The following weekend, Sam hauled the last box out of her old bedroom and added it to the stack in the now sparse living room. The U-Haul was waiting downstairs, and Harold had already given her the address to her new home. She'd asked him about rent, but he said not to worry about it. That in itself had her a little worried.

It was midday, and she was already tired. There was nothing for it but to start dragging the boxes downstairs. She'd worry later about the few pieces of furniture she owned. Perhaps she could enlist the help some of the neighbors in the building. Sure, she barely knew them, but people should help others, right?

Sam grabbed a box and turned to the door as it opened. She smiled broadly at John when he pushed the door all the way open, and who was also followed by Lionel, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't think you were coming. Harold said you had a job," Sam said, confused, setting the box down again.

"We just wrapped it up," John said, taking off his suit jacket. He unbuttoned the sleeves to his shirt and rolled them up to his elbows. "Grab a box, Lionel."

"How did he get you here?" Sam asked.

"He threatened to shoot me in the crotch," Lionel hunched over one of the boxes.

"John!" Sam looked at him, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of her expression.

"A significant spot," John winked at her and picked up a couple of boxes.

"Oh, you are the best! Lunch is definitely on me," Sam said.

"Beef steak," Lionel said.

"Lunch, Lionel, not a heart attack."

"Depends on the beef steak," Sam said, trying to control her laughter. "That sounds good anyway. What do you want to drink?"

"Beer," Lionel answered immediately as he strained under the weight of the box he'd hefted up.

John exchanged a withering look with Sam. She snorted. "That's fine." She grabbed onto Lionel's arm and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for helping. And I owe you a kiss anyway, remember?"

"See? She's nice," Lionel addressed John and jerked his head at Sam. "Why can't you be nice?"

"Are you asking for a kiss, Lionel? You just had to say so," John said as he walked out of the room.

Sam laughed and ran into her bedroom to begin dragging out the parts of her bed for them to take down.

The men came back up after a minute and John grabbed first onto the mattress to Sam's bed.

"Can you guys handle that down the stairs?" Sam asked, following them into the hallway as they hauled it.

"We're fine," John said with a grunt.

Sam held the door to the stairs open for them and closed it behind Lionel. She went back into her apartment to find her purse. She searched all around the living room, then the kitchen. When she was in her bedroom, she heard voices close by.

"Only couple of minutes, okay?" One of them said. "Take what you can find. Oh, how thoughtful. Looks like everything's all boxed up for us."

Sam recognized the voice and ran out into the living room. Two men were standing there, starting to open the boxes she'd just packed.

The one who spoke turned as she entered the room, and Sam had several reactions at once. She wanted to grab her gun, she also wanted to run away, or call for John, or the police even. But she didn't do anything. She stood there, staring.

"Kai?"

"Sam," Kai said, his eyes widening in shock. "I thought – they said you were dead."

"Who said?" Sam said, her voice growing in hostility. "What are you doing here?"

Kai approached her, and she backed away, wondering where her purse which also held her gun could be. Kai's friend had obviously not considered running into any obstacles. He stood stalk still behind a stack of boxes he was in the middle of opening.

"I'm not dead, so you and your friend can just leave now, please," Sam said, desperately trying to keep her voice firm.

"Your stuff is being sold. Did you know that?" Kai asked, taking another step towards her.

"Yes. Please go."

"No, Sam. I just came by to get a few things, then I'll be out of your hair," he smiled coldly.

"These are my things!" Sam shouted. "The only thing I might still have of yours is your I'm With Stupid shirt."

Kai laughed. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. But no, that's not what I'm looking for."

Sam studied him for a moment and she understood. "You're getting desperate, aren't you? That's the only reason you'd come back. They're after you now, aren't they?" Her eyes flicked to the empty doorway. John and Lionel should be back soon. Everything would be okay.

"No, Sammie," Kai said, stepping again. He knew she was scared, and Sam cursed herself for giving it away so blatantly. "I came back to get what I'm owed."

"What are you talking about?"

"So now you know nothing about sending your kung fu boyfriend after me?" Kai spat angrily. "I don't take threats very kindly, Sam."

"It's 'I don't take kindly to threats', you idiot. And I have no idea what you're talking about. My kung fu – oh no," Sam said under her breath as she realized who he was referring to.

"Coming back, isn't it?" Veins were popping out of Kai's neck. He was about to blow. "Now that you're here, just stay out of our way, and let me get what I need, okay?"

"What you need is to be strung up by your – "

Sam regretted speaking her mind before thinking first as Kai grabbed onto her.

"Kai!" his friend said.

Kai's large hand wrapped neatly around Sam's throat and he slammed her hard into the wall. "You owe me this," he said through gritted teeth. "Your new boyfriend smacked me around, so it's only fair," He slammed her hard again, knocking her head back. He lifted her up by her throat. Sam's toes barely touched the floor.

Sam choked in his grip. She tried to speak, but couldn't get the words out. He squeezed her throat and she gagged. She grabbed onto his wrist with both of her hands, trying to move his massive arm, but she wasn't strong enough.

"Let me get what I want, and you'll be okay. Deal?" Kai said softly, his face close to hers.

Sam nodded, her lips turning blue. Kai pulled his hand away, but slapped her hard across the face with the back of his hand. Sam stumbled, and fell into a stack of boxes, gasping for breath.

"Hey, what the hell?" It was Lionel's voice.

Sam looked up and saw John already behind Kai as he turned. They must have come in just as she fell. John struck hard, again and again. He was fast and powerful; the way he moved made Kai look like a lumbering ox. Kai's face was bloody before he hit the floor like a ton of bricks. Once he was down, John kicked him hard once more for good measure. He looked up, his eyes steely. "Get out," he said to Kai's friend. The man nodded and ran.

