Old habits die hard. Sam was heartbroken, but she was never one to stay down for long. She needed advice or at least a familiar face to take comfort with. Someone she could at least hug for once. Sometimes, even the toughest gal needs to embrace a friend just for a moment. But, there was a problem in the form of being completely broke. She left her fortune to her kids in her will, after all. But, Sam's vocation wasn't exactly hard to adapt to a world she'd been absent from for 10 years. She was still very much an outlaw at heart. Off to the seedy parts of downtown, redlight districts, and projects. She'd seen huge advancements in technology and a sparkling city of progress and fortune, but all of these metropolises had their dark underbellies in her time and that has definitely not changed.

"Is there an establishment you would specifically like to visit?" Cav asked in her trademark soft disinterest.

Sam stroked her jaw before she replied "Can you access police reports, crime statistics and the like?"

"Of course, Sam. Almost all consumer-grade driving A.I.s can access such information to provide the vehicle owner with an idea of the risks associated with an establishment."

"I take back calling you 'useless' Cav, that's a really nice feature. Ok, find me the filthiest and dirtiest nightclubs and bars around."

"I am unable to; any and all establishments with poor cleanliness records are shut down by the city health inspectors."

"No, ok.. Ok find me those with the highest crime rate or the most likely to play host to criminals."

"Why would you seek out those? Surely you wish to avoid crime, lest you become a victim, Sam?"

"Oh, there's no victim here, let me assure you."

"Very well, Sam, I will have law enforcement numbers on standby. The nearest nightclub to fit your desired description is the Neon Orca. It is run by one, Barbas Blackwell."

"Nice name."

"It is probably an alias, Barbas has an extensive criminal record. Racketeering, drug smuggling, and a host of other crimes to indicate he runs or is part of a criminal syndicate; a mafia."

Sam's smile spreads wide over her cheeks "Perfect. What else can you tell me?"

"Barbas possesses a number of cybernetic enhancements. Expect greater than average strength in his arms and legs. He should be assumed to always be armed, as well. Are you certain you wish to go here, Sam?"

"Yes, and what is Barbas?"

"He is an Orca."

"Figures."

"He is not far from his personal group of muscle at any given time, reports indicate, as well."

"Of course, scum float together. Be ready, I'll be leaving this nightclub in a hurry, Cav. Regardless of how this turns out."

It wasn't long until the gaudy pink neon lights of the Neon Orca were drowning out every other color on the street. Sam pulls the car slowly into a spot about a block away from the club. The moment she stepped out of the car, she was overwhelmed with the sound of synthesized music that boomed inside of the tastelessly colored club. The sun's weak purple haze was on the horizon as she passed by alleys on the way to the front end of the glowing building. A queue was lined up at the front of the club with a very heavily modified panther operating the front door. There wasn't any way she was getting past him with a weapon. When she arrived at her destination, Sam leans against the outside wall while holding a hand up to her ear and hoping that cellphones were still in vogue and hadn't changed much in 10 years. Her other hand reaches up and feels about behind her neck, searching for the "on" switch. When she finds it, it clicks on with a satisfying snap.

"Ronnie, can you hear me?" She asked inquisitively, awaiting a reply. When it came, it was clearly a surprise for him.

"Sam?! Sam, where are you? I've been worried off my ass!"

"Ever heard of a place called the Broken Orca?"

"Yeah, it's some crappy nightclub downtown, is that where you are?"

"Yup, doing a little bit of scavenging. I wanted to ask you something, actually."

"Ok, what is it?"

"Would it be possible to prove who I am through DNA testing or something?"

"Well, yeah of course."

"Suppose it'd work to prove to my daughters I'm.. well me."

"Of course, just compare their DNA to yours."

"Fuck, I always forget, they're adopted.."

"Oh... yeah that won't help, I'm sorry, Sam."

"Don't sweat it I'll.." At that moment, a back door swings open as wolf-cyborg drags a wolfess from inside, kicking and screaming. ".. I'll call you back." She clicked the switch off on her neck and approaches the arguing pair. Stretching out her arm, the scabbard follows suit. With a release of gas, the sword hurtles up into Sam's grip. With a swing, she brings it upright and to bear.  Her gait is slow and steady as she nears the pair.

"No! You get your hands off me, you son of a bitch!" Almost immediately, the wolfess is slapped hard enough across the face to send her spiraling to the ground. She lands on her front and slowly rolls into a sitting position, blood clearly visible on her jaw. He stands over her, fist clinched, as Sam closes in slowly and allows her last foot step to clearly be heard. His gaze directs over his shoulder to the shark.

