knew for a fact that Sam had left more than an hour ago. The blond had hardly stuck around long enough to shower after the briefing, but Ed knew the exact moment that he'd left because he'd tried to talk to Ed before doing so. When Ed had been wailing away at the punching bag, out of the corner of his eye he'd seen Sam approach him hesitantly, fresh out of the shower.

Ed had studiously ignored him, even when Sam had started, "Hey, Ed… I just wanted to…"

Ed didn't know what the other man had been about to say, because at that moment he'd slammed his fist into the bag and turned to Sam. Ed hadn't said a word, but he hadn't needed to; his expression said it all. He'd let every ounce of his anger and frustration bleed out onto his face, silently daring the ex-soldier to say another word.

Sam had returned his stare evenly, before sighing, shoulders slumping. "Have a nice weekend, Ed," he'd murmured, before walking away.

Ed had felt a momentary sense of satisfaction upon seeing Sam wilt beneath his gaze, glad that the younger man felt his ire. But as the hour had passed, his anger had cooled somewhat and he mostly just felt tired.

So when Ed's eyes were met with the sight of Sam's lonely, abandoned bike, his immediate reaction was numbness, followed by disbelief, then guilt. Numbness because it took him a moment to process what he was seeing. Disbelief because this was too much like a morning three years ago outside of an active situation at a store. And guilt because of how he'd left things with Sam… sure Ed was still angry at the guy, but if something had happened to him…

Okay, don't leap to the worst case scenario, Ed, he counseled himself. There could be a perfectly good explanation, like that he decided to walk… five miles in 95° heat. It wouldn't be impossible, but it didn't make any sense when Sam's bike was in perfectly good condition and would get the trip done and its owner inside and out of the heat five times faster than walking would have.

Unless something was wrong with Sam's bike and he hadn't asked anyone else for a ride because of the fight Team One had had. Which just made Ed feel even more guilty.

Moving quickly, he exited the car and made his way over to the bike. Upon closer inspection, nothing seemed amiss—the tires weren't flat, no spokes were broken, the chain was still on track, brakes were in working order…

Dammit. Then where the hell is Sam? Pulling out his phone, Ed dialed Sam's number. It went straight to voicemail. Dammit! This was feeling more and more like déjà vu. Moving quickly, he hurried inside and spoke with several people, just to check that Sam had indeed left when he thought he had. Everyone he spoke with only confirmed that yes, Sam had left well over an hour ago.

Ed tried calling Sam again, but there was still no answer. Finally, Ed decided he was overreacting. Sam was probably fine and had just decided to walk in order to use the extra time to clear his head, just as Ed had with the punching bag. There were no signs of foul play and if the whole Oakes incident had never happened, Ed wouldn't have been worried. It was just that this was too similar to that hot call for him to truly let his mind be at ease. All during the drive home, he couldn't help but wonder…

(Flashpoint…Flashpoint…Flashpoint…Flashpoint)

During the half-hour leading up to dinner, Tulio dragged Sam into his bedroom where he promptly showed the SRU officer his Lego collection, proudly pointing out original designs—such as a flying pirate ship—as well as sets that he'd made by following directions to the letter. The nine-year-old then dumped a large bag of pieces into Sam's lap and flattened an instruction manual out in front of him, explaining that he hadn't been able to figure this one out yet. It took Sam a half a second to realize this was Tulio's way of asking if Sam would be willing to help him. Looking around the room, Sam was amused to realize that the Lego sets were the only things unpacked—with the exception of the kid's bed—but Sam's amusement quickly changed to a feeling of warmth, touched by the boy's gesture when he realized what that meant; the Legos were obviously Tulio's most prized possessions and the fact that he was asking Sam to help him with a set… well, Sam could guess that Tulio didn't let just anyone work with his Legos.

Time passed quickly, and before they were even halfway through the manual, David called them into dinner. Scurrying down the hall, Tulio led the way, exclaiming all the way, "Mom! Dad! Sam's helping me figure out the Snow-Destroyer 2000 deluxe set!"

"That's fantastic!" David replied enthusiastically, steering Tulio and everyone else into the dining room. "We've been trying to figure that thing out for a while now," he explained to Sam as they settled at the table, "and haven't been able to make heads or tails of it." He turned to shout for the one person still missing. "Alex! You coming?"

"Coming, coming!" she responded, hurrying into the room. "Geez! Glad to have that done!" she sighed with relief, sinking into a chair. "Those people at the office, I swear! I don't know how they managed before I came along; I've only been working there a week and it's clear they're in way over their heads."

David leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Then it's a good thing they hired you."

As the food began to circulate its way around the table, Sam took the opportunity to ask, "Where do you work, Alex?"

"I'm an engineer at a solar energy initiative company and right now we're working on launching a huge marketing campaign that management is entirely unprepared for. Apparently I have three weeks to fine-tune the engineering side of the project and then work with my team to translate 'tech-speak' into 'every-day-person-speak,' to quote my boss."

