Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it!

I posted this and realized I had some major edits I missed, so this is updated.

The Rise of Sam Axe:

Hiding In Plain Sight

By WritePassion

Virgil had been retired from the Navy for quite awhile, and he liked the casual lifestyle he'd adopted. Although sometimes he liked structure, especially when it came to things like the mail delivery. Granted, he rarely got anything. It was always stuff for Maddie. Yet every day without fail he went to the box at fifteen hundred hours to pull out the day's haul. When the mailman was late, he worried that something was wrong, that the agents down the street finally decided to steal the mail and rifle through it themselves. At fifteen-twenty, he heard the scrape of the box lid, and Virgil shot out of his seat to confront the letter carrier.

"You're late, Son," Virgil accused in a tone that used to strike fear in new recruits and subordinates alike.

"S-sorry, Mr. Watkins. I almost forgot this. It slipped out of my stack and landed on the floor of my truck," the young man apologized and handed him an envelope the size of a sheet of paper. It had a dirty tread impression on the front. "Sorry for the footprint."

"Well, as long as what's inside is intact, it's alright. Just be more careful next time, okay?" He gave the kid a thin smile, the kind that always made them promise to try harder while fear took root in their eyes.

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Watkins. I'll treat Mrs. Westen's mail like it belonged to my mom. I promise!" He whirled and wished him a good day as he hurried on to the next house.

Virgil chuckled under his breath. At his age, he had very little to amuse him. Harassing the younguns provided him some fun. If Sam was around, the two of them could go to Carlito's, enjoy some beers and mojitos and people watch all day. Thanks to some of his sources, he knew that Sam was in Oregon somewhere with his girlfriend Elsa, and agents were supposedly protecting them and Jesse. It reminded him of the car down the street. Every day it sat there with the same guys in it watching the house. Did they ever get some sleep? Did they go home, take a shower and change? It seemed as if they wore the same suits every day and never left the same space.

He gave them a grin and a wave, just to tick them off. Why they even bothered to pretend anymore was beyond him. Virgil took the mail inside, rifling through the junk mail and bills, keeping the large envelope for last despite the fact that it intrigued him.

"Virgil, was that the mail," Maddie asked, coming from the back of the house with a wash basket full of folded clothes.

"Yeah, darlin'. Nothin' but the same garbage and bills." He dropped the sorted piles on the table. "But this... this is something different." He grinned as he held it up. "It's postmarked Reno, Nevada."

"Nevada." Maddie's eyes grew wide as she gasped, and she reached for it. "Is it from Sam? Please, let me see it, Virgil!"

He gave it to her and watched as she tore into it with a letter opener. She shoved a hand inside and pulled out a piece of thick stock paper with fancy script and a gold seal at the bottom.

"What is that," Virgil asked. "Did you win something?"

Maddie turned it so she could read it, and Virgil moved to scan it over her shoulder. She read it and asked, "Who are Charles Edward Ramsey and Elaine Maureen Sawyer? This must be some mistake. It's a marriage certificate that someone mailed here by accident."

Virgil studied it intently. "The wedding took place a couple weeks ago in Reno. And it was witnessed by some guy named Peter Frahm." He looked at the signatures again, especially the one that scrawled out Charles' name. He sucked in a breath and whispered, "Sammy."

"What?" Maddie whirled to face him. "What did you say?"

"I'd know that chicken scratch anywhere," Virgil replied with a growing smile. "It's Sam's handwriting, only he's using an alias."

"Are you sure? How could you know?"

Virgil looked away for a few seconds before meeting her eyes. "Since the last time I left, I, uh, I've been corresponding with Sammy. He let me know how you were doing. When I hadn't heard from him for awhile, that's what brought me back here." He let out a breath. "That and the fact that the last time he did write, he said that something was happening. He couldn't tell me what, but he thought he might be gone for awhile and that it'd be wise for me to come back here. That is, if I didn't hear from him again for a couple months. So I did what he said."

"Virgil, I'm so glad you did. You saved my sanity," Maddie said and hugged him. "If it weren't for you, I would have gone crazy with grief when I thought Michael and Fiona were dead."

He held her and said, "I'm glad I was here when you found out different, because I think you would have ripped the head off the bearer of the news."

