Rain fell in buckets as a young man jogged to the dingy building where he worked. He opened the door and walked in the run-down radio station. He was greeted by the smell of coffee and bagels. He took his seat and slipped on a pair of headphones.

"Good morning Seattle, this is Freddie Benson with your daily morning show. We've got scattered thunder storms and rain throughout the day so don't forget your umbrella. Now, let's relax with our classic morning tunes. This is Cuttlefish with 'Baby I Was Wrong.'"

He flipped the off button to the microphone and leaned back in his chair. Even though the pay was what he needed and a little more, Freddie felt unhappy. But it wasn't the mysterious unhappy that someone doesn't understand. He KNEW why he was unhappy. It was the day she disappeared without a trace. The day his life crumbled beneath him. Freddie sighed as the song closed on a long note. He flipped the microphone on and continued his show.

"Okay, that's it for this morning. I'll see you tomorrow morning bright and early. And remember, if there is a Sam Puckett listening… I miss you. We all do…" He turned off the mic and sighed. That was how he ended every morning show. He hoped that maybe SOMEONE could tell him where he could find Sam Puckett. He put on his hat and walked back out into the freezing rain. The October wind nipped at his face as he started his car. He drove back to his apartment and unlocked the door.

"C'mere Fat Cakes!" Freddie called, slapping his knees. A small black lab puppy ran out from kitchen and jumped on Freddie's legs. "Good girl." he laughed patting her little head. He bought Fat Cakes a couple of months ago from the man one apartment down. Poor little Fat Cakes was a runt and nobody wanted her. Fat Cakes reminded Freddie so much of Sam. She was spunky, cute, and very loving. She barked and flashed her sparkling blue eyes, begging for a treat.

Freddie shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the couch. He strode into the kitchen and pulled down a box of Vanilla Oreos. He tossed one in the air and Fat Cakes caught it in her mouth. Fat Cakes was a weird dog. She loved to eat sweets and junk food yet she remained very skinny. Just like Sam.

In a way, Fat Cakes filled the void in Freddie's life. It was like having a mini Sam with him all the time. Fat Cakes scarfed down the Oreo and pleaded for more. Freddie chuckled and put a few more on the ground. He walked out of the kitchen with Fat Cakes bounding happily behind him, her face covered in crumbs. He sat down on his couch and stared out into the pouring rain.

It had been six years since he saw her…

Six Years…

Somewhere in Tacoma

A young woman, about the age of 22, dashed through the rain as she fumbled with the keys to her car.

"Damn it…" she muttered under her breath as the keys slipped and fell into a puddle. She stooped down and snatched them up. With the door finally unlocked, she hopped in her car and closed the door. Rain pattered against the windshield as she drove back to her apartment. Parking the car, she once again dashed inside the building. She took the elevator upstairs and walked down the hallway to her small apartment. As she walked in, something came crashing into her legs.

"MOMMY!" A little six year old girl cried.

"Hey Bree." She said lovingly to her daughter. A man walked out of the kitchen and she handed him twenty dollars.

"Thanks Tom."

"No problem Sam." He walked out the door, waving to little Bree. Sam plopped down on the couch as Bree scrambled up into her lap.

"Did you have fun with Tom today?" Sam said, playing absentmindedly with Bree's curly blonde hair.

"YEAH! We played bored games and went to the puppy shop!" Bree said. Sam knew how much Bree wanted a puppy but she couldn't quite afford one right now. Maybe after she got that raise.

"What kind of puppies did they have?" Sam asked. Bree rambled on about all the cute puppies and the ugly puppies but Sam wasn't really listening. Bree hopped down from her mother's lap and wondered into the kitchen.

"Can we have dinner now?" The tiny girl asked. Sam scooped up Bree by her tiny waist and zoomed around the kitchen making airplane noises.

"Commander Bree, what is the nature of your emergency?" Sam said.

"Help! The crew is being attacked by giant slices of bacon!" Bree squealed. Sam zoomed around the apartment making gun noises. Soon, the giant pieces of bacon were destroyed and everyone was safe.

"Okay kiddo, what're you hungry for?" Sam laughed.

"Bacon! No, wait. Ham! Wait… Fried chicken!" Bree said excitedly. Sam ruffled her hair and started up the stove. They sat in the living room eating chicken and flipping through channels on the TV, finally landing on some kid's movie. As it grew late, Bree was soon asleep in her mother's lap. Sam carried her upstairs and tucked her in.

"Good night Bree." Sam whispered. Bree's hazel eyes opened a little and closed again as she drifted off to sleep. Sam felt no hate for those eyes even though they were the eyes of someone she hated. Bree's father.

"Hello Gorgeous." A man lusted as he stood on a street corner.

"Leave me alone." A sixteen year old Sam growled.

"Hey baby don't be like that."

"Go away creep!"

"Come here bitch!" the man lunged at Sam and grabbed her, dragging her behind Bushwell Plaza. His hazel eyes flashed with greed as Sam struggled against his grip.

"Please!" Sam begged, "Let me go! You can't do this to me!" But her words were drowned out as the man slapped his hand over her face.

"Say you love me!"

"No!"

"Say it!"

"I-I love you…" Sam whimpered as the man closed the space between them.

Sam watched as Bree slept peacefully under her Spider-Man sheets. She bent down and kissed Bree's forehead before leaving the room and flipping off the light. Rain still splattered miserably down the windows as Sam lay on the couch flipping through channels even though she knew nothing was on. Sam turned off the TV and walked to her room. She face-planted into the pillows and huffed. Sleep was obviously out of the question so she went into Bree's room. She was snuggled up under her sheets hugging a stuffed tiger under her chin. Sam felt like she was watching herself at that age sleeping. Bree was a miniature Sam in so many ways. In everything but the eyes.

Sam wished that Bree had inherited her crystal blue eyes. But the man's eyes were dominant to hers so Bree's eyes were hazel. Sam hated the man's eyes but she did not hate Bree's eyes. No, Bree's eyes were beautiful in every way, in every angle. Sam closed the door and went to bed.