A/N: Rated for language

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"The Recruit"

by: the archduke

He got to sleep only after Spencer had spent an hour fussing over him. No matter how many times he tried to reassure his son that he was fine, that his pride was the only thing that suffered any permanent damage, Spencer wouldn't listen.

"Dad, I really think you should see a doctor. The emergency room is only seven minutes away at this time of night. You were bleeding!"

He didn't ask why his son knew exactly how long it took to get to the emergency room at four in the morning. Instead he adjusted the ice pack on his shoulder and gave Spencer a fatherly glare.

"I'm not bleeding anymore. And there is no way I'm going to the emergency room because of a sixteen year old girl. What am I supposed to say when they ask me what happened? That my daughter's best friend sucker punched me and practically knocked me unconscious? I'm in the Navy, for Christ's sake!"

Spencer gestured with his hands in a pleading manner. "But it was Sam! They know her rep down there. They'll be glad you didn't get your nose broken. She must have used her right hand. Her left is the one she uses for punchin'." Spencer swung his left hand through the air in an awkward cross.

He gave Spencer an incredulous look. "She has a rep at the emergency room? She has a punchin' hand? Exactly what kind of friend does Carly have?"

Spencer's eyebrows jumped practically into his hairline. His son realized that he might have said too much. "Let's not worry about that now. You're tired, it's been a long day, I've wiped all the blood off the floor. Let's try to get some sleep, yea?"

Spencer looked so hopeful that he didn't have the heart to press him for more information on Sam. At least not right then. "Fine. I think that aspirin has finally kicked in." He took the ice pack off his shoulder and gave it an experimental rotation. Still pain, but not as bad as it had been.

"Great! Come on, I'll help you to bed." Wonderful, not even fifty yet and his son was treating him like an invalid. He let out a sigh but let Spencer guide him to the futon that was set up in his bedroom. He lay down, assured Spencer once more that he was alright, and closed his eyes. He was finally able to sleep.

The next morning he had to tell Carly what had happened. He tried to play it off, but he didn't think it worked.

"Oh my god, Dad, I am so sorry! Are you hurt? She didn't break your nose, did she? It doesn't look broken, like Mike Fletcher's did after she punched him. He had to get surgery to fix it, but yours looks fine. If I've told her once, I've told her a hundred times: it's rude to punch someone when they aren't looking!"

Carly said all of this very fast and with various facial expressions. His children sure were animated.

"Like I said Carly, I'm fine." He gave her a little pat on her shoulder to reassure her. "But I am a little worried about you. And who you associate with."

Carly's eyes widened. "Oh." She looked down and fiddled with her fingers. "Sam's not usually so . . . well, okay, she is usually this violent. But from what you told me I'm pretty sure she thought you were a burglar, so when she punched you and flipped you she thought she was protecting us. You can't blame her for that, can you?" She looked up at him with doe eyes that implored him to agree with her.

"I suppose not." He was such a softy when it came to Carly. "But I'd still like to know-"

A knock at the front door interrupted him. Carly sprang to her feet, obviously glad for the interruption. "I'll get it!"

She rushed over to the door, looked through the peep hole and then opened it to reveal Freddie.

"Hey Carly. Sam sent me over to get her cell phone. She said she left it in your room yesterday morning." Freddie walked passed the threshold then stopped. "Oh, hello Mr. Shay. How are you feeling?"

He gave Freddie a once over to make sure the boy wasn't insinuating something, but he looked completely sincere. "I'm fine Freddie. It's been a few years since I've seen you. How've you been?"

"Fine. Thanks." There was an awkward silence where they could hear Spencer's off-key singing from the shower. Carly clapped her hands together. "Well, I'll just go and get her phone. Be right back." She turned and fled up the stairs.

Freddie remained standing, swinging his arms back and forth and looking around the room as if he had never been there before. He was obviously nervous. After a few seconds, Freddie suddenly blurted out, "Sam's really sorry about last night, sir. She actually feels guilty, which almost never happens."

He saw his chance to finally get some information. "That's good to know. Carly believes that Sam thought I was a burglar last night. I would have identified myself, but I wasn't really expecting any visitors at three in the morning."

Freddie stopped swinging his arms. "She got hungry and decided to come over. Usually she'd grab something from the fridge and sleep on the couch. She wasn't expecting you either."

She just stops by the apartment for a middle-of-the-night snack? In Seattle? "I didn't know that Spencer and Carly had given her a key."

"She doesn't need one."

That was certainly cryptic. "Excuse me?"

Freddie stuck his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxing. "She can pick any lock. I've even seen her crack a safe." The boy looked proud at this.

Holy shit. The deeper he dug, the worse it got.

Carly came barreling down the stairs then, clutching a cell phone in her hand. "Sorry it took so long. I couldn't find it." She glanced down at the phone and furrowed her brow. "I guess she never got my text that you came for a surprise visit."

She then glanced up at Freddie. "Why didn't Sam come pick this up herself?"

Freddie once again started to swing his arms. "Um, she didn't want to bother you guys." His eyes darted to Carly's father. "You know how she feels about people who wear uniforms."

"But my dad isn't a police officer. Or a fireman. Or a mailman, train conductor or riverboat captain."

Freddie just shrugged. "She's been talking to that hobo on Corbin again. The one that thinks the government is out to get him. No offense, sir."

"None taken." She has conversations with hobos?

Carly let out an exasperated sigh and put her hands on her hips. "I can't believe Sam actually listens to hobos. I'm thinking of avoiding Corbin all together, because last week she put 'killer robots' as an answer on her history quiz, and that could only have come from a hobo."

Freddie smirked, then looked behind him at the closed door. "I should go give this to her. You know, before she kills my mom."

Carly seemed surprised at this. "She's at your place?"

Freddie nodded. "Showed up last night in my bedroom, smothered me with a pillow to wake me up, and kicked me out of my bed. I had to sleep on the floor. She told me everything this morning." Freddie seemed only mildly disgruntled about this. Like it wasn't the first time it had happened.

He had to confirm something. "Didn't your mother hear her come in last night?"

Freddie answered with a laugh. "Sam's an expert at sneaking around. If she wasn't she'd probably be in jail by now. They just can't make those charges stick."

"Has Sam been arrested?" He didn't really care about the answer, because at that moment something clicked in his brain. Not in the section reserved for all things Carly and Spencer, but in the part where he kept his work. The work part almost never interfered with the father part, but in this instance he couldn't help but let work intrude. Possibilities were forming.

Carly's eyes got wide and she changed the subject. He noticed his children did that a lot when they were talking about Sam. "Uh, I think Freddie has to go back home. His mom is probably worrying about him." She must have given Freddie a look, because he saw the boy open his mouth as if to say something, then shut it and let Carly herd him out the door.

"Well," Carly said as she turned back to him after slamming the door in Freddie's face. "I'm going to go, uh, do something. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?" She didn't wait for him to answer as she practically ran up the stairs.

She'd probably call Sam and tell her not to come over because he thought she was a delinquent. Which all signs pointed to her being, but delinquents weren't always a bad thing.

He went into Spencer's bedroom, making sure his son was still in the shower. He grabbed his cell phone out of his rucksack, and dialed a number he had memorized a long time ago.

"Hey," he greeted the other end when his call was picked up. "I want you to do a check. It's someone who I think has potential."

A/N 2: Not sure if riverboat captains wear uniforms, but I couldn't resist making Sam have some sort of problem with them.