She nodded, then pulled away and examined the certificate. Sniffling, she asked, "Why do you think it was sent here?"

"They probably didn't want to give away their location." He whistled. "They sure went through a lot of trouble to cover their tracks. Nevada!" Shaking his head, he took the document and opened a drawer in the buffet. "We should hang onto this for when they come back."

Virgil glanced at Maddie and saw the sunny smile on her face. Talking positively was like a balm for her soul.

"Do you think this means that Sam and Elsa got married, for real?"

He nodded. "I do. When they come home, I don't know if they'll have to go through it all over again, or if the names can just be changed. The important thing is that they would be here."

"I agree." She looked misty eyed. "Until Michael and Fiona are home..."

It was time to distract her, before she dissolved into tears. With a grin, Virgil said, "Say, why don't we have a little fun? Let's go to the beach."

"That would be nice." Maddie's smile widened. "It's always fun to see those agents try to walk through the sand in those dress shoes." She let out a short laugh. "I'll go get my suit on and be right back."

"I'll be waiting, darlin'." When she was out of hearing, Virgil let out a deep sigh.

He glanced at the paper one more time and envisioned what it must have been like for his friend to marry the woman of his dreams with no one but one other person to witness it. Was it Jesse? If so, what happened to the two agents who were with them? So many unanswered questions swirled in his head. Virgil took his mind off them and focused on the fact that Sam was married. He vowed that when everyone was home, he and Maddie would put on a party for the couple and make sure they'd never regret that they missed family being there for one of the most important days of their lives.

The drawer had a false bottom, one he installed himself. It would be nearly impossible for the agents to find the certificate inside. He secured the bottom and closed the drawer, and when Maddie came downstairs, they went to the beach.

The sun peeked over the trees, showing its brilliance and announcing another day. They hadn't seen much of it through the winter, and it reminded Sam of Michigan just a little bit except that Oregon wasn't quite as cold. He spent a good part of his growing up years in Michigan. For almost six months now he'd taken on the alias of Charles Edward Ramsey, and it fit him, but he would gladly shuck it in a heartbeat if only things would clear up and he, his wife Elsa, and friend Keith would no longer be in danger.

"Morning, Sam," Keith greeted him as he joined him on the deck and held out a cup of fresh coffee. "How's Elsa doing?"

"Still sick." Sam took a sip of the fresh brew and hiked a foot up on the lower rail that ran around the perimeter of the deck. "I'm afraid she picked up something in town."

"That's the price we pay for trying to blend in," Keith declared. "So glad spring seems to be here. Maybe people will start getting healthy again."

"Maybe." Sam sighed and fell silent, his eyes scanning the wooded horizon. A deer walked along the valley floor, oblivious to the two men who watched from above.

"You're lucky you're not in season," Keith muttered and smiled as he pantomimed a rifle. "Why couldn't we get easy shots like that last year?"

"I think they know somehow." Pointing with his coffee cup, Sam said, "That guy's probably doing a deer version of giving you the finger." He laughed, the sound echoing through the trees, causing the deer to look upward and lock on them. The animal weighed the danger, sniffed, and went on his way at a casual pace. "Oh yeah, he thinks he's king. Did you see that rack on him?"

"Meh, I've seen better on a..."

"Shh." Sam turned at the sound of the door opening, and when he saw that it was Elsa, he gave her a warm smile. "Hey baby, are you okay to be up and around?"

Elsa approached shuffling her feet with a thick blanket wrapped around her. If anyone looked her in the eye, they wouldn't think she was ill, but her face was pale. She'd run a brush through her hair to try to make herself look more presentable, but it didn't help how she felt.

"Sam, I'm so tired of lying around. But I can't do anything."

"Come here, pumpkin," Sam said and curled an arm around her shoulders. He handed Keith his cup and enveloped her completely. "Maybe we should take you to the doctor, although it's too late for him to give you a round of Tamiflu. You're almost over this."

"I don't feel like I'm almost over it," she grumbled and pushed away from him. Bunching up the blanket in her hands, she became contrite. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm so moody."

"You're sick," Keith excused. "I know you guys don't wanna see me when I'm sick. I'm like a big whiny baby." He drank from his cup. "Sam's right, we should take you into town and get you checked out."

