Lots of smutty smut coming up ahead, so please don't read if you aren't old enough or mature enough to deal with that. Also I get a little sappy at the end, so please be kind!
Rookie Blue isn't mine, I just wish it was.
Please read and review.
I guess it's pretty obvious which episode this follows. It's my own little personal fantasy as to how it should've ended.
"Just get in your truck and go," she says. She'd give anything to make him turn around, to change his mind, to see how wrong this all is. The wrong reaction to something that never should've happened. But she's too tough, too hard around the edges, too strong to go to him in tears. She loves him, doesn't even know if he ever has loved her. So, she goes home, walks in the rain. It's so damn cold and wet and horrible outside, perfect weather to match the mood. Curses him for the bastard he is being. She can't truly say he is a bastard, he's just doing an awfully good job of acting like one.
Home, after a slow thirty minute walk that normally takes no more than fifteen. It's a slow climb up the communal stairs into the tidy flat that's all hers. If she weren't so tired, so cold, so weakened from the walk and the painful emotions of the evening, she'd go around and collect all his stuff, put it in a box, and just leave it at his locker when they're back at work. Some bits of clothing, toothbrush, shaving stuff, manly smelling shower gel, a novel he was reading in the evenings when they'd go to bed and have a few minutes of quiet time before sleep. It isn't much but it hurts to look at every single bit of it. She takes a long, very hot shower in order to warm back up and then dries off and puts on flannel pyjama bottoms, a flannel top, and an oversized hoodie from Uni over top.
She starts to warm up once in bed, under the feather duvet. Tries to go to sleep, but can't. Her mind won't shut off, it's a whirl of images, memories, good and bad, bright and dark, so much. Sleep doesn't claim her until nearly one a.m., thankful that she has the next four days off. It does hit her, though, as she's falling asleep, why she even has these days off. They were supposed to have that time together, just to hang around, sleep late, cuddle, make love. She was even planning on going to the animal shelter during the time off, maybe adopt a kitten. She resolves at least to do this much, it's a plan.
After a fitful night of sleep, she wakes up, manages a little bit of cereal, gets dressed, and heads over to the municipal shelter. The kittens are all ridiculously cute, she feels she cannot choose. She walks around to see all the others and comes across a full grown cat. The cat is orange and tabby striped with a white chest and belly, strangely enough it's a female. A very rare cat, orange cats are nearly always male just like calicos are almost all female. Apparently this one belonged to someone, but they didn't care to keep her. The cat simply goes by Orange. She decides this is the one. It's hard for grown cats to get adopted, so it's a good thing to do. She and Miss Orange (as she calls her right away) bond quickly.
It's a bit of an armload carrying the cat carrier and a backpack full of cat food, litter, a litter tray, toys, and the like. Miss Orange is well behaved, she curls up in the back of the crate and falls right to sleep, even on the bus and Underground. The two get home, and they settle quickly. It's pretty clear that Miss Orange is an incredibly affectionate cat, she spends all evening snoozing on Andy's lap. Andy goes online to order some Thai, though much to her irritation it's a minimum ten dollar order so she has to get enough for two or they won't deliver. She scoffs in annoyance but figures some leftovers will be nice tomorrow.
Ten minutes later the buzzer down at the street rings. She presses the unlock button for the delivery driver, think that was awfully quick. But it's not curry and noodles at the door. It's him. Sam. Goddammit she thinks. Then she says it out loud, asks him what in the hell he's doing here, making no move to let him in. "I just wanted to talk to you, check on you." "Well clearly you can see I'm alright," she tells him, making a move to shut the door. Miss Orange seems to find this curious, comes to the door and makes a chirpy meow that sounds oddly like a greeting. Sam smiles, reaches down to scratch behind the perky orange ears and underneath her white chin. Just as Andy is going to tell him to beat it, she street buzzer rings again, obviously this time dinner is here. She lets the delivery driver in, takes her bags, and says to Sam "please go, I'm about to have dinner and we've got nothing to talk about."
