o O o

A/N : You'll NEVER GUESS what book is quoted in this chapter…OK, you will. If it were put to music, it would be the theme song for this fic. Oh! The Places You'll Go! is back again. The "big stick" line is a reference to the quote attributed to Teddy Roosevelt. I am by no means an expert at Japanese, so if I got that wrong the fault is entirely mine. Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter; alas, while every effort will be made, I cannot promise that the next one will appear any sooner.

o O o

With an increasing sense of foreboding, Sam scrutinized the man to whom Carly now clung. While technically in civilian dress, the shoes were perfectly shined. The khakis were perfectly pressed. No wrinkle dared offend the Egyptian cotton of the button-down shirt. His hair, lacking even a single strand of silver, was precisely cut high and tight and his face looked so smooth that Sam expected to see the razor still in his hand. The family resemblance was striking, and there was little doubt in her mind as to the identity of their unexpected guest. Spencer had a couple of inches on him in height, but the authority the Colonel carried with him took up enough space for both of them. Without waiting for an introduction, Sam carefully turned the burner down and slipped away.

Closing the bedroom door quietly behind her, she found Spencer shifting furniture in order to maneuver the Bottle Bot into a far corner. "Spence," she called softly.

"I heard," he tossed over his shoulder. "Granddad's here. I'll be out in a minute."

"Yes, Granddad's here. But we have a small problem."

Spencer turned around. "What caught on fire?" he asked with resignation.

"Nothing, at least nothing yet. But we're about to be ambushed. Granddad didn't come alone."

"Who…" he started warily, but had no need to finish. He read the answer on her face.

She watched his jaw tighten as he nodded understanding. He could not repress the hiss of frustration that escaped through clenched teeth. "The best laid plans…he wasn't due home for three weeks."

Spencer didn't think of himself as a violent person, but in that moment he had an almost uncontrollable urge to throw something, or punch his fist through the wall. He wasn't READY. It was unfair – the balls were all up in the air and he was still choreographing the precise set of steps needed to catch the lot of them. He was pretty sure he could do it, but he needed more time. While he wasn't looking, time had run out.

"I guess someone forgot to tell him that," Sam commented. "So what's plan B?"

"There IS no plan B Sam! I'm still constructing plan A!" The edge in his voice wasn't directed at her and he felt instantly guilty for raising it. "I'm sorry Mädchen. This is just…messed up. Royally."

There went the hand through the hair as his stress leaked out – so, like the little Dutch boy who held back the sea, Sam thought she must find a way to plug it. What were the options? For sure she couldn't let him leave the room in his current state of mind. Hackles would instantly be raised on both sides and it would just make it that much harder for them to win "the enemy" over.

THINK Puckett. This isn't like school where you just have to one up the other guy. If Spencer got into an ante-upping contest with his father, there would be no winning – even if he won. This was going to be a different kind of fight, but she had learned things were not always as they seemed. Somehow she needed to reinstate at least the illusion of control or Spencer would be tempted to knock the chip off his father's shoulder right off the bat. Freddie was right; they needed to wait and see.

"Yes," she agreed, "it is. But I can't change the fact that he's here now. He made the first move and showed up unannounced - we don't know what his intentions are. Don't let him rattle you; right now we just have to get through today. This is still your household, and we'll go on with the activities that you planned. If our guests choose to do something else, let them. Now is not the time to melt down OR explode," she added firmly. "Now is the time to be sure when we step, Step with care and great tact and remember that Life's a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left. That will make ME feel better. Now, what will make you feel better?"

"Oh, I don't know. A time machine? A winning lottery ticket? How about the script? The right script would be great."

"Spencer, you told me today is a play it by ear day anyway. Let's just do what we were going to do."

"Yeah, but that was when I thought I only had to deal with Granddad. " It didn't matter that he'd been anticipating this for some time; there was just something about the Colonel that made him feel like a six year old sent to time out.

"Spence, he only just GOT here. He hasn't seen any of you for how long? Do you really think he's going to jump down your throat right now – today?"

"Maybe not," he admitted, "but I wouldn't put it past him." He fished his phone from his pocket and barked "Call Socko."

"Cool! I didn't know you could do that."

"Freddie." Spencer explained while he waited for Socko to answer.

"Dude! I thought you got lost looking for Bigfoot again! Where've you been man?"

Spencer glanced at Sam and the ghost of a smile returned to his lips. "Been tied up my friend. Listen, I have next to no time here, but this is a heads up that I may need a favor in the very near future."

He heard the crack of Socko's shoulder roll. "Ask and ye shall receive buddy."

"Knew I could count on you; details later; the stove's untended at the moment."

"Well what are you doing hanging on the phone? The whole damn building is likely to burn down any second!"

"No worries; I have the fire department on speed dial. I'll talk at you later."

"Ja mata ne!"

Both phones clicked off and Spencer reached for Sam's hand.

"Ok Mädchen; are you up for it? We'll speak softly…but I'm still carrying the big stick."

She nodded approvingly. Much better. "Let's do this." Squeezing his hand in return, she took a breath and opened the door.