"I suppose there's no sense in voting." She pouted. "Fine, I'll get dressed." She shuffled back inside, her slippers scuffing on the wood planks.

"Wow." Keith finished off his coffee. "You want a refill, man?"

"No, I'm good." He followed Keith inside the house, heading toward the stairs to take care of Elsa. The phone rang, and he detoured to the kitchen to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Mr. Ramsey, this is Henry Devine. You don't know me, but you and your friend Pete came highly recommended by Larry Weeks, the owner of the hardware store."

"Oh yeah, Larry. Well, Mr. Devine, what can we do for you?"

"I've been burglarized a couple times over the past month. And before you say anything, yeah, I went to the police. All they do is take a statement, they write up a report, and nothing happens."

Concerned, Sam asked, "What are they taking?"

"The usual. Oxycodone mostly, Vicadin, a few other things." Mr. Devine paused. "I've had miscounts before on an irregular basis. You know, human error. This time, however, someone came in and took my entire inventory of Oxycodone and Oxycontin."

"Pete and I need to go into town anyway. We'll stop in and see what we can do."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Ramsey! I don't know what we did before you fellas came along. The cops are too lazy to do their jobs right, and if it weren't for you, there'd be chaos in no time."

Sam smiled. "I don't think it would be that bad, but hey, thanks for the vote of confidence." It had started with one crime several months earlier, and before long Sam and Keith became the go-to guys when the citizens of Hope needed someone to handle a problem. It was hardly conducive to remaining on the down-low, but so far no one outside the community had taken any interest in their extracurricular activities. When people began paying them for their services in cash, it was hard to say no.

Getting involved helping the little guy, that's what made Sam's blood pump. Not this running away from the corrupt CIA crap. Sam set up a time to meet, and he hung up the phone as he informed Keith of their appointment. "We can take Elsa to the doctor and while she's being looked at, we'll talk to Mr. Devine. We'll probably need to get some prescription filled at his place, anyway."

"Good idea, Sam. You should probably check on her."

Sam went upstairs, knocked before entering, and found Elsa sitting on the bed, half clothed and holding her stomach. She had the most pitiful expression on her face when she looked at him. "Oh, honey," Sam commiserated and approached her. "Here, why don't you lay back and I'll dress you. Okay?"

She nodded, fell onto the rumpled bed and threw an arm over her eyes as she began to cry. This was so unlike her, her behavior was alarming. He wanted to tell her it was okay, that she didn't have to cry, but he knew it would be useless. Instead, he threaded her legs into a pair of jeans and pulled them up to her backside, then picked her up enough to get them to her waist where he could fasten them.

"Stay up, just until I get your shirt on."

It was going to be a warmer day, so Sam tugged a t-shirt over her head. The bright pink gave her some color, but it didn't improve the expression on her face. Unable to help himself, and knowing he'd been exposed to her enough by now that if he was going to get sick, he would have contracted her flu, Sam took her into his arms as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry I'm such a lump," she mumbled into his chest and sniffled.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her description. "It's okay. Just wait til I get sick some day, and then you can take care of me." For a moment he left her alone while he retrieved a brush from the dresser. "Turn a little so I can brush your hair." He ran the bristles through the tangles.

"Mmmm, I love it when you do that."

He brushed until a smile appeared on her face and the last of the snarls were gone. Then he pulled her hair up into a ponytail and fastened it with an elastic band. "Your hair is getting really long, you know that?"

She nodded. "I kind of like it."

"Me too." He kissed the back of her exposed neck and said, "You ready to go?" She nodded.

Elsa clung to him as he helped her down the stairs and into the back of the SUV. He and Keith sat up front, and Sam drove. He looked at the house in the rearview mirror as he drove away. It had become a habit every time he left the property. At his insistence, a couple days' worth of clothes were tucked into cases and hidden in the cargo area in the vehicle on the off chance that they would have to bug out on the fly. It kept them from getting too comfortable and lowering their guard. This day was no different.

Sam dropped Elsa off at the doctor's office and made sure she would be seen before he accompanied Keith to the drug store. He emerged from the office and a large, reddish brown dog came from nowhere and rushed at him, forcing Sam to back up against the wall.