Lionel reached Sam first. He helped her up and held her steady as she tried regaining her breath. Her throat felt like it had been crushed. She wheezed and gasped, leaning on Lionel for support.

John looked down at Kai, his eyes hard and unfeeling. "You should have taken my warning more seriously," he said darkly.

Sam wheezed, blinking the tears out of her eyes.

"We should get her to the hospital," Lionel said. John's eyes snapped to her. Sam had never seen his face the way it was just then. His eyes were bright with an angry fire behind them, and his jaw was tight like a wound spring. He looked as close to crazy as she'd ever seen him.

She shook her head desperately. "No," she croaked. "No, it's getting better. Just give me a minute." She backed up against the wall and slid to down to the floor, where she sat and concentrated on breathing.

Lionel looked at John as he stepped over to Kai's semi-conscious body. "What are you going to do with him?"

John met Sam's eyes again. "Where's the rest of the packaging tape you were using?" he asked.

Sam pointed. "Bedroom," she wheezed.

John strode quickly out of the room, leaving Lionel staring down at Sam's very bloody and unfortunate ex boyfriend.

Long after that last trip with the last box into her new apartment – it was much too large in her opinion – Sam lie on her couch in her new living room with an ice pack on her throat. It felt nice and cool against the angry blue bruise Kai had left there. It was well into the evening. Sam could see the glow of street lights out the window.

She heard the front door open and close, and didn't bother to get up to see who it was.

"Sam?" John asked, unable to see where she was.

"Here," she waved her hand in the air over the back of the couch. Her voice was still scratchy, but it was much better than before.

John walked around the couch and looked down at her. He bent over and lifted the ice pack off of her throat. Sam heard him growl deep in his throat when he saw the bruise. He replaced the ice pack and Sam bent her knees, giving him room to sit on the couch.

"What did you do with him?"

"I don't know what you mean," John said.

Sam sat up and glared at him. "I saw you tape him up, John. What did you do with him? You didn't leave him in the truck, did you?"

"I just dropped him off somewhere," John said innocently.

"Where?"

"There are a few people looking for him, so I made him a little easier to find, let's put it that way."

Sam's jaw dropped. "You left him on the front porch of a loan shark, didn't you?"

"You said I could kick his teeth in if he came back," John said defensively.

"Yeah, but you totally cheated. He asked me about my 'kung fu boyfriend'. You are so busted," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"What makes you think it was me?"

"Oh, come on!" she raised her voice, and choked a little on the pain in her throat.

"That's why I went," John said. "He would have come back either way. I thought he'd be smart and take my first warning."

"He's not smart," Sam said plainly.

"No, he's not. And he didn't. So I took care of him."

"Wish I could have," Sam grumbled, gingerly touching her throat. "Maybe you could teach me some of that stuff, John. I don't always have my gun at hand, so it might be useful."

John eyed her for a moment, looking as though he was considering the idea. He didn't answer.

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes. "Have you ever played Truth or Dare?"

"I don't think so," John said with amusement.

"Basically, I ask you the question, Truth or Dare? and you pick one. If you choose truth, I ask you a question that you have to answer honestly. If you choose dare, I come up with a crazy stunt you have to do, otherwise you're out of the game."

"Will it just be me playing this game?"

"No, it goes back and forth," Sam gestured in between them.

John smiled. "That's a very dangerous game, Sam. For the both of us."

"I'm running out of ways of getting straight answers out of you," Sam said. "But if you're too afraid to try it – "

John studied her further and nodded. "Truth," he said before she could ask.

"Really? I'm shocked," Sam lifted her eyebrows, and switched the ice pack from her throat to her jaw. She decided to start with something simple, something he'd already spoken of. "Okay, the machine that the government has to track everyone, does it really exist?"

"Yes," John answered.

"And you and Harold have access to it?"

John smiled. "It's your turn. Truth or Dare?"

Sam sat back a little; the expression on John's face led her to believe that he might have been right in the first place about starting this game. "Truth."

"When we finished moving your things today, just before we left, I saw you slip an envelope in the mail box when you didn't think I was looking." John's voice was level, but his eyes were locked on her. "What was that?"

Sam considered her answer carefully. "It was a letter."

"To whom?"

"Nuh-uh," Sam shook her head. "Your turn. Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Why did you kiss me that night in the hotel?" Sam blurted, surprising herself at her directness.

John looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "It was a good idea at the time."

"Because you weren't planning on seeing me again?"

"Truth or dare?" John said.

"Truth."

"Do you want a family?"

Sam hesitated. John's eyes were no longer on her face. They lowered to his hands in his lap. "You have to be honest, Sam," he reminded her.

"Not if I won't see you… or, or Harold again," she added anxiously. "Truth or dare?"

John looked up at her slowly, a hint of light behind his eyes and his small smile. "Dare," he said.

All right, here's the deal. I know what I said when I first started this thing, that I had no ideas for future stories. That was true... at the time. But, in light of the season finale last night (Holy crap! How awesome was that? I always knew that John had a fantastic sense of humor buried down there somewhere. He made me giggle last night... a lot. "Wow. She's a lot prettier than Fusco.") that assessment is no longer true. :P

I actually came up with a new scenario while I was in the middle of writing this out. And, my main reason for writing fan fic in the first place is due to the lack of actual episodes to satisfy my craving - that's why I end up making up my own as it were. Now that we're on summer hiatus, I won't make any promises like the one I made earlier ever again.

In other words, this isn't the end for Sam. :) Thanks for reading and for your very generous reviews. You have no idea how much I love hearing your impressions of my writing! It's awesome.