Andy poured herself a slight glass of wine, looking over the mail that had piled up while she was on suspension. She heard a knock at the door and went to twist the knob. And of course, none other than Sam Swarek thrusting the end of an oar through her door. She let him in after taking the oar off his hands.
"Hey, your stuff was in my truck, I threw it in there after the accident and I didn't know if you needed something for tomorrow, so," Sam swiftly explained and began towards the door.
"Sam, just please stay, please stay. Look, Sam, don't." Andy begged, putting a hand on his chest. "Just hear me out. I'm sorry, I know I said yes. I meant yes. Look, I- I thought about you everyday, I missed you every single day. I don't know if what I did was the right thing, b-but I did it. C'mon, we finally have the chance to start over, not even start over but to start," Andy replied.
"Kay," Sam said, and started walking towards Andy's couch. He plopped himself down as Andy softly sat and placed the oar leaning on the couch. Sam started tapping his fingers on his thighs, trying to make Andy squirm. She was away from him for three months, she refused to be bothered.
"So how do we start?" He asked, not looking at her. She turned sharply to stare at the phenomenon that was her Sam. He lifted his eyebrows, shifted his jaw, and looked straight at her. They both sat there, shifting their eyes from each other's lips to their eyes. Andy finally gave in and Sam twisted his body to match hers, their lips softly meeting in the middle. Their kiss lingered for a few seconds until Sam finally placed his fingertips on her waist, then his palms, then allowing the rest of his body to give in to the hunger that he had contained for so long. She swiftly placed her leg around his, pushing him into the couch cushions as she went. She gripped his face, deepening the kiss. Sam's hands slowly moved to the hem of Andy's thin tank, beginning to pull it up and sliding his fingers over the small of her back.
I will definitely not be the only one without a shirt on here. Andy thought, tugging at the area where his shirt met his belt. Sam sat up, giving her a clear shot at taking his shirt off. He picked her up, hands on her ass as he walked towards her bedroom. Andy's phone began to sound her corny "Kim Possible" ringtone. She made a mental note to change it before ever surrounding herself with Sam Swarek again.
"You need to get that?" Sam sarcastically asked, right as he was awkwardly sliding Andy's flannel pants off of her tanned, toned legs.
"I won't know unless I go look at it," she retorted. He swiftly slid her off of his body until her toes touched the floor. He quickly grabbed his shirt, turning it right- side out and pulled it over his head.
"Sam, stop, Sam, I was kidding," Andy pleaded with him. Of course he wanted to stay with her the entire night, the love of his life standing there in her underwear.
"Who's that? Callaghan? What's he need you for, now? Is he the one bound with duct tape this time?" He knew he shouldn't have said it the moment it came out of his mouth. He was, of course, referring to the day that McNally was tied up in a storage locker while working on the Zoe Martinelli case. Callaghan, of course, came to the rescue, arresting Nixon on the scene and rescuing Andy from certain rape or worse. This was the same time that Andy found out about Detective Jo Rosati sleeping with her fiancée. And Sam saw right through the walls that she thought she had built up for her fellow officers.
"I-I," Andy stuttered, not even knowing how to respond.
"Yeah, you. That's the problem here, McNally." Sam spat back at her, knowing that her resolve, whatever it was, had been broken. Andy grabbed his wrist, looking into his eyes but him not looking at her. He seemed to have a sudden fascination with the hardwood floors. She held up her phone for his eyes to look at. The caller i.d read "Trace."
Ah, crap. I'm in trouble now. Sam thought.
Andy took a deep breath before speaking. "You need to make up your mind. Because you know I've made up mine." Andy said with acid in her voice.
"Andy," Sam softly spoke, Andy hearing the apology already in his tone.
"No, Sam. Don't apologize. Just decide." Andy started walking to get her shirt and retrieve her pants from the floor. Sam decided that he'd pick both of them up before she had a chance.
"Sam, give me my clothes." Andy firmly said.
"Frankly, you look better with no clothes on," Sam let slip out, knowing he shouldn't have said that either. Andy was the stand- up- for- women's- rights kind of person. Andy lunged for her clothes, knowing that there was no use.
"Sam. I'm serious, give me my clothes." Andy held out her open palm.
"No," Sam shortly responded.
"Fine," Andy replied and started walking towards her bedroom, clearly thinking that she'd outsmart Sam Swarek. He threw the clothes on her couch, rushing after her and grabbed her wrist, spinning her towards him and quickly placing his other arm around her so she couldn't escape. This all happened before Andy even realized that someone had touched her at all. Predictably, she started squirming, thinking that she could escape his grasp. He smirked at her, knowing that she was going to give up soon enough. She placed her hands on his chest, trying to push her body away from his.
"Sam, let me go," Andy started screaming, tears streaming down her face. She had been too strong for too long, and the fact that the love of her life was playing games with her? That was just too much for her to handle.
"Andy, what's going on?" Sam asked, his face full of concern.
"You're hurting me," she squeezed out. He hadn't realized how tight he was holding her until he processed her words. He released Andy quickly. She was tough, normally she could handle anything. Before he knew it, she had her tank top on before her pants. As a cop, you naturally put your pants on before the shirt has to be tucked in. Her elbows didn't leave her side.
"Andy, what's wrong?" Sam asked.
"I'm fine. Just go," Andy asked of him.
"Andy, look at me," He slowly walked towards her, knowing how fragile she was right now. He lifted a hand to wipe the tears that had fallen. Andy started to back away, remembering how he had just touched her. Sam followed her movements. His left hand swiftly lifted up her tank top, revealing an entirely too purple torso that was puffier than her sides had ever been.
"Oh Andy," Sam sighed as she yanked the top right back down. He hadn't noticed those bruises when they were on the couch. "What'd you do to yourself?" He asked more to himself than directing it at her.
"I fell." She clearly stated, not meeting his eyes.
"No you didn't. The Andy McNally I know doesn't fall. Except for guys that aren't good enough for her," Sam noted, knowing that he fell into that category.
"Sam, really, I'm fine. Just please go," Andy pleaded with him, still backing away from him.
"Andy, you know I'm not going anywhere," Sam softly spoke. Andy stopped dead in her tracks while Sam kept moving towards her. He finally was close enough to her, but her arms were crossed over her breasts. Sam slowly placed his arms over her shoulders and around her neck.
