How are you feeling?

Who: Jakob and Sam
Where: Sam's apartment
When: Morning

Besides a swollen face and various other injuries she refused to think of, the only other outward appearance that something was wrong was the two bodyguards outside of her door, several guns concealed on their person. Sam had met them before. They'd been regular staples multiple times as she was growing up, and despite the fact that she was feeling aggressive, she found some comfort in the fact that they were there to protect her.

Marcelena had finally left about half an hour ago to head to the bakery and stock up on Sam's favorite pastries, disapproving of the plate of warmed up cheese fries that Jakob had actually picked up for her last night. Had it really been last night? IT felt like years ago. So many things had happened in such a small period of time.

Something was up though. Her mother was speaking in rapid fire italian in the living room while she pretended to sleep. She knew that Johnny Tang was the walking dead and Sam felt a wave of disappointed that she would not be the one to take him out. Retribution. Nothing more fierce than a woman scored. All that stuff.

Some cops complained that it was difficult to stop the job, to turn off the eye for suspicious elements. Jakob Hollis was not one of those cops. He thrived on that, in fact, fed from it every time a new shred of chaos showed itself. He loved to see his city in the throes of revealing its' filth. Today? He was being rewarded.

He'd called in sick to the station, feigning more pains in his shoulder than were really there, with every intention of checking up on Sam before tending to more matters for Eris. And he'd surprised himself, too, with how many little cares he was taking. Food from Nighthawk's and two coffees balanced precariously on a cardboard carrier made up his parcels this particular day, and he'd nearly breezed right into the front door before he noticed the cars parked out front.

Black hard-bodied vehicles, spacious, clean, new... and with what he'd learned of his partner's family? It wasn't a leap of the imagination to guess that the Giacomos were drawing in to protect their kin. So Jakob had turned away from the front door, moving instead for a pay phone up the block and dialing Sam's number quickly.

The ringing of the phone sent the door slamming open, two hulking men with guns drawn. "It's just the phone," she said patiently, turning her back on them and picking up the receiver. "Tyler," she answered. It couldn't possibly be her mother. Her family would've come down themselves instead of calling.

"Samantha," Jakob greeted as he lingered on the streets, precariously shifting the balance of his coffees and food in his free hand, "How are you feeling?" She sounded better already, though he'd expected the tears to pass. Not because her assault hadn't mattered, no. It was just the fact that Sam Tyler seemed made of sterner stuff. She was a homicide detective, spending her days looking at grisly things that would unnerve most men.

"Eh. Wish I had a punching bag and more than just a radio with dramatic mystery shows," she told him. If she could, Sam would've gone to work but there'd be questions and she didn't want to deal with that. "Instead I've got Ma saying I can't feed myself. You?"

He chuckled into the phone, cradling it between ear and shoulder so that he could pluck a coffee from the carrying tray. "I'm well," Jakob answered at length, slurping his coffee, "Though my arm is growing weary. I... I'm outside of your building, Sam, I was hoping to stop in and see how you were doing. Should I worry about clearing hurdles if I come inside?" he asked, delicately trying to infer that he expected trouble.

"They're my bitches. They'll do what I say. Come on up." Sam hung up the phone and pulled on a jacket over the dress she was wearing. Pants... were not currently in the picture. So while her poor partner was heading upstairs, Sam opened the door and smiled sweetly to the guards. "I have my friend who helped me out last night coming upstairs. His name is Jakob Hollis. I promise he's not going to cause trouble." They both looked at her blankly and then turned their heads and Sam took that as a confirmation that her orders were to be respected.

The time she'd spent dressing panned out well, nearly lining up with Jakob's arrival as he stepped from the elevator. He aimed a glance down each end of the hall, spotting not just the two men on Sam's door, but a third who glimpsed briefly through the glass set in the stairwell door. Impressive, he mused as he moved for Sam's apartment, giving her two guards a slight grin. "Gentlemen," Jakob greeted, earning a snort from one of the guards as he reached back and twisted the doorknob.

Stepping into the apartment, Jakob kicked a foot out lightly to push the door shut, ignoring whatever muttered joke at his expense the two were sharing. "Sam?" he called, "I do hope you're not sick of Nighthawk's burgers yet."

Sam grinned at seeing the take out container, ignoring the coffee and came over, grabbing it eagerly. "Never," she confirmed. "Thanks. I appreciate it. I hope the boys didn't give you too much trouble?" They'd been around since she was a kid after all. She considered asking him if he'd seen any other guards, knowing that if anyone could spot them, he could. Instead, she looked at the two cups of coffee. "One of those for me or are you panning on extra caffeinating today?"