"Hey, what's with this dog," Keith asked. He lunged for the collar and missed, the animal sidestepping him to focus on Sam.

The dog barked at him, but he didn't charge. Sam locked eyes with him, and he stopped barking. The two stared at each other for a long time, until finally the dog looked away, whining. He licked his chops and bowed his head, then slunk away to the woods behind the doctor's office.

"What was that all about," Sam asked and shook his head, staring at the dog as it trotted into the stand of evergreens. "That was too weird."

"I thought he was gonna attack you or something," Keith exclaimed, still shaken by the dog's actions. He slipped his jacket up to expose his side arm. "I almost pulled this out."

"No need for that." Sam shook his head. "He must have thought I was his owner or something."

"Dogs do not do that to their owners," Keith protested.

"What can I say? I've always been more of a cat person. Maybe he detected that," Sam joked. He took a step forward. "Come on, we've got business to take care of."

Like most of the shops on the main street, a bell on the door announced their arrival. A voice from behind the back counter called, "Be right with you!" Mr. Devine came out from an area stocked full of boxes and large bottles of pills and other medicines. He spied the two men and smiled. "Gentlemen, it's good to see you! Come on back and let me show you the scene of the crime."

Keith and Sam glanced at each other and followed him to the store room. He stopped at a shelf and looked down. Small bins lay scattered on the vinyl flooring, a couple of glass bottles lay broken and leaking drugs, the contents seeping into the cracks.

"This is what I found when I arrived." He pointed to the mess. "I looked around for an entry point, but the lock wasn't broken on the back door. I can't imagine anyone could get out the front without leaving the store unlocked." He shook his head in bemusement. "I just don't know how this could have happened."

Sam checked out the back door, examining the knob and locking mechanism without touching it. "Hey, Mr. Devine, do you have any activated carbon?"

"Why yes, I do." He looked at Sam strangely. "What do you need it for?"

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up into a smile. "Watch, and you'll see. I'll also need a brush of some kind and some clear tape."

Mr. Devine obtained everything Sam asked for while Keith looked around the store for a possible exit. He watched both men with fascination and wariness. Everyone who had hired them sang their praises, but he was still unsure. Sam put his fears to rest as he dusted the knob and lock with the powder and lifted prints with the tape.

"I'll have to get the prints of everybody who works here to be sure we can determine whether these prints belong to them or our thief." He eyed Mr. Devine. "Unless one of your employees did this."

"Oh no, I can't believe that. I have a couple of high school kids who work here after school, but they're good kids. They don't get into drugs, really!"

Sam pursed his lips. "When do they come in?"

"After school." Mr. Devine wrung his hands.

"We'd like to talk to them, but don't tell them when they come in." Sam straightened and picked up the impressions. "We'll take these and get a sample of your prints now, and when we come back later today, we'll get everyone else's."

"Then you'll catch who did this, if someone's fingerprints match."

"Yes. But we'd need more evidence than that." Sam glanced at the corners. "I would suggest getting some cameras in here to record who comes and goes. Get some that work in low light and keep some illumination in here for security. Next time, you'll have them on tape." He paused and held up a finger. "And whatever cameras you set up, make sure they're not easily visible and can be tampered with."

"Thank you, Mr. Ramsey, Mr. Frahm. I guess this is what happens when a small town starts getting big."

"Unfortunately, it's just the way of the world," Keith responded. "I didn't see any way that someone could get out of here without avoiding leaving evidence that they broke in."

"I know what you're thinking," Sam said. "Mr. Devine, we'll be back at about four. Will that be good?"

"Perfect. Thank you!"

On the way to the doctor's office, Sam said, "I'm thinking this was an inside job. One of those kids, maybe helping a friend get easy access to drugs."

"If that's the case, just fingerprints wouldn't be enough," Keith said. "We'll have to interview them, find out about their friends, and go from there."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Sam looked ahead toward the office and saw Elsa standing outside, taking in the fresh air and smiling at him, but the expression was shaky.

"Hey baby, how are you? What did the doc say?" He was surprised when she launched herself into his embrace and pressed close. With an arm around her shoulders, he asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Looking up at him with tears in her eyes, she replied, "I'm pregnant."