"And,  can I help you?" He asks with a sneering tone, his glowing red eyes actively scanning over Sam.

"Yeah, you can give me your keys to this club and piss off."

The wolf snarls a smile and turns to face the unamused shark. "Oh sure, after you go fuck yourself. Buzz off, bitch. Mind your own business."

"Lot of tough talk from someone who's gotta get his point across through brutality. I only butcher fuckers that deserve it. And boy, I think you're about to earn every ounce of pain I'm going to inflict on you."

The wolf shook his head angrily, rolling his eyes, before he reached for his gun. He didn't pay attention to the shark that was already upon him and ready to strike. The moment his gun holding arm is extended and targeting information is relayed to his eyes, he only sees a blur of orange light followed by his forearm tumbling away.  Before he can yell out as the pain receptors tell his brain something is wrong, Sam plants her foot into his chest, her black metal leg sending him sailing down the alley several feet. As he tries to sit up, she lands on his chest, her knees driving arms into the pavement. The flat of the sword slaps onto his cheek, pinning his head to one side. He can get a perfect view of the searing hot edge of the blade.

Sam reminds him of her request. "Keys. Piss off." The blade twists 90 degrees in her grip and slowly starts to drag the impossibly hot edge across his cheek, causing it burn off body moisture as steam while it simultaneously cuts and cauterizes the skin. He buckles in pain, flailing wildly, before finally giving in.

"FINE FINE! FINE! STOP! YOU GOT IT!"

She leaps up from him and saunters to the side, swinging the orange tipped blade, watching the wolf-cyborg contort to reach the keys. He hurled them onto the gritty concrete before jumping to his feet and hastily running off.  Sam turns to the wolfess, who had managed to get to her feet. She nears her slowly, not wanting to alarm her "Are you ok?"

"YES!" She barks angrily, wiping her jaw off "That was my fucking boyfriend, you bitch!"

Sam snarls with rage as she wraps her grip around the wolfess and pins her back to the brick exterior of the nearby building. "You put up with that shit? You moron. He just cold-cocked you. Don't tell me that was the only time it ever happened, either. You collect yourself, you leave him, you find someone who's not going to do that."  With a rough shove, she lets go of the wolfess and storms away. The key fits the door as she anticipate and when it swings open, the odor of smoke practically knocks her over. Shaking it off, she quickly makes her through the narrow hall until it feeds into the massive room filled to burst with patrons. Realizing she still had her weapon drawn, she slides it back into its holster quietly before proceeding in farther.

The interior was even more gaudy with pink and purple neon lights serving as practically the only lighting in the club. To top it off, the walls, ceiling, and floor were all black. Club goers were bumping and grinding on each other as synthesized music thumped through speakers and sub-woofers. The beautiful people, as they thought of themselves, bounded around to it as Sam watched on with annoyance.

She hated this scene. It enraged her to see the wanton irresponsibility made her shake her head in a muted manner as she cut a path through the sea of scantily clad bodies. Upon further thought, she laughed to herself and realized it was the mother in her talking. Admittedly, at one point in her life she would've probably enjoyed this. She could probably very easily fit in with the crowd in their debauchery. Her new body wasn't a slouch in the looks department, she felt. But, those were thoughts best left for another time. She wasn't here to bump and grind, she was hear to steal wads of cash and get out. It was hard to tell where the walls even began. The black color and lack of any real reference gave her little depth perception. Eventually, she did make her way  through the crowd and out the other side. Out of the corner of her eye she recognizes the outline of a white door off in the corner to her right. It stood out too well to be a venue for guests to access. 

Nose turned to goal, Sam homes in on the door, stomping closer and closer as she expects someone to stop her at any point. She makes it all the way to the white door without trouble. A little surprised, she lets herself in and find a reprieve from the pink neon in the form of bland, unpainted cement walls and floors while exposed pipes ran through the framework on the ceiling. It made for a welcome change. But, the with the change came strings attached. She was finally noticed as she rounded a turn. Two large cyborg panthers take notice.

"Hey, hey, you can't be back here, employees on-"

With a loud rush of gas, the holster fires the sword into Sam's hands. She pulls the trigger on it and the edge glows with heat. "You either do as I say or I turn you into mulch."

