The next morning, Sam really was sick. She woke up far before she normally would've just to vomit the contents of her stomach up. When she finished, though, she still felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. For one wild moment, she thought maybe last night had just been a nightmare; maybe Marshall was still safely locked up, away from her and the twins.

But unfortunately, that delusion didn't last long.

She hadn't said anything about the phone call from city hall to Freddie or the girls; if she had her way, she'd never have to mention it at all. Things were finally beginning to fall into place for all of them. Her and Freddie were getting married, Kira and Leah were getting along great with him…she didn't want to give Marshall the satisfaction of screwing it up. She checked the time. It was half past six. She knew city hall opened up at seven. If she left now, she could make it down there right when they opened to take out restraining orders for the twins.

She quietly stepped back into the bedroom, not wanting to wake Freddie. She pulled on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt and was just about to leave when she heard Freddie stir from the bed.

"Sam?" he said groggily, sitting up. "What time is it? Why are you up?"

"Um, I just have to run out really quick," Sam said, sliding on her shoes.

"Where are you going?" Freddie asked, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

"I left my wallet in my desk drawer at work," Sam lied. "I'm just gonna go grab it. Hey, why don't I pick up some bagels while I'm out? You like those cinnamon ones from that place by the pet store, right?"

"Um, right," Freddie said, still not completely awake.

"Okay, so just go back to sleep and when you wake up, you'll have some waiting for you," Sam smiled, giving him a quick kiss.

"Okay," Freddie yawned, falling back on his pillow.

Sam sighed a breath of relief before grabbing her keys and rushing out of the apartment.

Thankfully, when Sam pulled into the parking lot of city hall a few moments later, it didn't look too crowded yet.

"Can I help you?" a young receptionist asked promptly when Sam stepped inside.

"Yeah, um, I need to talk to someone about how to get a restraining order…not for me. But I'm just-"

"Third floor, office on the right," the woman replied boredly. "Ask for Byron."

"Cool…Byron, got it," Sam said. She stepped into the nearby elevator, hoping she could get everything taken care of quickly so she could forget this whole thing.

She found the office right when she stepped out of the elevator. The door was open so she didn't bother to knock.

"Hi," Sam said, poking her head into he office. "Um, are you Byron?"

"Yes, how can I help you?" the man sitting at the desk in the room said, looking up.

"I-I need to file two restraining orders," Sam said, sitting down in the chair across from him. "I do that here, right?"

"Well it's not so simple," Byron explained, leaning back in his chair. "You can't just file a restraining order against anybody. You need to have proof that whomever you're filing it against poses a real threat to your life. Do you have that?"

"I'm not filing the restraining order for myself," Sam said, somewhat defensively. "It's for my daughters."

"Well who are you filing the order against?" Byron asked.

"It's their father," Sam told him. "He-He's getting out of jail soon and I don't want him anywhere near them."

"Alright, well, Ms.…"

"Puckett," Sam said. "My name's Sam Puckett."

"Right, well Ms. Puckett, I'm afraid I can't just write you a couple of restraining orders just so your daughters' father can't see them," Byron said. "He needs to pose a real threat to them."

"He doesn't even have custody anymore," Sam said. "He had to give that up when he got arrested ten years ago."

"Well then why are you concerned about him seeing them?"

"Because," Sam sighed. "He-He's dangerous. He may try to do something to the girls just to get back at me for landing him in jail in the first place."

Byron sat up. "Okay, that could be grounds to file a restraining order. Has he been violent in the past?"

"Not to them directly," Sam said. "But, um, that's sort of the reason he's in jail…He-He got really drunk one night and, um, well he stabbed me."

Byron raised an eyebrow. "So shouldn't you be filing for a restraining order for yourself as well?"

"I'm a cop," Sam said quickly. "I can take care of myself. But like I said…I don't want him anywhere near my daughters when he's released. So could you just give me the restraining order for them?"

"Filing a restraining order is a process, Ms. Puckett," Byron said. "You can fill out the appropriate paper work now, but it will have to be reviewed by a judge. That could take another week or so."

"Oh, right," Sam nodded, gripping her bag tightly. She did know that. She had helped plenty of victims at work go through this exact same process.

"I'll try to get a rush on them," Byron assured her. "And I'll give you a call once I hear back."

"Okay, thank you," Sam said, taking the forms Byron handed her.

As she filled out all of the information, Sam wondered to herself just how much good a restraining order would do. It was just a sheet of paper, after all. Would Marshall really stoop to trying to hurt Kira or Leah? He hadn't tried to contact them during his prison stay. Maybe he wouldn't even give them a second thought when he was released. Like she had said, he never went after the girls when him and her were together…she was usually the subject of his rage. And though she had to admit that she did feel uneasy about that, she'd much rather have it that way.

Once she filled out the forms she returned to her car and drove home, still deep in thought.

"Hey, I thought you were getting bagels," Freddie said as Sam walked back into the apartment.

"Huh?" Sam frowned. 'Oh, they were out."

"They ran out of bagels at the bagel shop?" Freddie said, giving her a strange look.

"They were busy!" Sam said. "Anyway, the girls up?"

"No, it is only eight thirty, though," Freddie said. "We usually don't see them until around noon on weekends."

"Oh…right," Sam nodded.

"Hey, you okay?" Freddie asked as he poured two glasses of orange juice.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Freddie said. "Because you seem a bit-"

"Hey, I was thinking," Sam said, cutting him off. "About this Seattle trip…maybe it would be fun for us to stay there a little longer than a weekend."

"Really?" Freddie said. "You want to stay longer?"

"Yeah, like, maybe all of next week," Sam suggested. "The girls would be fine missing just one week of school; I'll have their teachers email me their missed work. I have a few vacation days at work and you barely go into your office anyway. Besides, I know how excited you are to go back."

"Well yeah," Freddie grinned. "I think that's a great idea. And you know, I was talking with my mom last night after you went to bed and she said we can all stay at her place. Isn't that great?"

"Oh…no," Sam said. "Really? Your mom's place? She hates me."

"No, she, er, disliked you back in high school, but you've matured since then," Freddie said. "Besides, we're going to be married soon, I don't want to have my wife and mom against each other. This could bring you two a little closer."

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. At least Spencer still lives across the hall from her. I can hide out there if I need to."

"That's the spirit," Freddie smiled, pulling her into an embrace. "I can't wait for this trip, Sam. It's going to be amazing."

Sam rested her chin on his shoulder, returning his hug.

At least now the girls won't be in the state when Marshall's released, she thought to herself. At least I can make sure of that.