He looks at her hard and says "just give me a few minutes please, then I'll go." She scoffs at this and lets him in, goes and grabs the kitchen timer, sets it to ten minutes and sets it on the coffee table. "You got ten minutes, I'm not letting dinner go cold while you come in and try to throw more stupid cliches at me." "What's with the cat?" he asks. "You're asking about my new cat? I mean, hey, it's your ten minutes." "I didn't know you were getting a pet," he replies. She answers him "it was going to be a surprise during our days off, I'd decided it was time to get a pet. I haven't had one since I was very small and we had a dog." He replies with a memory about the cat he and Sarah had as children. Ten minutes later the timer is going off and they're still talking about animals.
"I, uhm, guess your time is up then," she says. It's a surprise how comfortable they suddenly were talking about something so simple. She breathes deep and sighs, and says to him "you might as well stay for some dinner, I had to order over ten dollars worth to get it delivered, so there's a ton of prawn curry and noodles." "Okay," he says, "dinner and then I'll get out of your way." "You seem okay," he goes on, "happy I guess." She gives him an unfathomable look and says "you don't really know, Sam, you have no idea," and hurries into the kitchen to start filling their plates. They eat in mostly silence, passing little bits of prawn over to Miss Orange who surely does appreciate the treat.
"You got my favourite," he mentions. "Yeah," she says, "old habits die hard I guess." "Andy..." he starts, then leaves it hanging. He doesn't know what to say, she doesn't know how to react. Miss Orange stretches and then settles herself on Sam's lap and he absentmindedly starts to pet her. He's staring so hard at Andy, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he continues "I've fucked up royally this time, worse than ever I think. I don't want this, Andy, I really and truly don't." She mistakes his meaning, and responds icily "I guess you made the right decision then." "No, he says, no, that's not what I mean. No!" Miss Orange perks up at his voice, then hops down to inspect a few prawn tails on a plate on the coffee table.
"I mean I don't want us to be apart, I mean that I made the wrong decision, and I mean that I care about you. With you gone it's like there's a giant hole in my chest where my heart is gone." Andy looks at him hard and thinks, then asks him "are you sure? I mean why, now, why yesterday you tell me some day we can be friends and the next, not even twenty-four hours later, you're here to tell me you're wrong. How long till you change your mind again?"
Her voice breaks on the last word and turns her head from him, not wanting him to see her cry. Miss Orange hops on her lap as she turns to look off the other end of the sofa, her back facing him. He looks at her, the long ponytail hanging forward over her right shoulder exposing the nape of her neck, the slim fitting long sleeved shirt showing the shape of her back, her slender shoulders, the swell of her upper chest, the gentle dip of her waist, and the rounded shape of her hips in low cut blue jeans. He knows she prefers simple, inexpensive, plain clothes like these and yet she can fill them like they're designer made.
He moves up closer behind her, making sure that he at least makes enough noise so that she can hear him moving as he doesn't want to startle her when he touches her. He puts a hand on her shoulder and then moves it around to a light embrace, leaning his forehead to touch hear the bottom of her hair line. She feels his breathing on her neck and shoulders and forces herself not to respond, not to shudder or moan or turn around. She knows he knows that the back of her neck is one of the best places to kiss her, especially as part of foreplay. This is a complete turn on for her and so for him as well. He tells himself no, but finds his lips there anyway. Sure enough she emits a long low pitched moan of pleasure, which encourages him to keep kissing and start lightly running his tongue up and down, lightly grazing with his teeth.
She is on the verge of telling him to stop and to beat it, now, before something happens that's going to cause her already broken heart to be stomped on as well. That's when he moves to her left earlobe, a place he also knows is quite sensitive, and sucks gently at just the bottom, running his tongue on a tiny spot right at the bottom of he earlobe. She feels the maneuvers and motions he is making with his tongue and realizes that this is the exact way he uses his tongue when he is a great deal lower on her body. Reluctantly she pulls away and turns around to look at him. "I'm not looking for the one last hurrah here, you know when you come over to collect your stuff and we end up fucking one last time." She inwardly winces at her own use of the word "fucking," she doesn't like to use it to refer to the act between them. As a verb it brings to mind hard, fast, almost brutal and uncaring, no emotions involved.