"Oh is this really happening?! Awesome" One of them cackles with delight, pulling a pair of short knives from his belt and spinning them expertly on his fingers. However, his comrade didn't seem so willing.

"Hey, if she's just robbing the joint, just let her through. Better than dealing with corpses."

He doesn't listen, charging straight at the shark. His attacks aren't wild and uncoordinated, but carried balance and grace with them. He knew what he was doing. However, Sam found that countering each stab was an effortless exercise. A twist of the wrist, a shift of the arm, and every time it resulted in a satisfying sound of metal striking metal. She was, however, allowing him a great deal of ground and found herself quickly backed up against the wall. In an instant, he tried to sink both of the daggers into her chest, only to find Sam's sword flat against them, pushing him away. She snarled out one final warning. "Don't make me destroy you, I'm after Barbas.. not you!"

"HAH! Babe, he signs my checks! I'm not lookin' to let me cash flow get cut off! But you're pissin' me off! You're disrespecting the family, and yer' gonna have t'pay up after I cut you down to size. Y'think you're the first cyborg I've cut down to size?" And with that he bellows out loudly and shoves away. Feet plant into the concrete floor and propel through the air to pounce on the shark with both knives. But right as he lands and is about to sink both knives into Sam, her fist slams right into his jaw, snapping his head to the side. She doesn't waste momentum and winds completely around once to bring her blade to the exposed flank of the doomed panther. It cuts right through his midsection without an ounce of resistance. Sparks shower out of his body as hydraulic fluid and blood mix in a cascade down the front of his severed hips. His torso lands flat on the ground before his abdomen collapses to its knees, the interior workings of his cybernetic body glowing orange from the cut. Sam gives it a kick and steps over the deceased panther before facing down the second one.

"So then, will it be violence or will you step aside." She asks him, waving her weapon toward him as she closed in, her blue eyes glowing as  they pointed out possible weak points on his build. However, he raises his hands up and responds calmly.

"Neither. How about cooperation?"

"Cooperation? Whaddya mean?" Sam's eyes narrow and her nose tilts up slightly as she sizes up the panther, ready to kill at any moment.

He responded, still calm, with his deep voice and thick accent that she couldn't place."I cashed my last check two days ago. I cannot work in this den of inequity any longer. You want Barbas? Then the world will be better for his loss. What do you want to do here, exactly?"

"I was just going to snap up some cash, I.. well you wouldn't believe it if I told you. I just need to go see a close friend that's quite a ways away."

"I see. You couldn't have picked a better place to rob. Barbas is a vile man without much consideration for others. I will find else where to work. The things that go on around here? Pimping, person trafficking, it is a shameful place. They practically run a slavery operation. There have been many murders committed in the name of profit, here. I will not be alerting the other bouncers in Barbas' office."

"Hmm... how many?"

"Two. Barbas is a formidable adversary, he does not need much protection. They will be seated to your right just as you enter the office. I advise doing away with them immediately."

"Thank you...?"

"Benjamin, you may address me as."

"Thanks, Benjamin. I was gonna tell you to get into a closet or one of these rooms and lock the door-"

"That is actually a good idea, I will do that."

"Keep your head down." Sam finished as the panther slips into a security room and closes the door. The lock bolts shut and she proceeds down the hall once more. When she turns left, there is a small flight of steps leading up to another door. Sam assumes she's been heard with the previous scuffle and wastes no time on trying to be stealthy. With  mighty slash, she cuts the door in half lengthwise. The heated element of the blade ignites the wooden door as it falls in two. The guards were not even paying attention, her previous encounter having gone unnoticed.  They turn to face her, reaching for their pistols. But, they're just too slow. Within scant few seconds, Sam's blade flies effortlessly through both. They pause before collapsing into sparking messes of parts on the office floor.

Behind the desk in the middle of the room sits a very large and displeased orca wearing a trench coat. He scowls at Sam before standing up. He stands around 7 feet tall and it looks as if he bulges with muscle. "And you are?" He inquires with a resoundingly deep voice.

"Meanest bitch you'll ever meet, Barbas. I was just going to rob this place, but your crimes are too heinous to go unpunished. Trafficking prostitutes? It sounds like slavery to me. And it sounds like your operation needs to be shut down. You're going to be a police out line when I'm done."

