Happy Birthday, Peter Pan
By the time Sam and Michael made it to Carlitos little Sammy's good mood had disappeared; he screamed and wailed when Sam plucked him from his car seat. Rocking and bouncing the baby, he followed Michael into the restaurant, and every patron followed their progress inside.
"Lucy," Michael shouted to be heard over the din, "you remember Sam. And Sam's son."
Lucy wrinkled her nose and glanced across the table. "I can hear the family resemblance," she said. "Hi, Sam."
"Hey, Luce." Sam bounced his son in his arms, but the baby was inconsolable.
"So, what's the problem?" Lucy shouted. "Is it...."
"It's not our problem - it's Sam's." Michael glanced at his friend. "Maybe you should take him into the men's room..."
But Sam was distracted. "I don't get it! I just changed him, I gave him a bottle of the formula he likes..." Sammy thudded his little fist against Sam's chest in discontent.
"Maybe the sound of your voice," Fiona smirked, sipping her blueberry smoothie.
A sly look crossed Sam's face. "Hey, you're a woman..." Fi's nose wrinkled at Sam's insinuation, "babies like something soft to cuddle up to..."
"You're thinking of your Navy buddies...Sam!" He managed to plop Sammy into Fiona's arms before she could protest. Fi glanced down at the baby and gave him a wry look. "Well..."
Sammy took one look at Fi, screwed up his face and wailed.
"Sam," Fiona glared.
"Can't blame me for trying," Sam replied, reaching for the baby. Fi reached out to hand the wailing baby back to Sam, who shook his head. "Pass him to Mikey," he suggested.
Michael shook his head. "I don't think I should..." But the second Sammy was deposited in Michael's arms, the baby stopped crying. Awkwardly, he smiled and let the baby wrap his fingers around his.
"You're a natural, Mike," Sam declared. "One naughty French maid, Anita!" Sam shouted.
"Could we please get on with this?" Fiona asked. "I have a client meeting at four."
"You're booking clients without us?" Michael wondered.
"One of my grenade dealers is in trouble with his wife," she shrugged. "It's a surveillance detail, you'd be bored. And I think we should stop boring Lucy with our little soap opera and get down to the details."
Sam watched his son contentedly play with Michael's shirt buttons. "Have you ever heard of a guy named Graystone?"
Lucy rose a brow. "Graystone?"
'
"Just Graystone. He works in tech ops on the Ivory Coast, but he used to be a petty arms runner," Sam replied. "He's been trying to get rid of all the links to his dirty past, and I'm one of them."
"How dire is this?"
Sam glanced down at his hands. "We think he killed Ms....Sammy's mother."
"I'm sorry." Lucy replied quietly. "I've got some contacts in Africa that I'd be glad to ask for you. "
"He's been threatening Sam recently, and it seems to tie into some dealings with some Tunisians," Michael said.
"We're trying to figure out what he'd be doing with a shipment of medium-grade Tuniasian explosives," Fiona explained.
"I'll do what I can to help," promised Lucy. "As soon as we eat!"
"Sounds great to me," Sam declared. "Anyone else want a burger?"
Michael glanced at Sammy. "You expect me to keep holding this baby?"
Sam grinned. "Only until he graduates college."