A/N - again, i own nothing you recognize, but everything you don't

chapter uno...u likey - please review!!!

One: Sam

"Eighty-nine, ninety, ninety-one," she breathed as she heaved her body up on the bar in her room. "Ninety-five, ninety-six,"

There was a knock on her door. She ignored it. "Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred." She dropped a few inches to the floor, picked up a blue towel lying on the end of her bed, and walked to the door, wiping her face that bore her efforts of the past half hour. Her arms ached from the chin ups, press ups and weights she had been lifting, and the rest of her ached from the sit ups, lunges, stretches and almost every other imaginable exercise activity one could do in your one's that she had just been doing.

She swung open the door, her chest rising and falling heavily, to see her friend Lila standing in front of her, her back poker-straight, her hands clasped behind her back, her feet planted solidly on the ground.

"Ugh," the brunette greeted. "Sam, you stink."

"Thanks. Exercise will do that. You should try it," Sam quipped, knowing full well that Lila woke up before three every morning and exercised solidly until seven, when she showered and went downstairs to eat. Sam herself preferred exercising during the day, when there was nothing else to do. The thought of waking up any time before five filled her with horror.

Lila raised an eyebrow. Sam knew she was amused but was trying to suppress the laugh. Lila never laughed if she could avoid it.

"Shower, then be downstairs by fifteen hundred hours." Lila said curtly.

"Why?" Sam asked, wiping her face again.

"There's someone here to see you."

Sam smiled. "Aw, Lila, you shouldn't have!"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, it's real sweet and all of you to go and get me a blind date, but, really, I'm fine with being single."

Lila snorted. She thought boyfriends, husbands; men in general, really, were pointless. She looked forward to the day women ruled the world. Sam thought the idea was hilarious. She agreed that boyfriends were a waste of time when one was a Navy SEAL, but as partners and team mates, men were useful enough.

"Go shower."

And with that the slightly older woman turned on her heel and stalked off down the corridor, passing the elevator and pushing open the stairwell door.

Sam rolled her eyes and, shaking her head almost imperceptibly, eased the door closed. She followed Lila's instructions, scrubbing her black hair almost fitfully. She was thinking about who could possibly be here to see her. If it had been family, Lila would have told her.

Then again, her family had no reason to come visit her. Her only living relative was Katie, her sister, who had just turned twenty-six and had triplets. Sam could not stand her sister's husband. She had met the man twice and both times they almost came to blows. Her hands curled into fists as she thought about it, before relaxing and going back to assisting the stream of water in rinsing out the remains of the shampoo.

No, family was not an option. Friends? She laughed. No. Her only friends were at the base, here, with her.

Who else? She paused, half-way through washing her face. Then she began again. She could think of no one else who would visit her, so it obviously was not anyone she knew. Maybe she was being arrested.

"Cool," she murmured to herself as she stepped out of the shower and yanked a large towel off of the rack.

By ten to three she was fully dressed in her uniform and heading downstairs. She did not notice that she was walking faster than usual, and that underneath her tight French braid, her neck was sweating.

What would anyone want with me? She was a Commander, in charge of Task Unit 8223, codenamed Wolf. She was highly ranked, and quite honestly, was not best liked for it. Most people, men especially, often treated her with disdain, apart from her team mates in Wolf, whom she had bailed out of trouble, and even rescued from death, numerous times. They were her only friends.

Lila was waiting for her in the lobby when she stepped out of the elevator. Sam was highly enough ranked to have her own apartment in the Commanders' building, instead of having to live in the barracks. She had hated the barracks. It was like boarding school all over again.

The two women marched towards the main building, an ugly, stereotypically militaristic piece of architecture with the SEALs' golden symbol over the main entrance. Lila showed her through the maze of corridors, and finally they stopped in front of two imposing double doors. Lila motioned for her to go in.

Sam pushed open the left door and stepped into the room.

A long, oval table was in the middle of the room, and at the far end about ten people were crowded around it. She recognized half of them, as several of them were her superior officers. They all looked up as she entered. She saluted them curtly, waiting as they returned the gesture, then sharply lowered her hand, watching as they did the same.

"Samantha," Commander Hawke barked. She did not like him, and he did not like her. He had flirted mercilessly with her two years ago when she joined the center, and one night he had, taken it too far.

She had hospitalized him.

His eyes followed her as she crossed the room towards them. Colonel Burkes motioned for her to take a seat opposite a platinum blonde woman. They were the only two sitting, and everyone else stood ominously over them.

Sam was almost bursting with curiosity, but stifled all her questions.

"Samantha Manson."

The woman spoke. Sam inspected her closely. She looked to be about forty, with silvering blonde hair, nondescript brown eyes and a pinched expression. But, Sam noticed, there were some severe laugh lines around her mouth, and pronounced crow's feet framed her eyes. She guessed that this woman was always up for a laugh if it was offered.

She looked at the woman's clothing. She wore an expensive grey suit with a herringbone pattern, rimless glasses on a silver chain and a black shirt underneath the suit. Her cuffs and collar were meticulously buttoned, pressed and folded. Her collar was stiffer than Sam would have thought possible. But the outfit looked well loved, slightly faded, a little tattered on the edges and, Sam noticed with a start, the button was missing on the pocket of the suit.

Sam decided she liked the woman. She looked firm and strict, but willing to listen and negotiate. She looked as though she might emerge as a budding party animal at parties, but would make a fantastic boss.

"Yes, ma'am," Sam replied instantly, proffering a hand. The woman shook it cordially, then adjusted her glasses smoothly. She held a file in her hand, but did not as much as glance at it before speaking again.

"You are the Samantha Manson that carried out the Lion Objective?"

"Yes." Dangerous mission that had been. She could not remember a time a rescue mission had required so much planning, guts, timing and, basically, insanity.

But she and Wolf had made it. Teams rule.

"Yes. Very impressive indeed."

"Thank you."

"Yes…" her voice petered off. Sam almost began to gnaw her lip in curiosity.

"If I might ask," the woman looked at her. "Why did you want to see me?"

The woman removed her glasses. "My name is Sarah Herman. I work for the FBI."

So I am being arrested, Sam thought with a smile.

Sarah rose from her chair. She walked over to stand beside and over Sam, placing a hand on her chair.

"How would you like to be a detective?"

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FunkyFish1991 xXx