"When you're done, I'll have your body strung up as a trophy in here." He raises his mighty fist up and slams it down on the desk, splintering it. Stepping over the crunched wooden mess, he paces to the glass that makes up one wall of the office, looking out over the dance floor. "Look. You want to bring justice? You'll have to kill all those people, too. They create the demand, I just satisfy it. I'm only in the business of sating the most primal of hungers people possess. They are why I must trample the personhood of a few whores. It's just business. Normally, I'd just make you work off this insult, but I'm thinking.." His hand reaches up and brushes aside his coat's collar, letting it slump down to the floor. His entire massive bulk is a mass of cybernetics. His body is more machine than natural tissue. His artificial muscle bulges as he flexes his arms. In a flash, massive twin blades fly from his forearms as he turns to face Sam. "... I think I will enjoy getting this exercise." The blades light up, heated much like Sam's weapon.

He doesn't yell when he lunges, but he flies at Sam like a freight train. She barely has enough time to  Parry the blow. Sparks fly as heated elements collide with one another. Sam is taken off guard by the speed and ferocity of his assault, his scimitar like arm-blades slashing dangerously close to her hide. She allows herself to concentrate all of her attention on his bladed weapons and is caught by surprise when a massive foot slams into her, catapulting the shark into the concrete wall. She yelps out in pain, finding out that her pain receptors do, indeed, work. Before she can pull herself from the crater she left in the wall, his hand wraps around her neck and tears her from it.

"You will die a failure, you upstart little shit!" He bellows as his reach slams the poor sharkette into th ground. Before she can stand, his foot stomps its mass down on top of her chest, crating her body into the ground. He doesn't stop there as blow after blow is given, stomping her harder and harder into the ground. A leg curls up from the pounding blows and the orca grips it, pulling Sam from the smashed concrete and flinging her into the ceiling, her impact bending in the framework rafters before she hurtles back down onto the shards of wood that was once a desk. 

The orca starts to stomp over, poising himself over the weakened shark, and prepares to deliver the death blow. "This is the end, little shark. I hope it was worth it." Massive curved and glowing scimitars rear back, ready to deal the final attack.

Brilliance flashed in Sam's head not a moment too soon. She rolls onto her back slowly and hopes her poker face is up to snuff. She gets the confirmation she needs. Barbas curls a wicked smile "Yes, let me see your agony as life slips away." His arms lurch downward to do the deed, but would never find their mark. Sam hurls herself up and, with sword still gripped in her hand through the whole ordeal, she aims it right into the orca's gut. With one hand around the hilt and a palm on the butt of it, she drives it clean through Barbas', impaling him. His scream is deafening as his body's pain receptors light up, telling his brain something is very wrong. He looses his killing momentum. Sam back the massive orca up and twists the sword out in a haze of blood and hydraulics. He stumbles backwards and tries to regain control over his mass as he clumsily backs into the glass. Sam offers him no space as she leaps and firmly plants a foot into his chest. Barbas smashes through the glass and drops the distance down right onto the dance floor. Dance music is drowned out by screams as party goers flee, causing the chaos Sam was hoping for. Barbas stumbles back up right and shoots an intense expression of hatred toward the observation window of his office, but doesn't find Sam.

He doesn't possess the acute electromagnetic sense that a shark does. Being that he's easily the largest living thing in the club, he's easy to pick out. His head sways about, looking for Sam in the haze of purple neon and black walls. He only sees her outline as she flies at his face. With a single swing of her blade, she slices the orca in two, diagonally.  Sparks shower down onto the dance floor as she winds back and makes a second cut across his waist, perfectly bisecting him.

Barbas bellows out in horror as he falls apart right then and there. He's dead before his upper torso can hit the ground. With a click, Sam sheathes her weapon once more. The club is empty, now. No doubt the cops had been called. It was time to leave. With a gently leap, she clears the distance needed to jump back up into the office. She meets Benjamin, who had snuck in just as Sam put Barbas through the window.

"That was.. gruesome." He remarks as Sam begins tearing up the bookcase behind the smashed desk, looking for a safe. "I cannot say he did not deserve it. Sometimes, justice is just not pretty." During her search, she finds what appears to be a PDA or tablet computer of some kind. However, it only contains one page that appears to be a deed to this particular club.

"Hmm, Benjamin, what's this?"

He takes the tablet and examines it. "Hmmmm.. This is the club property deed. Barbas was most decadent in his ways and only the latest and greatest would suffice. His rig was top notch, though you seemed to deal with it just fine."

"Rig?

"Cybernetic gear. It's often referred to as a rig. You aren't a local I take it?"

"You could say that. Say, you want honest money?"