Jakob gave up the bag with their take-out easily. "One is for you," he confirmed, "If I drank both, I'd have pretense to call into work again tomorrow. And two days away? I believe our stack of back files may dwarf us both."

He stepped back with the remaining coffee balanced before plucking it free and taking a swallow. "So... the boys? I'm going to guess they weren't a premium for signing your lease early."

"Of course they were. Fancy digs like this has to have some perks," she said with a grin, wincing a bit as it stretched and pulled at the swelling around her eye. She wondered if he'd figured anything out but said nothing about it. It was not information she went around talking about, Jakob being her partner or not. "Can I get you anything? Toast? Bagels? Produce that I need to start eating."

Shaking his head and grinning, Jakob waggled his coffee in his hand loosely. "I am a perpetual bachelor," he joked, "Self-sufficient at all times." Walking a few aimless steps to the wall, Jakob leaned against it and looked down at his shoes, feigning uncertainty for a moment before he looked back to Sam. "When were you going to tell me?" he asked quietly, "About your kin, that is."

"I'm sure you can understand why someone would not advertise their connections," she replied without any hesitation. Without any surprise. "C'mon, Jakob. You're a smart man. What do you think would've gone on if I entered the force advertising who my family is." She took a careful sip of her coffee and deemed it satisfactory.

His lips pursed in consideration for a moment as Jakob mulled over Sam's question, nursing his own coffee. "You would have been scrutinized endlessly," he mused, "Suspected, watched for errors, blamed for leaks. You also would have the utmost satisfaction at proving the skills I know you possess." Shrugging, Jakob aimed a small grin Sam's way from where he leaned. "So I cannot say I blame you, I suppose. It's quite the headache to endure, simply for bragging rights. I'll simply pretend you would've told me soon."

Headache. Oh, if only you knew. "I think by now or tomorrow, Vice'll pick up on what's going on., I forsee attempts at blackmail and me having to kick some serious ass." Another grin, even though it was painful. She appreciated Jakob's understanding. The man was smart. Bragging rights. Yes, it was no surprise that he would pointed that out and she assumed his implications meant that if he were in her position, he'd more than likely have set up a banner above his desk. She said nothing for a little bit, contemplating the implications of what she was about to say. "I hope that no one finds him."

That drew a surprised look from Jakob, eyebrows angling in as he frowned slightly. He'd assumed that she hadn't put the hit out on Johnny herself, but who knew? Did she want Johnny alive? Did she want his remains to vanish? "I believe that you and Arun Tang are the only two people in this city wishing so," he observed, "Word from my snitches says that there's a considerable amount of money to be made by finding him."

"S'cause I'm great like that," she said and reached over to the block and slowly drew out the butcher's knife, looking at the sharp blade glinting under the lights. "I pitied him. I still do. Tried to warn him what he was getting himself into." And then she stabbed the knife into one of the apples in the fruit bowl and started slicing it. "I pitied him so much that I actually co-operated for the most part. 'One fine day in the middle of the night, one little boy tried to fight'." A bastardize version of Poe, but she felt it was appropriate.

Small mercy that I didn't kill him, then, Jakob mused, watching Sam with the knife. "Pity the untrained dog, but do not let it run wild," he replied evenly, "Arun Tang is a cancer on this city, but I admit, I agree. It would be better to tie him to some of our cases in Chinatown, to see him stand trial." Or to use him for ulterior goals, like Jakob intended. Oh yes, Johnny Tang had a purpose in life, just not one of his own choosing.

However Sam's thoughts were not on how the chink fucker would be useful. Not about what purpose he could serve. No. No, she was rather fond of something else. "Did you hear? Aaron Black is dead. That supposed corpse we found?" He brought up Chinatown after all.

"Mm, the... acquaintance of yours," Jakob noted, frowning in displeasure, "Frankly, I was surprised that he was alive when we found him. Such injuries..." He sighed, pacing away from the wall and slowly rolling his bad shoulder with a wince. "One more case into the unsolved file, I suppose. No witness, not that he was cooperative while he was alive." It sounded cold, and it was, but it was also practical. Jakob hadn't known the man, had been revulsed by what little he'd seen, and otherwise? Aaron Black had held no value to him.

"No, he was a creepy kind of bastard," she agreed. He was just a one night stand. It actually had been unsettling enough that she wasn't planning on interacting with him any time in the future. Not that it was a problem any more. "Lotus are loyal to one another, but really, it only takes one keystone to bring everything down, doesn't it?"

Jakob nodded astutely, still pacing little circles around the space just past Sam's door. "It does, but the trick of it all is finding evidence you can tie to the keystone. Not to mention a witness who can corroborate. Maybe not another Lotus, but someone who could verify it." In Chinatown? That was impossible. Witnesses to crimes could only identify their attackers, and their attackers would be dead the moment they tried to testify. "Are you thinking that the Tang boy could be used against his seniors?" he asked, a glint of amusement flickering to life in his eyes.

