Through my uneasy sleep, I heard something. Instinctively, my eyes snapped open, I reached under my pillow and aimed warningly at the opening door. Sam stepped in, saw me and raised his hands defensively with raised eyebrows.

"Whoa, Mikey, it's me. Calm down."

I lowered my handgun with a sigh and rubbed at my eyes. "Yeah, that's a little hard to do when the whole world is out for my skin."

"Hey, now, that's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" Sam said, going straight for my fridge. "I mean, Fiona, Maddy and I aren't out to kill you. Really, it's just this mystery person who's out to get you."

"That we know of," I pointed out, throwing my sheets off and stepping out of bed. "And, since it's a 'mystery' person, that translates into everyone."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Sam waved off, opening a beer. "Can't be too careful, whatever. Still. You need to relax a bit."

I wasn't going to argue with him anymore. I didn't have the energy.

"So. Sleeping in late? You're usually up and about by this time. Tired? Has been stressful lately."

I'd have to remember to give Sam some award for understatement of the year. Stressful lately. Not at all. Fi decides to leave, someone comes to town to kill her, almost succeeds, meanwhile my one ticket to getting my job back turns out to be helping Fi's to-be murderer, I kill Strickler (that one I was still wrapping my mind around), that gets the whole world out on my ass. Stressful? Never.

"Tired, yes. Sleeping in late, no. Just got to bed an hour or so ago."

Sam raised his eyebrows at me again as I walked over to him to grab a yogurt. "What were you doing all night?" he asked. He frowned, eyes fixed on my every movement as I grabbed a spoon and started eating. "Fiona wasn't over, was she?"

Now I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean, Sam?"

He coughed. "Well, I mean, she did just almost die. And leave. And you two did just get into a fight. Maybe you two made up and--"

"Sam!" Suddenly I understood where he was going with this. "No. Fi was not over."

"But you've made up, right?" Sam said, pointing at me. I scowled.

"Not like that."

Sam didn't look convinced. Truth be told, I couldn't blame him. But I wasn't going to admit that. However, it seemed as if things between Fi and I were at a point we'd never had to deal with before. Things seemed a bit... awkward. It was strange: I wasn't really the awkward type and neither was she. But the few times we had talked since saving her, neither of us had had any real conversation that had to do with anything. We could talk business, but we couldn't look into each other's eyes. It wasn't right. And it made me uneasy.

"So, uh, look," Sam said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Your mom sent me over here."

I raised an eyebrow. "She couldn't just call?"

Sam looked uncomfortable. "She's not exactly thrilled that I'm staying at her place again."

"Someone is after me, Sam! We don't know--"

Sam raised his hands. "I know, Mike! But you know your mom. She gets touchy."

I growled, shoving my spoon in the yogurt with a little more force than necessary. "What does she want?"

"Her oven's broken."

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Of course it is." I took one last spoonful of the yogurt before setting it down. "All right. Let me shower first, I'll be right over."

Sam gave me a twisted expression. "Would it, uh... be okay if I just hung out over here until you're ready to go?"

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Are you really that scared of my mom?"

Sam hesitated for a moment before saying, very firmly, "Yes. Yes, I am."

A/N: It's a prologue. It's short. Not much happens, except for setting up. However, I can promise you, there will be thrilling action starting next chapter.

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