"Of course and, unlike you, theft from the wicked is still theft. I will not take his money as you will."

"Good, more for me. What about an investment?"

"What do you mean."

Sam wrapped her arm around the Panther and walked him to the edge of the broken glass wall. "Down there is one dead shitbag. Right? The shitbag's fingerprint information is on that tablet, I know how those work, at the very least. Have him 'sign' the club over to you and you can turn it into an honest establishment."

Benjamin pondered the prospect for just a moment "It is still dishonesty, but therein lies some greater good to be done. Ok, I'll do it."Sam smiled and patted him on his back before turning around. She notices a small briefcase on the floor next to the bookcase. Hurrying over, she picked it up and flicked it open.

Jack pot. It was filled with cash. She smiles with satisfaction before closing it and jumping down to the messy dance floor one more time. Before she can leave, Benjamin calls out one last time "Hey, stranger! What is your name?" She turns slowly to face him and, for once, smiles.

"Sam. Call me Sam."

"Ok Sam, if you ever need to hide out, know that you have a place with Benjamin, yes?"

She gave him a thumbs up before walking out the front door. The bouncer working the front door was ready for her, however. The moment she stepped out into the night, his gun jammed into the side of her skull and he pulled the trigger. His eyes were closed the moment he did, not wanting to see the mess. However, there wasn't any bang or even recoil. When he opens his eye, Sam has her hand around the gun, finger between the hammer and the firing pin, and the others gripped firmly around the slide. She tears from his grip and hurls it into the dark.

"My kill count for tonight is four. Don't make me up that to five." 

The bouncer backs away with the warning and raises his hands defensively. She smiles and winks before seeking out Cav.

Upon sliding into the car, Cav inquires "There appears to have been an emergency at the Neon Orca. Should I call the police?"

Sam buckles in and adjusts her seating before she replies "Yeah, tell 'em a male assailant walked in and cut the place up."

"Very well. Did you see who the assailant was?"

Sam laughs as she replies "Yeah, I got a good view of the culprit."

"Very good, that will be perfect for the police."

"Just tell them it was a male assailant. And drive, let's get out of here."

"That will delay the coming investigation, but very well. Where shall we go?"

"Airport. I got a flight to catch."

The drive was uneventful, not so much a cop car whizzing past on their way to the Neon Orca. She watched as lights streaked by in the night sky. It was at this point she realized she should call Ronnie. She clicks on her communications and is actually beaten to the punch.

"Sam..? SAM! SAM!? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, Ronnie, I'm fine, what's up?"

"Oh, it's on the news, there was a.. a.. something.. an incident at the Neon Orca!"

"Yeah, yeah there was. Barbas doesn't mange it anymore."

"Oh.. wait.. what do you mean?"
"He's dead, that's what I mean."

"Oh man, that guy was a shit bag! Whoever did it, did the world a favor."

"You're welcome."

"You didn't.."

"Cut him to fucking pieces. Literally."

".. are you hurt? Are you hurting."

Sam took a moment to think about that. She did suffer an immense beating and lesser rough spots in her past life would've left her sore for days. But, she felt just fine. "No, I'm A-Ok."

"Ok, your pain receptors work much like a warning light. They tell you when major damage occurs. Did he pierce you with a weapon or?"

"No, he threw me around like a rag doll though."

"Oh whew.. blunt force trauma is something your body can withstand in spades."

"My rig, you mean?"

"Picking up on the lingo, I see? Yes, your rig can take that kind of trauma in great deals. Where are you now, though?"

"On my way to the airport, I'll be back in the morning."

".. you should get some sleep."

"I will on the way over. I'm sending Cav back to you."

".. Cav?"

"Your car?"

"Awww, you renamed KITT?"

"Ronnie, you weren't even alive for that show."

".. anyways, have a good flight. Oh! One more thing. When you get back, stay low. The police here are.. well they're profiling sharks."

"What?"

"Apparently, a shark roughed up the chief's boy and now he's out for blood."

Sam sank into her seat, horrified. That could mean Erin and Denise. "Well.. If they so much as lay a finger on my kids, I'll fucking butcher them all."

"Well they'll be fine, they're not cyborgs, are they?"

"No."

"Well, good because the shark that did it was-... SAM!"

"What! What?! He was a little fuckstain that was robbing an innocent family, scaring them out of their wits. I didn't hurt him, I just cut up their rigs a little bit."