Sam winced in sympathy. "Sounds like the next few weeks are set up to be pretty stressful for you."

"True," she agreed, before adding with a smile, "but it'll be nothing compared to the stress of Witsec."

A lull occurred in the conversation as they finished passing the food, and Sam worried they were going to turn his question around and ask him about his own job—and he was already mentally kicking himself for raising the question in the first place. He could talk about it without discussing the unpleasant events of the day, but it would still put a sour taste in his mouth and bring the events back to the forefront of his mind, and he was having such a lovely time letting go of them.

He worried for naught, however, because the next question had nothing to do with his work.

"So where'd you grow up, Sam?" Libby asked curiously.

It surprised him to realize that that had never come up in his phone conversations with Libby, but then again, there was only so much they could talk about in six hours over three years. He was also aware that his life was a minefield of potentially unpleasant topics, and of all of the questions typically asked in a get-to-know-you sort of situation (work, family, siblings, friends, etc.) that was the least painful. "Oh, uh, here and there. We moved around a lot because my dad's in the military, so we base hopped every few years, so I've been everywhere from just outside Toronto to various places in the Middle East."

"Was that difficult?" David inquired curiously. "Growing up," he explained, "I only ever lived in one house, even through college, and Alex only moved twice, so until Witsec, neither of us had much experience uprooting."

Sam shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It wasn't that bad. Yeah, it was hard to lose all of the friends I'd made every few years, but I got used to it. My sisters had a harder time than I did…" Sam trailed off immediately, astonished at his slip up. Wow, I haven't made that mistake in a long time. Usually he never mentioned that he'd had two sisters, due to the painful questions that it would raise. He never let himself forget Sarah, but he didn't share her with just anyone; the memory was too painful. Not that the Riles were just anyone. He was already friends with Libby and he found himself liking Alex and David more and more, and could easily see them forming a friendship. But Sarah was not a topic for the first get-to-know-you dinner, so Sam dove into talking about Natalie instead, hoping they would forget the implication that he had another sister.

By the time dinner wrapped up, Sam was regaling them with the story of a time that Natalie had broken his parents' bedroom window playing baseball, and had promptly framed Sam for it.

As they cleared the dishes, Libby went up to her mom and asked, "Would it be all right if Sam and I were excused from cleanup? If you're interested," she directed her attention back to Sam, a mischievous smile on her face, "I'd love to slaughter you at basketball."

"Of course!" Alex nodded.

"Me too, me too!" Tulio cried, leaping up and down.

Libby frowned at him skeptically. "You don't even like basketball," she pointed out. "Are you just trying to get out of cleanup?"

Tulio folded his arms, face a mask of indignation. "I've never liked basketball before because it's boring to play with you. But maybe if Sam's on my team I'll actually win once!"

"Sure, shorty," Libby nodded indulgently, before adding, "I guess everyone needs a dream to hold onto."

Tulio opened his mouth, no doubt about to shout something in outrage, but Libby turned around and took off running. "Last one out there's a rotten egg!"

And just like that, the need to defend his honor got overtaken by the need to not lose to his older sister. Tulio took off after her, shouting, "No fair, no fair! You had a head start!"

Before following them, Sam turned to Alex and David. "Are you sure you two don't want help in here?"

David shook his head. "No no, we'll manage just fine on our own. In fact we'd most appreciate it if you went out there and prevented those two from exhausting each other with insults, and also gave Libby some real competition."

"Yes," Alex interjected, "she far surpassed our skills over a year ago and we were never really in one place long enough for her to make friends to practice with, and she absolutely won't let us live it down!"

Sam smiled. "She planning on playing on a team?"

"Probably once she gets settled in school and the season starts, yes. She'll be the best player on the team," David remarked proudly.

"I have no doubt about that," Sam agreed. "I think that she has enough determination and enthusiasm that she'll accomplish whatever she puts her mind to. The world had better watch out. Speaking of which, I had better make my way out there before those two decide to gang up on me and score a bunch of points while I'm not there."

He headed out, back through the garage and to the concrete pad. He stood to the side, watching Libby first dribble circles around her brother, then pretend to lose control. Seizing the moment, Tulio pounced on the opportunity and stole the basketball away from her. Libby cried out in mock dismay as he raced to the basket (forgetting to dribble and instead carrying it the entire way) and threw the ball up in the air. The basketball came nowhere close to even touching the net, but Tulio didn't care. He pumped his fist in glee, thrilled that he'd one-upped his sister.

