Hey guys! This little scenario came to me during my chemistry exam...and I had to pounce on it before it slipped away, but it's a bit darker and depressing than what I normally write.

Anyways, as always please tell me what you think! Hope you all enjoy! xx

Sam Swarek did not love his wife.

Twenty years of marriage had taken a toll on him, crushing him with the weight of a loveless relationship. He had chased her out of spite, dated her out of revenge, and married her out of contempt.

No, he did not love his wife at all. When he kissed her, he tasted a different pair of lips. When he held her, he imagined it was a different person in his arms. When he looked at her, he saw another person. The exchange of wedding vows so many years ago had been difficult for him, his mind refusing to compute the right name into words.

He loved his children, he truly did, but he couldn't bear looking at them, as their resemblance to their mother was too great. Somehow they had inherited her red hair and green eyes, though those traits were supposed to be recessive.

Sometimes he would drink himself senseless and find himself standing on the pier, eyes closed, his silent pleas to God drifting across the water.

Just one more time. I just want to see her one more time.

The last time he had seen the one he loved had been at her wedding. He had dutifully went as any good partner would, watched her smile as the blond man had slipped the ring on her finger. That night, he had carefully taken apart his gun and hadn't put it back together in fear of what he might do.

His wife tried hard to make him happy. He knew that she tried hard to make him love her. But he knew that he could never give her his heart, because his heart had been taken away from him that fateful night of his partner's wedding.

His wife was not what he wanted. She was not what he loved.

Just one more time. I just want to see her one more time. I just want to see my Andy one more time.

And now, fate had pulled a cruel trick on him and granted him the one thing he so desperately prayed for every night. Oh yes, he was seeing her beautiful face, but her eyes were closed, her hands were folded over her chest, and she was laying down. In a coffin. Dead.

He had never told her. He had never told her that it was she who was supposed to be Mrs. Swarek.

And now it was too late. A shovelful of dirt flew in the air, the brown earth separating into individual particles that seemed to fall in slow motion down towards Andy's face. Down...down...down...

Sam's eyes flew open in panic. He bolted upright, covered in a thin sheen of nervous sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked down at his trembling hands, squeezing them into fists. He rocked back and forth in the bed, the sheets tangling between his legs as he tried to calm himself down.

It was just a dream. Just a dream, nothing more. It wasn't real.

"Sam, what's wrong?" The voice floated to his ears, the familiar cadence of speech a comforting sound.

"Nothing, darling, go back to sleep," he murmured, looking over at the body lying next to him. He checked to make sure it was his brown-eyed beauty, not some imagined red-headed wife from hell.

He let out a shaky sigh of relief at the beautiful features that met his eyes, his heartbeat returning back to normal. He laid back down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. She sighed contentedly, pressing her back against his chest. He gently kissed her bare collarbone, simply reveling in her soft skin. Minutes passed, with slow breathing indicating her slipping back into the sleep which seemed to elude him.

"Andy?" he whispered.

"Hmm?" she murmured sleepily.

"Will you marry me?"

"Okay."

He smiled at her half-conscious acceptance of his proposal. He would ask her properly tomorrow, but her simple 'okay' was what he had needed to hear just then.

He closed his eyes, settling into sleep himself, his arms tightly wrapped around her. Around his Andy McNally.

Because she was what he wanted. She was what he loved.