"Sam, pleeease stay low where ever you're going? In fact, why are you going?"

"Actually, you might help me out here. Find me an address, I'm guessing these car A.I.s are local only."

"Ok, who are you looking for?"

"I only know his alias. It's Riptide."

"..YOU KNEW--"

"Shh, shh shh, yeah I knew him, we were good friends. That whole playboy exterior of his was bullshit, just part of his character. Kind of. Well, he was a sweetheart. Er.... Is he still alive?"

"Yeah, so I know where you're headed.. So, Mr.-"

"DON'T.. USE.. his real name. Please. I don't want to know."

"Ok, ok, Riptide.. actually has a few residences. The guy's loaded... ok."

Sam listened in, writing down addresses as she watched the lights of jumbojets gliding in to land on the runway.

"..and the last one is 561 Pin Oak Avenue."

"Thanks Ronnie, you rule."

With that, she clicks off the communications relay on her neck just in time for the car to stop. "We have arrived, Sam."

"Thanks Cav, go home. Thanks for everything." Sam steps out and into the amber lights of the airport terminal. She paused before closing the door. Hurling the case back into the passenger seat, she decided it would be better off for everyone if she just flew coach. Hopefully, Ronnie wouldn't spend all that cash. The approach was simple enough. She went inside to check for flight schedules until she found one leaving for her destination. It was actually departing in five minutes. She slips through the terminal's maze of halls and finds herself on the tarmac next to the flight in question. When the luggage handlers aren't looking, she bolts into the cargo hold of the airplane and finds herself a nice nook to hide and nap in.

It gave her time to think as she feels the airplane leave the ground, wheels rumbling as they part from concrete. This rendezvous presented the same problem she had with her kids; how would Riptide recognize or even believe her? There was some hope here, however. After all, Riptide knew Sam back in the day. It was him who tried to encourage to turn over a new leaf and use her skills for good. Seems like he succeeded, finally. 

Minutes before touch down, Sam cuts open the cargo hatch to the airplane and drops out. She impacts on the soft grass in a nearby field. Looking around, she sees that no one has noticed. It was time to look an old friend. She unfolded the piece of paper she scribbled addresses on. As she left the park she landed in, the beaming white lights of a gas station in the midnight air drew her to it. A gas station attendant had already helped her out once, so she reasoned she had good luck with those. Entering the convenient store, she approaches the attendant and smiles. It's an older woman, an otter or a weasel. She can't tell.

"Hello, ma'am? Can you help me out?"

"What can I... I help you with" She seems to get nervous. Sam notices but brushes it off. She might not have ever seen a cyborg for all she knows.

"Yeah, do you have a map I can buy? I'm looking for some friends houses, I'm new in town" Sam smiles, trying to reassure the woman, but she doesn't seem to. She's eying the sword hilt at her hip. "OH! I am so sorry, Ma'am, I don't mean trouble, I swear! I'm just buying a map and asking for directions"

With that crisis averted, the attendant points out where they are, where her addresses were, and the nearest one. Being two for two, Sam leaves money for the attendant and a little extra for the scare. As it turns out, 561 Pin Oak was not far from where she was. It was a very rich neighborhood as she observed upon arrival. She counted off the massive houses one by one until she found 561. She stood poised in front of the nice home, working up her courage to approach. With a heavy sigh, she pushes herself to the front door. But, as she neared it, a horrific realization came to her when she spied an open window.  An intruder? A vengeance plot to kill him? She crept to the window and peered in, looking for any sign of struggle. But, there was nothing. It was neatly decorated and not so much a sign of a malice. She calmed down and realized that crime in this part of any city is nonexistent and that the occupant, hopefully Riptide, was just cooling his home. She steps inside the window and into his den. Eyes scan the darkness as she tries to look for anything to confirm who lived here. She found it when her vision centered on picture hung on the wall. It was him. Riptide accepting the key to the city in his youth. She laughed softly and commented to herself "Lookin' good, pretty boy" before turning away and continuing into the kitchen. His home was adorned with memorabilia from the glory days which she dwelt upon, one by one.

"Who's there!?" His voice, though worn from the ravages of time, is still very recognizable. That terror filled her once more. Her past was coming back and she froze in utter fear. She wanted to run and embrace her old friend, but she knew that was just out of the question. This time, she had no where to run and hide like she did with Erin and Denise. She stood, silhouetted, in the darkness and only slowly turning to meet a face she hadn't seen in a very long time. She swallowed hard and trembled. Truthfully, she wanted to cry again, but suppressed that urge by telling herself 'This is a chance no one else has ever gotten. You've already tucked tail once, it's time to not shape up!' She didn't see the need to speak up and greet him; he'd find her soon enough.