Sam smiled and went to join them, snatching the basketball up from where it had fallen after Tulio's attempt. Both kids' eyes lit up when they saw him and Tulio immediately declared that Sam was on his team. Passing the ball to Libby, Sam squared off with her, ready to start a game. As she made her move, spinning past him and effortlessly executing a layup that ended with the ball swishing through the hoop, Sam felt the last remnants of guilt, worry and stress of the day fade away. His entire body was still sore, and he knew he'd have to be careful with his right leg in particular, but he could forget all of that and just enjoy playing with Tulio and Libby.

Libby was indeed incredibly good. She outclassed Sam without a doubt, but he was able to put up enough of a fight that she had to work for the sixteen point lead she had after thirty minutes into the game.

After one of his shots bounced off the rim and she caught the rebound, he blocked her into a corner.

Crouched down, dribbling the ball back and forth between her legs, always keeping it just out of his reach, she grinned at him. "Getting tired there, Sam?"

"Tired?" he huffed, sweat dripping down his face—it was still at least eighty degrees out, even though dusk had started falling. "Nah, what are you talking about?"

Her grin grew wider. "Oh nothing, I just think you might be showing your age."

He raised his eyebrows. "You saying I'm old?"

"Yup. Absolutely. Old and tired. Want to know how I know?"

"Oh please, enlighten me."

"Because there's no way you're going to be able to move fast enough to stop what I'm about to do." And with that, she lunged to the left and Sam followed her movement to block her, but then she expertly twisted the other direction, and suddenly she was behind him. The only thing between her and the basket then was Tulio. Her brother took one look at his sister charging towards him, and he turned tail and fled. Libby pulled up ten feet short of the net and performed a stunning fade-away shot that buried itself in the hoop.

She whirled to face Sam—who had made no move to follow her once she'd made it past him, fully recognizing when he'd been beat—and challenged him, "Beat that!"

After that incredible display, Sam knew the game was effectively over, but he put in a valiant effort anyway, thoroughly relishing his time with the two Riles.

At one point he passed the ball to Tulio then swooped down to pick him up and put him on his shoulders. They made their way to the basket and the boy was finally able to get a shot to go in. He sat in stunned silence for a second, before throwing both of his fists in the air and shrieking with glee.

"I did it! I did it!"

Small hands gripped Sam's hair excitedly and Tulio shouted, "Sam! Let's do it again!"

They still lost the game—the final score was sixty to thirty-eight—but they had fun doing it. Eventually they admitted defeat and made their way back inside to the blessed coolness of an air-conditioned house, all three of them drenched.

Libby quickly got everyone a glass of water and began regaling her parents with a play-by-play of her victory. Sam listened, amused, but also a little awkward. He was sweaty enough that he didn't want to sit down or go farther into their house than the kitchen, and looking at the time, he thought he should probably be getting out of their hair pretty soon. It was only then that he realized he had absolutely no mode of transportation beyond walking, and that wasn't really an option, given that it would take him a good three hours to make it home.

When everyone else moved to go to the family room, then noticed that he hadn't followed, they turned and looked at him expectantly.

"Um," he started hesitantly, "I should probably be getting back. You've been more than generous with your time and I don't want to impose on you—"

He was cut off by four different replies.

"Oh nonsense. You aren't imposing!"

"It's no trouble! We're happy to have you."

"You're leaving?!"

And finally, "Wait! You can't leave!" Libby exclaimed. "There's a movie we need to watch together, remember?"

Sam looked at her in confusion, before recalling that Libby had discovered during one of their phone conversations that Sam had not gone to see Finding Dory in the theaters. Upon learning this, Libby had then told him he was not allowed to see it without her. And she promised that she wouldn't see it, either, so that they could see it with each other on the day they were finally able to meet again in person.

"I bought it the moment it came out but haven't watched it since then," she explained.

Sam looked down at himself, taking in his sweaty clothing, then looked back and met Libby's eyes. And he caved. He hadn't really wanted to leave yet, anyway, and with every member of the family telling him to stay, he was more than happy to oblige. "Well all right. Do you mind if I take a shower first?"

"Of course not!" David told him, just as Libby plugged her nose and said, "Please do."

"Libby!" Alex exclaimed, reaching over and smacking her daughter lightly on the head.

Libby squawked in good-natured indignation and apologized immediately, but the gleam in her eyes told Sam she'd only been teasing.

Sam couldn't help his amazement at how openly and willingly they'd welcomed him into their family, because it was very apparent to him that that was exactly what they were trying to do. They were making it clear to him that he belonged, as if it had never been a question in the first place. And who was he to say no to such a generous, guileless offer of friendship and acceptance? Following everyone farther into the house, Sam's heart felt full.

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A.N.2. I just want to give Sam a hug. He deserves so many hugs.

Also, the Lego set Tulio mentions is completely fictional. And if memory serves me, Sam's deceased sister is never named. Therefore I named her Sarah. Please correct me if I am wrong! And I also don't think we learn much about Sam's childhood/where he grew up? Goodness, clearly I need to re-watch some of Flashpoint.