Hey everybody. As usual, I don't own Flashpoint, and check out my profile for story ideas.

I got a couple of Guest reviews wanting to know about Sam and his dad's conversation, and for more Sam and Wordy moments - so I combinded them. I think I wrote most of the Sam and Wordy stuff after I looked at the reviews, but I got stuck with his dad, so that part is probably not the best; that and the first part of it was wrote past two in the morning. Thanks for the reviews and I hope you like this story. Thanks for reading.

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Sam walked up the steps and rang the doorbell of the Wordsworth residence. Time and time again Wordy and Shelley had told him he didn't have to ring, just to come in - everyone on the team had each others keys, in case of emergency, but he always felt he would be barging in if he didn't at least ring. A small grin came to his face as he heard three small sets of feet running to the door and a woman's voice gently scolding them not to answer without an adult and to get ready for dinner.

Wordy dodged his daughters as they ran past him to the kitchen. He opened the door calling over his shoulder, ''Don't forget to wash in between you're fingers, not just the tops of your hands. Sam,'' he said exasperatedly, ''we've talked about this. You have a key -''

''I know, I know,'' Sam ducked his head a little.

Wordy sighed. ''He's perfectly fine with kicking in a door at work, but give him a key and what does he do, he rings the door bell,'' he shook his head. ''Come on in, then. Shell's cooking something - don't know what it is, but it smells good.'' He stepped to the side to let Sam in and locked the door behind him. ''You didn't call last night. Everything go okay with you're dad?'' he watched as Sam shifted from foot to foot. ''I'll take that as a no.''

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(flashback)

Walking into the lobby of his apartment complex, Sam readied himself for his dad's visit. He had dropped Natalie off at her place, not wanting her to go through two arguments in one day, and the dinner she had bought him was already churning in his stomach. He looked around the small room and saw his dad sitting in a chair in the corner, in a place where he was able to see in all directions. He had the fleeting thought to turn around and walk out, but he could already feel his dad's cold eyes on him. Masking his features and standing up staighter out of habit, he went over. ''Hello, Dad.''

''Samuel. It took you long enough to get here,'' his dad's monotone voice bit back at him, as the newspaper in his hands was folded up and place on the side table.

''I wanted to make sure Natalie got home safe before I came here.''

''How noble. Let's not waste any more time than you already have. I'm on a tight scedule.''

Sam silently walked to the elevator and pushed the up button.

(flashforward)

Sam closed his apartment door behind him, feeling like the lock and door chain was trapping him in more than keeping a burglar out. He turned around to see his dad survaling his small apartment, silence filling the air between them. ''Make yourself at home.''

''I would hardly consider this a home,'' he said, taking off his coat and folding it over his arm.

Sam bit his tongue to keep his words in check.

''Aren't you going to offer me dinner, or a beverage.'' It wasn't a question, and Sam met his dad's blank stare with one of his own.

''I ate before I got here. I could fix you something?''

''I already ate as well. However, I did raised you with manners; it's a pity you seem to have forgotten them,'' he said, sitting down in a chair and crossing his ankle over his knee.

Raised me? More like train me ever since I learned to walk. Sam gritted his teeth as he walked over to the couch and plopped down. ''I hope you enjoyed your meal.''

''Satisfactory. Better than anything your culinary skills could come up with. Let's get to the point Samuel. I have given you plenty of time to play out this 'civil servant' role you seem to be interested in, however, you're a grown man. It is time you get your priorites back, on track.'' The General reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out some papers, tossing them onto the table in front of him. ''The official papers are in my office. This is what your itenerary will look like, and you will get your rank of Master Corprel back as well, of course. I can have you start your next tour within the week.''

''Whoa, wait. What? I'm not going back in. Okay. I have told you this plenty of times already. I have a job, that I am happy with.''

''You should be happier serving your country. Protecting it - the way I taught you,'' he said in a controled calm.

''I am protecting my country. I've never stopped. Just because I'm doing my duty within the border instead of out, doesn't make it any less protecting,'' he said leaning forward in his seat. ''You know what? No, I'm not doing this anymore. You can either respect me - respect my decision - or you can just leave.'' Sam rose to his feet and stood his ground. He was pretty sure the General wouldn't be bothering him anymore, and he found it odd that the thought saddend and comforted him at the same time.

The General slowly came to his feet as well, with fire behind his eyes, and Sam prepared himself for the explosion.

(end of flashback)

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Sam told Wordy about what happened in brief detail quietly, not wanting the girls to hear, and he didn't tell him everything. He knew it only would've made him madder. As it was, a glance at Wordy's face when he was done talking showed a calm exterior, but his eyes were a different story. Sam could tell he was mad. ''It's no big deal, Wordy, really.''

''It is a big deal,'' he grunted lowly.

''No ...''

''Sam,'' Wordy cut him off, and regarded him carefully. He waited a moment before saying, ''You have a home here.''

Sam ducked his head, ''I know.''

''No.'' Wordy placed one hand over his heart and lifted Sam's chin up with the other. ''You have a home here,'' he gruffly pulled Sam in for a tight hug. ''You're the best son a dad could ask for.''

Sam hugged him back just as tightly, burying his face into Wordy's shoulder. After a moment, he realized he felt little arms wrapped around his leg, and looked down to see Lilly.

''Mommy says dinner's ready,'' she said looking up at him with a small smile.

''Thank you princess,'' Wordy said, picking her up. ''Come on,'' he threw his arm around Sam as they walked into the kitchen.