He catches the use of the word and replies "I'm not here for that, I want and need to talk with you. Of course I'd love to make love to you again," he says, using the term that they normally use and she has always felt is a better descriptor, "but it isn't my main objective. I'm sorry to have startled you, I just want to talk." She feels everything about her getting aroused. "Okay," she says, "go ahead and talk. But what if," she asks, "I'm ready to move on now too?" She has her arms crossed, her jaw set defiantly, and lifts it to look at her. She can't hide the arousal in her darkened eyes though and she can quite easily see the same in his own. "Then tell me," he says, "tell me and I will honour what you say. Tell me to go and I will go and we will do our damndest to be friends again. I won't let our friendship die because of this." She feels herself softening toward him.
They talk for quite some time, so long that they've put away a few beers between them. She wants him, he wants her, they are both still hurt from the loss of a friend and partner. He decides he loves her new cat and Miss Orange seems quite taken with him too. They agree, finally, to not hate each other and to try to start over again. There is no blame passed around and he finally says "I can't live without you. In any way, shape, or form." She grows tired, and starts nodding off on the sofa. Once she falls asleep, he lets her get deep into sleep, coaxes Miss Orange off her tummy, and picks her up to carry her to bed. She half wakes up, then shimmies out of her blue jeans and shirt. Despite his mind screaming at him to stay there and help her get fully undressed, he pulls out some pyjamas which had been folded at the end of the bed.
She awakens enough to put them on herself, then remove her bra and put the matching slim fitting tank top on. He kisses her forehead and brushes her hair back, saying he will go. She asks him to stay, and when he asks if she is sure, she says she is. He undresses, finds a pair of pyjama bottoms he left in the drawer and puts them on. Feet and chest bare, he climbs in. In her sleep she responds to his nearness by rolling closer and wrapping an arm and leg around him. He strokes her hair as she falls back to sleep. He kisses the top of her head and whispers "I love you" so gently she doesn't appear to hear it nor respond. Miss Orange comes up to sleep at their feet.
She awakens at six as usual, unable by nature to sleep any later than that. In the night she has rolled onto her back as has Sam, as the cat snuggles between them. She goes to make coffee and brings two mugs with milk to bed. Miss Orange has retreated to her breakfast bowl. Sam wakes up, sits up against the headboard, and smiles. "Hi," he says. She smiles back and says "good morning." They sip their coffee and read the news and comics on her laptop and computer tablet. She sets the tablet down and he passes the laptop over to her. She sets the laptop on the dresser and sets it to play the Groove Salad station on the Soma FM site, playing some chill electronica as a bit of background noise. She turns to look at him, dark eyes growing darker by the minute. Her cheeks, neck, and chest are coloured with a blush and her breathing is deep and steady. He knows those signs, knows what she wants, and feels himself respond.
His eyes darken too and he reaches over to take her hand. He kisses the back and palm of the hand, and each one of her slender fingers. She has such small hands, they are easily covered by his big hands. He runs his fingers up her bare arms, stopping to tickle the spot on the inside of her elbows that makes her shiver and giggle a bit. She tries to grab him closer but he says to her "no, please, just lie back and let me. Do you trust me enough to do so?" he asks. She nods wordlessly and leans back as he continues to touch her. He comes closer to sit with his hip touching hers and leans over to kiss her neck and collarbone. He just barely touches his lips to hers and then pays attention to each of her ears. Gently he maneuvers her to sit in front of him, his bare chest to her back. He takes the bottom of her tank top and pulls it up and over hear head. He continues by kissing the exact spot on the back of her neck that he recalls she likes, while holding her breasts in each hand.
