"What happened to you?" Coleman asked the second Sam walked in. "Last I checked, it wasn't raining." Sam rolled her eyes as she sqeegeed her soaking wet hair, letting the water drip onto the floor. "Hey, hey!" Coleman yelped. "Ain't no way I'm mopping up after you, darling."

"Not in a good mood, Coleman," she snapped. Hours and hours of scuba diving and she still hadn't found the damn ships.

Coleman leered at her. "I could fix that. Maybe start out with some dinner..."

Sam had to laugh at that. "Oh, come on, Coleman. Guys like you don't do dinner, you just...do."

Coleman tilted his head, considering. "Might be right at that."

"Damn straight," Sam muttered, stomping up the stairs.

Sam flipped her soaking hair over one shoulder, as she opened her door. She was pretty good at scuba diving, but not great at it. And since the Cassadine sink was under the Quartermaine ship, there was a very good chance she won't be able to get to it. That was fine though, since she still had the Quartermaine ship to ransack.

Now, if she could just find the damn ships, she'd be set.

But Sam had spent over a year planning this, and she wasn't about to back out now. And it wasn't even a crime she needed to feel guilty about. Both the Cassadines and Quartermaines were loaded, and they'd never miss a treasure they didn't even know existed.

Sam, however, could use that money. Maybe for a Lambourgini.

It had been days without any sight of Jason Morgan. Sam was relieved, because she really didn't need any potential distractions. Not that Jason had the potential to be a distraction. He was just a one-night stand. A close call.

Sam put him out of her mind.

But it became a little bit harder to do so when her period, which had always been regular, was late by two days.

Then three days.

Then five.

Finally a week.

Then two weeks.

It was three weeks before Sam could bring herself to consider the possibility. The highly remote possibility, since they'd used a condom and despite what TV made you think, condoms did not break all the time. Sure, they could and did break, but not every single time.

There was no way she could be pregnant.

Except for the fact that her period had always been regular since the time she was sixteen.

Crap.

"What's the matter with you, Dollface?" Coleman asked.

Sam shrugged. She wasn't even sure if she should be in Jake's. The secondhand smoke could be bad for the baby...

Wait a minute. There was no baby. No baby.

Coleman was staring at her. Clearly, he'd said something and she'd failed to respond. "You want a drink?"

"Can't," Sam responded. Pregnant or not--and she wasn't pregnant--she really couldn't afford to get drunk now.

Coleman stared at her, his mouth falling open. "Say what? Baby, you always want a drink. You down the tequila like it's water every night, without fail, and here you are telling me you don't want a drink?" He shot her a wary look. "All right, who the hell are you and where's the real Sam?"

"Oh, bite me."

"Now, now, I might have to a full-body examination," Coleman said. "You know, just to make sure it's really you."

Sam smacked him on the arm. "Pig."

"All right, so what's really going on then?" he inquired, then his face darkened. "And please don't tell me this has anything to do with Jason Morgan."

She looked up at him through her bangs. "Possibly."

"Oh, hell." Coleman looked up at the ceiling, as if asking for help from a Higher Power. "Now, I thought you were going to stay away from him."

"I was. I am," she insisted. "It's just--" she trailed off in horror. Dear God, was she really about to spill this to Coleman? Coleman, the sleazy bartender who would tell anyone anything for the right price? "Never mind," she muttered, getting up. "I gotta go."

At the convenience store, the cashier raised an eyebrow at the three pregnancy tests, but didn't say anything.

As she walked outside with her purchases, Sam nearly ran into--

--Jason, talking urgently to a woman with long blond hair. "I don't like it, Courtney--"

"Well, that's just too bad," the woman said, clearly irritated. "Jax is helping me with the foundation. And I don't care if you and Sonny don't approve of him, because I am not living by your rules anymore."

So. This was the ex-wife. Sam noticed, almost detached, that she was very pretty. Blonde, curvy, tall. The bag bumping against her thigh jolted Sam back to reality.

She shouldn't be here.

As Sam slunk away, back to Jake's, she couldn't help but remember the way Jason had looked at his ex-wife--like she was the only thing that really mattered.

Sam was on the verge of a total meltdown. Three pregnancy tests. Three. And all of them, every single one, had the same answer.