Sam shrugged, the sound of the knife cutting through apple perhaps similar to the sawing through fingers. "He thinks he can't be touched," she said, recalling the embarrassment of the interview the other day. "His ego is the size of the hemisphere but he needs three guys with guns to go after one person. I'm sure with the right... persuasion he can be made to bring down a large part of those Russian bastards."

That would work against Jakob's intentions, no doubt about it. Of course, that would also assume that Tang survived Jakob's intentions, and if he did? Sure, they could use him to clean up the remnants of the Konoviches. "His file and your own input make him sound a coward," he said, "A man like that will promise anything he can to save himself, which could be promising? But could be deceptive, too." Wandering closer, Jakob kept his voice low as he eyed Sam intently. "If we found him? If we found him, Sam, could you keep your family from damaging our work?"

Sam did not answer him immediately, slicing the apple into even smaller pieces. Her family... her family was furious. She'd never seen them so angry in her entirely life. But she wasn't a member, not at all. "I can't order my family to do anything." She looked at him then, stabbing her knife into the cutting board. "Besides, they're not who Tang should be worried about."

"Should he be worried over you, then?" Jakob asked of her directly, arms folding across his chest and keeping his coffee in range of his lips. "I don't think I could understand what happened to you, Sam. I wouldn't insult you by pretending I could. But I've seen where vendettas lead, and it's nowhere good."

He sighed quietly, moving into the kitchen and stepping to the counter's edge near the cutting board. "Patrolman McKinnon, who worked the serial murders with me, was dragged low by his score to settle. I would spare you that same fate if I could, there's only so many tricks up my sleeve on any given day," he explained, smiling concernedly to her.

"Oh, so now you admit you have tricks up your sleeve?" For some reason that didn't surprise her. No, not as much as maybe it should have. "Are you a good witch or a bad witch, Jakob?" She gave him a look, both amused and curious just the same. "Besides, from what I heard, McKinnon is fond of getting himself drunk all the time, but that could just be rumors." She didn't really know him at all, had only seen of him in passing but there were always people who liked to gossip and talk about the scandals going on.

"I'd said before that I was no saint," Jakob reminded her, grinning a touch, "And I prefer to think of myself as a man of mystery, not a witch. Leaving people to question the unknown is never a bad choice, I've found." He gave a crestfallen expression, shaking his head as Sam recounted what was known about Danny. "McKinnon's war with his thirst is the least of his undertakings, I believe. And while I did what I could to help him, it was a delicate undertaking. All I ask of you is to consider what might come in days ahead. A vendetta that is ended is a fleeting satisfaction, Sam, and you deserve better."

Sam shrugged. It was nice that Jakob seemed to care but, "It's a nice sentiment and I'm sure you mean well, but I can take care of myself, regardless." She gave him a tight smile, as anything wider would hurt. "I'm pretty happy with my life, the person that I am. I don't need another mother." Who would, in fact, probably show up soon.

Jakob laughed quietly, nodding his head in understanding. "And I'd be a sad excuse for one, I'm sure. But I understand, just have patience with me in the moments when I'm trying to look out for you. I'll do my best to keep them few and far between." At least the ones she knew about. She might've had the whole Giacomo family to watch her, but they had a distinct lack of subtlety, and the idea of working around them sounded like a fun one. A challenge. "I assume I'll be without a partner just long enough to grow used to it again?" he asked, winking teasingly at Sam, "And then we can replay our first, fumbling encounter from the beginning in... perhaps a week's time?" It'd likely be that long before the damage to her face was healed, he guessed.

"Awww, you're gonna miss me," she teased back. "Yeah, you're life is going to be unexciting for awhile. I hope you cope alright. No shock treatments at Bedlam to cure you of inconsolable depression." Although she really couldn't see him inconsolable. The man was like a rock most of the time. "I'll bring the coffee and you bring that 'I'm too occupied by fascinating folders in front of me' attitude, but promise you'll bring over any interesting cases so I can look at them?"

"You want me to promise to violate protocol?" Jakob asked, eyes flashing with mirth for a moment, "On that count, believe I will." He'd realized the night before, while tormenting Johnny and his men, that Sam had become nearly the only recurring face in his life. Sure, he dealt with the same people every day, but they were pointless. His perps? Momentary distractions. Even Eris Stockard and her silly little crusade were an obligation, a challenge to amuse him.

