"Let me know what they say."

"Of course."

Sam leaned over to give her dad another kiss. "Do what Celia tells you to, got me?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go to work and catch me a killer."

Sam squeezed Celia's arm on the way by. Wouldn't it be something if, after all this time, her dad regained some feeling in his paralyzed limbs? The idea of it was too tantalizing to entertain. Sam forced herself to put it aside until they knew more so she could focus on all the other more pressing matters at hand.

Anxious to hear how Scotty had fared at school, Sam took a call from Shelby. "How'd it go?"

"Perfectly fine. He ran into Jonah going in and was smiling by the time he got to the door."

"Oh, good. That's a relief. Thanks for taking him."

"No problem. I'll be there when he gets out."

"Thanks a million."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It's going to be a paperwork headache more than anything. Like I didn't already have enough to do today."

"Hang in there. Call if you need anything."

"Hey, Tinker Bell?"

"Yes?"

"It's really great having you around, except for the folding issue, that is."

Shelby's delicate laughter brought a smile to Sam's face. "Gee, thanks, boss. I'm enjoying the job very much. Thank you for trusting me with your home and your darling son."

"I'm glad it's working out. I'm at HQ." Sam's gaze landed on Avery Hill, dapper as always as he got out of his car and waited for her to park. "I'll talk at you later."

"Have a good day."

"You too." Sam got out of the car and approached Hill. "You're back." As soon as the words were out of her mouth Sam felt like an idiot for stating the obvious.

"So I am."

"And?"

"Marco's not our guy. He's been in the hospital for the last week with an emergency appendectomy gone bad."

"Why didn't Carmen tell us that?"

"She probably didn't know. His name was mud in her house, and Marco said he asked his parents not to further upset her by telling her he's been ill."

"I'm sorry you wasted your time going there."

"It wasn't a total waste." He tugged a sheaf of papers out of his bag. "Willie's financials."

"Excellent! We've been having the worst time with the Dominican bank. Appreciate the assist with this and the team and the trip."

"Mind if I stick around to see it through? I'm invested."

A few weeks ago, the question would've rankled and annoyed. Now she understood that at some point he'd become a trusted-and often useful-colleague. "Sure. Since you were able to procure the financials, you can see that through. That'd help."

"Sure, happy to."

They walked toward the main door together. "Are you going to call Shelby?" Sam asked.

He eyed her warily. "Where'd that come from?"

"Just wondering-and so is she."

"Funny, I wouldn't take you for a girlfriendy kind of gal."

"I have girlfriends," Sam said, indignant that he thought he knew her so well.

He raised an eyebrow rife with skepticism. "Any who don't work here?"

"My sisters, and I suppose Shelby counts, not that it's any of your business."

He stopped short, and Sam had no choice but to stop too or run into him.

"You're right. It isn't my business. But here's the situation, Sam... You know I think a lot of you."

Since he'd all but confessed to being in love with her, Sam just nodded, afraid to do or say anything else and desperately afraid of where this might be leading.

"I'd like it if we could be friends. And if not friends, at least cordial colleagues who occasionally work well together."

He was offering her a way out of the uncomfortable tension that had surrounded them since she'd tuned into his crush on her, and Sam appreciated the overture. If he was going to be sticking around the District, their paths were bound to cross again, and there was no reason for their relationship to be antagonistic when their goals were often the same.

"That would be good. There's one thing you should know, though."

"What's that?"

How to say this diplomatically? "You have to be careful around Nick. He's... He's possessive of what's his, and he's in a position to make your life difficult if he chooses to."

Hill's lips got very tight with displeasure. "Has he made threats?"

"Of course not. But don't give him a reason to butt into your life. He's a perfectly rational guy. Most of the time."

"I stand warned." He started to stalk off, and Sam ran after him.

"Hill, wait." She grabbed his arm to halt his progress. "Hold on a second. I didn't say that to piss you off. I swear."

He glanced down at his arm and then at her. "Why did you say it?"

Sam let her hand drop away from him. "You've worked hard for your career. I respect that, and I don't want to have anything to do with messing it up." She was making a bloody mess out of this conversation. Nothing was coming out the way she intended. "That's all."

"Thanks for the heads up. I get it. If I were in his shoes, I'd be possessive of what was mine too."

His intense expression made her heart beat faster as a flash of fear went through her. Nick would kill him if he ever saw him looking at her that way. "I... Um..."

"Forget I said that." He extended a hand. "Friends?"

Sam eyed his outstretched hand warily before she reached out to shake it. "Friends."

"Let's get to work."

She released his hand and headed toward the main door, suddenly aware that the press corps camped outside HQ had witnessed the exchange with Hill. Fabulous.

"Lieutenant, any suspects in the Vasquez murder?" one of them asked.

"Nothing yet. Hope to have something for you soon."

"What's with the scarf?" Hill asked as they crossed the lobby.

"Had a little trouble with Lieutenant Stahl this morning," she said.

"What does that mean?"

Sam told him about what'd happened outside her front door.

"The guy's got brass balls going to your house, especially when you've got Secret Service all over the place."

"He's also got bruised balls. I managed to get off a good kick, but it's embarrassing to admit how quickly he overpowered me."

"He took you by surprise."

"Still..."

"Your pride is wounded."

"A little bit, but I feel better knowing his junk is wounded too."

Hill snorted with laughter. "You would."

Farnsworth waylaid them. "Lieutenant Holland. My office. Now."

Sam rolled her eyes at Hill. "Meet you in the pit."

"Good luck," Hill said.

Sam followed Farnsworth to his office.

He slammed the door and turned to her, furious. "Are you all right?"

Sam couldn't recall a time when she'd seen him so angry, and that was saying something since she often made him angry. "Yes."

"Let me see."

"That's not necessary. I'm fine."

"I said, let me see."

Aggravated by the bossy men in her life, Sam unwound the scarf and tipped her head so he could see what were probably angry bruises on her neck.

"God, Sam," he said, sagging. "He could've killed you."

"Well, he didn't and he's got bruised junk as a result of his trouble."

"That's the least of what he deserves. I just got off the phone with Forrester. He's going to throw the book at Stahl. There's nothing any of us hate more than dirty cops."

"So no chance of bail?"

"Forrester will fight it. He's handling the case personally."

"That's good. I can't help but relish the idea of Stahl in prison."

"I can't help but relish the last of him around here. He's been a pain in my ass for years."

"Mine too. I better get to it."

When someone knocked on the door, Farnsworth said, "Enter."

A sergeant with a camera came in. "I understand we need to document the lieutenant's injuries?" he asked.

"That we do," Farnsworth said. "Lieutenant..."

Resigned, Sam once again revealed the bruises and forced herself to remain still while the sergeant snapped photos of her from a multitude of angles. Just as Sam was about to snap at him to hurry up already, he said he had what he needed.

"Thanks, Sarge." After the sergeant left the room, Farnsworth said, "On behalf of the department, I apologize for what transpired at your residence this morning, Lieutenant."

"It was worth it if it gave us more ammo to use against him."

"I have to make a statement later today on Stahl's arrest and what happened this morning. I'd like you there."

"Sure. Just let me know when."

Sam left the chief's office and headed for the pit, anxious to dig into the latest on the Vasquez case.

"We think we've got a murder weapon," Cruz said when she walked in. "CSU uncovered a bloody knife in a garbage can six blocks from where Vasquez was found."

"Anywhere near the blood puddle?"