Her heart rate skyrocketed the moment she say his outline in the dark, holding a bat and carefully pacing closer. "You there! Don't move an inch. What are you doing here? Thinkin' you can rob an old man just cause he likes a summer breeze? Or are you here with a more sinister goal? Hmm? Jig's up."

Sam replies weakly "No, I'm not here to.. to rob you." It's the best she can muster as she trembles in her confusion, experiencing terror and sorrow along side joy and elation.

"Then what are you here for?! Speak up when I address you!" He snarls, letting it be known that even if he is past his prime that he is still not one to roll over.

"I.. Riptide.." she stammers out, causing him to freeze in place.

".. who are you?" His arm reaches for a light switch and Sam stares on, horrified.

"No! Don't.." she gets out before the white glow of the kitchen lights cast their illumination onto the pair. 

The passage of time had been merciful to Riptide. His skin is creased and stretched, his hair clearly gray at the roots. He's clad only in a robe and slippers as his fists clench the metal bat. His eyes examine the intruder, furrowed with anger until he starts recognizing features and familiarity within the thief's appearance. He shakes it off at first, but keeps coming back to it. Her hair color and short length, her brilliant blue eyes, her familiar spotted, and her voice. "What.. the.." he exclaims weakly before dropping the bat onto the carpet and gripping his chest. He flushes a little pale, having seen a ghost, after all. Stumbling backward, Sam rushes to his aid, whisking him to a plush seat in the den before she sits on the adjacent couch and smiles with nervous excitement.

"H..hi, Riptide." She greets with a weak voice.

"No.. no, this is impossible. This is a dream. Or a nightmare." His arm extends and points at her. What he proclaims stings deep "You're dead!" She was, for all intents and purposes. It only served to remind her that her daughters knew she was dead and that was that. There wasn't any way to convince them otherwise that she could think of.

He response comes with a frail voice as she chokes back tears. "Yes.. I am. I was. But, I'm back, I guess."

"This is crazy. I'm going crazy. Who the fuck are you? Some assassin kook that used plastic surgery to get near to me? That's cowardly. Especially using the visage of a good friend, like Sam. You should be ashamed!"

His words hurt worse than Barbas' blows. She was at a loss for words as she choked out noises, trying to find her voice. It was then that Riptide noticed a few things about the shark that sat near him. Her leg bounced up and down as she fidgeted, just how Sam used to when she was upset. Her voice was a perfect match for Sam's, and even how she sat. Sam was anything but feminine and sat accordingly with a more masculine attitude about her. It was then that Sam stood up and found her words "I'm sorry, Riptide. I'll leave. I know where I'm not wanted and I can understand.. why." She struggled to get the last word out without melting down into a mess of tears. She prides herself on her strength, but for once she felt very, very weak and without any port in the storm emotions. She was alone.

But, Riptide wasn't satisfied. He gripped her pant leg and stopped her in her tracks. He looked up at her and pointed his finger accusingly to her. "The Sin City raid.. How did you contact me?" He asks with a tone of anxiety behind his voice.

"I.. walked into the casino you were at and.. shot a few rounds into the ceiling." Sam replied as she bobbed her head, as if to force the answer past her lips.

"Why did you even want to do those?"

"A crime family was running a.. slavery ring and that sort of evil should not be suffered."

Riptide smirked a little as he asked the next question with that cocksure attitude he was famous for. "How did I save you from that utility room?"

Sam whipped her head down to look Riptide right in the eye, clearly annoyed "Bullshit, I saved your ass!"

Riptides face lit up as he jumped to his feet and clasped his hands around Sam's cheeks, squeezing them inward. She was confused as he looked her over before laughing out "It is! Sam! It really is you, how is that possible?!" His arms pull her into a hug, squeezing her face to his chest. She was confused unable to make sense of what just happened at first, but then realized that her old friend recognized her finally. She returns the tight hug with a laugh. "Holy hell, how is it possible!? You died, I got the letter..  I still have it, I think.. you really are the most stubborn bitch to ever live. Not even death.. not even death!" he laughs, waving his finger at her. "Am I dead? Did I pass on in MY sleep, too..?"

"No... not unless angels are cyborgs, now."