Sam Tyler, though, was someone who offered him no gain through his usual manipulations, yet didn't bore him either. So while Jakob would sooner shoot himself in the leg than use the word 'miss', some part of him was going to notice her absence enough to guarantee another visit. "If I bring you a particularly strange case, will there be biscotti when you return?"

And Sam would miss their routine as well. He treated her with respect that she hadn't gotten in awhile. He was smart and he liked to show it, but it wasn't in a way that she felt inferior. He was the more experienced detective and he'd already taught him a lot and, well, she hoped that she could make him proud. Not only for herself, but she wanted to show him that his help had been, well, helpful.

"Hmmm, I think I can do that. We'll see what else I can come up with. But for now, I don't have food but I do have something I think you'll appreciate." She nodded her head over to her desk, a bookshelf packed with various texts on psychology and the criminal mind. Manuals on the human body and other medical books. Things that a homicide detective would benefit from. "If you see anything you're interested, you're more than welcome to borrow." As she spoke, she ran through the books on the second shelf before pulling out a hardback text. "Have you ever heard of H.H. Holmes?" While everyone had heard of Jack the Ripper, H.H. was quite awhile before them.

He couldn't quite hide a spark in his eyes as Jakob nodded and smiled, moving closer to examine the book shelf. "I read through newspaper archives on him early into my career," he explained, "Him and Albert Fish alike, actually. I'd hoped to land a spot in homicide when I passed the detective's exam, you see." Not if, when. "And a man who would climb mountains must understand their peaks." Really, that research had only cemented Jakob's goals; the minds of such men were fascinating by implication alone, and he'd decided long ago to understand them, to surpass their prowess. "But the offer is appreciated," he went on, dancing fingertips along the books and slipping one free on post-mortem pathology.

"Albert Fish was a pedophile and a cannibal. Holmes merely enjoyed torture methods and how people worked. How they died. Trust me, the archives don't have even half as much as you'll find in this thing. And considering what had happened to Moira O'Malley... well, maybe it's time to brush up on your history." Holmes had been her reason for joining, thinking of children being locked in trunks while chlorine gas was pumped in for someone's sick amusement. She noted the book he'd picked up. "Chapter 10, page 283 has a great description on working with undetermined bodies." Eidolin City's corpses were pretty much straight forward. Sometimes it took awhile, but it seemed that many of the killers in this city liked to leave a mark of their handiwork.

"Ah, but Holmes also more than quadrupled Fish's work, if you believe his confession," Jakob argued, "And Fish? Well, the man suffered mental impairments left and right, for him to evade notice for as long as he did suggests a keen intellect, at least on a base level." He flipped the book open, fingers skimming the pages in search of what Sam had suggested, and when Jakob found the particular page, he began to read over it curiously. "But we're splitting hairs, I believe. As the religious love to form hierarchies of Heaven, I suppose we may want to categorize our demons here on Earth. The book is appreciated, though. I'll make sure it's returned promptly."

"Take your time. Got that thing memorized." She was serious about that. Sam really did have that book and a few others memorized. The ones she cared about anyway. The curse of a eidetic memory. "Anything else catches your interest, feel free to grab it. It never hurts to learn more or refresh yourself on the enemy, so to speak. I believe a Chinese philosopher said it best What the ancients called a clever fighter is one who not only wins, but excels in winning with ease," Sam quoted.

Lips pursed thin in consideration of the quote, Jakob smiled eventually, thinking the Chinese would've loved him. "I doubt that quibbling on philosophy would speed your recuperation, else I'd entertain the idea," he said, "Would you like company while you eat? Or should I take my leave?" He didn't exactly want to be here if her family stopped by to check in, after all. That would make things awkward beyond belief.

"Yeah, you better go. My mother will be back soon and it would be best if you weren't here for that." She laughed a little bit, putting another book away. "Thanks for stopping by, Jakob. I appreciate it. I really do."

"All you need to do is give a call if you'd like company again," Jakob reminded her, tucking the book Sam had given him under his good arm, "If I'm not at the station, they have my home phone as well. Which, I suppose I should point out, is only two blocks down Fontaine Avenue from here... neighbor." He chuckled dryly, taking a few idle steps towards the door. "It's good to see you're healing, Sam. Let's get together before your return, yes?" he said, moving to the door, "And take care."

Jakob lived nearby? That was... unexpected, but Sam didn't comment on it. "Yeah, that'd be good. I'll be crawling the walls in a couple days and could use a distraction." She headed to the door first, undoing the lock and opening it for him. "Thanks for the food again."

"No thanks needed," Jakob said easily, waving away her words as he breezed out the door, smiling to the men standing guard at each side. "Gentlemen," he said to them plainly, walking right past and down the hall, hands tucking into his pockets as Jakob hummed to himself pleasantly. A day off, just what the doctor ordered.