God, she was screwed. Sam wanted to cry. She wanted to throw up--could that be morning sickness? Could she get morning sickness this early?

This was not happening. She could not be pregnant with the child of a mob enforcer. How the hell had this happened?

The unbidden image of Jason's rock-hard abs came to mind. Oh yeah. Sam started to pace in the tiny bathroom. Options.

Abortion. Adoption. Telling Jason. Becoming a single mom.

Sam reviewed her choices. Telling Jason--God, was that a conversation she didn't want to have. Telling him wasn't a possibility. He'd probably just tell her to get rid of it anyway, right? Hell, he might even pay her off.

Being a single mother. Sam scoffed at the thought. Her, a single mom? Please. She was not mother material. She was a drifter/con artist. She had no permanent home, nothing to offer this child...hell, it wasn't like she'd even had good role models. Cody had been a joke as a parent, and Evelyn...hadn't been a mother at all. And what the hell was she supposed to do, schedule feedings in between jobs?

Then there was adoption. Sam couldn't it happening. She couldn't see herself carrying a child for nine months and then having the strength to hand it over to someone else. She'd probably do something idiotic, like decide to keep the baby.

Baby. Oh, God.

She only had one choice left.

So, that was it. She'd made the best choice she could. That was it, and there was no reason for her to cry.

But she did anyway.

"You all right, McCall?" Coleman asked as she came downstairs the next morning.

"Just peachy," Sam muttered, knowing she looked like hell. Limp hair she'd tied back into a ponytail, red-rimmed eyes from crying herself to sleep. "Got a phone book? I need to look something up." Coleman wordlessly handed it to her, and Sam turned to the C's.

For clinics.

"Miss?" The woman's voice was muffled, since she was trying to Sam through a bathroom door. "Miss, are you all right?"

Am I all right? No, you old cow, I am fucking not all right, I just burst into tears in the middle of your waiting room!

"I'm fine," Sam shouted. "Just--give me a minute, okay?" She hastily splashed some cold water on her face.

When she finally came out, the elderly receptionist was gone, and a pretty young woman was standing there instead. "Are you all rihgt?" she asked. The obvious compassion in her eyes and voice made Sam burst into tears all over again.

"Shit," she muttered, wiping them away hastily. Not that it did much good, new tears kept falling. "I'm sorry, but I can't--seem to get ahold of myself."

"Hey--why don't we go somewhere and talk?" she offered. "My name's Emily."

"I'm Sam."

"So," Emily said, as they sat down in chairs. "how far along are you"

"Uh...about three and a half weeks," Sam muttered. "God, I can't believe I burst into tears back there. Must be the hormones."

Emily nodded. "Or," she suggested, "maybe it's the fact that you're not ready to make this kind of decision yet."

"I--I don't really have any other options," Sam said dully.

"Well, you know there's always adoption, if you feel you can't keep this baby," Emily pointed out. "What--what does the father think about this?"

Sam let out a choked laugh. "He doesn't know. God, he'd--he'd probably just tell me to get rid of it. Not much room for a kid when you're a mob enforcer."

Shit. She had not just said that out loud. Sam turned to Emily, scared. "Oh, God, I didn't mean to say that--"

"Don't worry," Emily reassured her. "There's a seal of confidentiality from the moment you stepped in."

Sam relaxed somewhat. "And you can't repeat this to anyone, right?"

"Right."

"Good," Sam said. "The last thing I need is for him to find out...he just got divorced, the last thing he would want is a kid..."

If Sam hadn't been so distraught, she might have noticed Emily stiffening in the chair at her words. "He just got divorced, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Is--it is Jason Morgan?"

Sam turned to her. "What, you know him?"

Emily's eyes grew huge. "I--uh, I know of him," she said vaguely. "Small town." She paused. "So...he is the father, then."

Sam decided to just admit it. She was safe, anyway, because of the confidentiality. "Yeah, he is. I was in Jake's...he was there...it was just one night. I didn't even--God, I didn't even know his last name, much less what he did for a living." She paused. "Guess that makes me a slut, huh?"

"No," Emily said quickly.

They sat there in silence. Finally, Emily said quietly. "Maybe...maybe you should tell him. He might surprise you."

Sam laughed as she stood up. "Doubtful."

"Well...are you going to think some more before you reach a decision?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. I mean--I don't know. We'll see." She quickly left.