Sam stood in the kitchen drinking a glass of milk. Completely innocuous. There is nothing at all provocative about a teenaged girl drinking milk, at least, if that's all you see. Spencer wished that was all he saw. Today she was the figurehead for a sailing ship, and although the image was only in his head, he still shut his eyes to try to block it out.

She rinsed out the glass and looked at Spencer with concern. "Are you ok Spence?"

He didn't even know how to begin to answer. "I…think I have smoothie withdrawal. I'm sure I'll feel better after I get a Strawberry Splat." He turned and headed for the door.

Sam instantly bristled. "No," she said sharply. He looked at her in surprise. "I mean, I think you should lie down. You're not looking well."

Spencer was not sure how the universe turned upside down. Since when did Sam exhibit concern for other people's welfare? It worried him that he was so obviously off; he desperately needed a distraction. "Yeah, maybe after I get that smoothie." He fled the apartment; Sam stared after him.

Should she follow him over? The thought of leaving him alone with that conniving April no longer made her angry; it made her ill. Regardless of how it might appear, she had to go. She went.

April smiled at Spencer as he came through the door. "Hey there sweetie! You're late today. I thought you decided not to come. What are you having?"

He shrugged, looking a little lost.

"I've got just the thing. Kaleidoscope Candy. Just hold on … T Bo!" She yelled into the back. "I'm taking a break!" She slipped around the counter and boldly took his hand, leading him to a corner table. Handing him the smoothie, she sank into the chair across from him.

"So talk to me Spencer; you're looking a little out of sorts today. Is there anything I can do?" She smiled that sweet smile and reached across to pat his hand.

He took a breath and tried to calm down. "Yes, actually. I… was thinking that you would be a good model for some of the sketches I have in mind. Would you be interested in coming by this weekend?"

"Spencer, you know I'd be delighted. How about Sunday afternoon?"

He nodded. "Perfect."

"I'm looking forward to it! Here's my number; you can text me the details." This time when she rose from the table, she kissed him on the lips.

Sam stood in the doorway with both hands clenched tight. The situation was escalating; something had to be done. Maybe she could get Freddie to do his techie geek thing and search out some information on April's husband, and then she could call him and…. No. She discarded that plan almost immediately. She wanted April brought down, but not if it would take Spencer down too. Plus, there was someone else's welfare that was of paramount concern. Maybe she should tell Carly, and let her put the pressure on. But she really didn't want everyone to know how close Spencer was to making this mistake; somehow she was going to have to bring him to heel – all by herself. That left only one thing.

There were lots of things that Sam was good at. Insults – she was the queen of insults. Pranks – pretty good at those. Eating – definitely could put some food away. But speaking from the heart – not so good. However, desperate times call for desperate measures. She was going to have to speak up or forever hold her peace. And holding her peace was another thing that Samantha Puckett was never good at.

"Spencer," she called to him in a tone that sent a chill down his spine. "Carly needs you at home right away."

He broke away from April with a guilty start, turning to look at Sam. Oh no - she wasn't Sam. Today she was Medusa; he was quite certain her baleful stare would turn him to stone right where he sat.

"What's wrong?" he asked with apprehension.

"Just come home."

He looked apologetically at April and rose to leave. "I'm sorry; I have to go take care of …whatever this problem is. I'll call you about Sunday, ok?"

"Sure thing Spencer; I'll see you soon." Because she knew Sam was watching, she very deliberately stood on tip toe to give him another kiss before heading back behind the counter. Spencer started to wave but his arm wilted back to his side – Sam looked like she was going to erupt at any moment. He had to get her out of there before something very bad happened.

"Ok, I'm coming." She turned and he followed her out.

"What's this about Sam? If Carly needed something she would just call. "

He was bewildered when she changed the topic. "So Spencer, tell me what your plans are for Sunday."

"What does that have to do with-"

"Just TELL me!" She demanded in that ominous Puckett voice.

"April offered to model for some sketches I've been … thinking about. "

"And you think this is a good idea because…"

They reached Bushwell Plaza and he paused outside the door.

"I'm not sure that it is a good idea Sam; it's just the only one I had."

She stared at him before passing through the door. What was that supposed to mean?