He hears a throaty moan from her and her back arches from the physical sensations. Sam's always been a good lover, she thinks, but this is beyond even anything she's ever felt. He gets her up onto her knees and pulls the long pyjama bottoms and undies down to her knees, then off and chucks them off the side of the bed. "Lie down on your tummy," he says. She does with her arms around a pillow and her face turned to one side. "Do you still trust me, do you still feel safe?" he asks. She nods wordlessly. He strokes his fingers through her hair, still loose from sleeping the night before. He finds a hair tie on the bedpost and gently braids her hair back so that it will be out of the way. She laughs at this, asks him about his hair dressing skills, to which he proudly responds that he learned how to braid during boy scouts and she's lucky he didn't just put her hair in a slip knot. She laughs even harder.
Smoothly he sweeps the braid to one side so he can expose her left ear to his touch. He gently strokes at her ear and takes his fingertips and begins to draw a line from her ear, down her neck, over her left shoulder blade, down the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, her upper leg, the back of her knee, and finally down the calf to the arch of her foot and ending at her toes. She shivers and moans at this. He repeats the same extended long stroking touch on the right side of her body, then the left, and right once again. The result is a long, unbroken sensation of pure pleasure, like nothing she's ever felt. "Oh my god, what was that?" she cannot stop herself from asking. "Just a way of making you feel good," he says. "That's..." she's clearly speechless. He smiles at her response. She rolls over onto her back to look up at him.
He looks down, drinking in the perfection with his eyes. She's shaved for him, completely smooth and bare. He loves that because it makes using his mouth on her so much easier. His pyjama bottoms are straining from the erection, but he ignores what he wants for now, knowing that he has more to do with her. In his mind he thinks of all the things they've done in this bed, in the shower, all the positions they've taken, and the toys they have used. They're both adventurous and neither has ever, ever, let the other leave the bed unless they've been fully pleased. He knows in his mind and in his heart, which is full to bursting with the emotion and love he's feeling, that they are the best for one another.
She smiles up invitingly at him and pulls him down by her hand at the back of his neck. He stretches out next to her and begins to kiss her deep and softly. He runs his tongue on her lower lip and then kisses down the column of her neck to her collarbones and then taking first one and then the other breast in his mouth. He knows what to do with his mouth and hands to get her excited about having her breasts touched. He continues to drop kisses on her ribcage and the smooth slight roundness of her belly and lower abdomen. She's in great shape, slim but healthy and strong which gives the perfect shape of her abdomen and hips. When lying down her hipbones jut upward, just begging to be kissed and stroked. She's writhing below him, anticipating where he is going next and quite obviously pleased at the prospect.
He drops a kiss onto the top of her pubic bone, the curve of which is easy to see from where she has shaved the area bare. She'd once talked about getting a full wax but he talked her out of it, worried about how much it would hurt. He's even helped her shave before, an act of trust that he was amazed she would share. He presses some wet, open mouth kisses to the insides of her thighs and then goes to stroke gently on the outside of her cleft. He strokes down both sides with light fingertip touches, leaning forward to kiss the outside. She's obviously excited, he can see she is swollen slightly and quite pink all around. "Please, Sam, please," she pleads with him. Teasing her back he asks "please what?" He doesn't let her curse at him or anything, but then leans over and presses another kiss to the outside.
She's moaning and writhing, so he pulls the sides apart gently with his fingertips and strokes a long lick from bottom to top. "Oh, ohhhhh," she is crying out. He continues these long licks, and then finds the tight, swollen, bundle of nerves that is the centre of her pleasure. He concentrates most of his movements here, quickly stroking the little bud with his tongue. At the same time he takes one finger and reaches up inside to stroke exactly where he knows the spot it. This intensifies the feel of his tongue on her. She is crying out his name, to god, to whatever as he can feel the tightening of her inner muscles. He increases his concentration on the tight nub and places just a little more pressure with his finger from the inside. Her muscles begin to to tighten and ripple and she is breathing so hard that she first opens her mouth in a wordless scream and then makes all the noise she can. The waves of pleasure are so hard and so strong that they roll over her and she is all but convulsing under his tongue and his touch.
She catches her breath after a while and then relaxes a bit with a long deep sigh. He grins at her and climbs up to kiss her. He loves that she's got no problem with kissing him after he's been down on her. She takes a sip of water from the bottle she always keeps at the bedside. She then gets a slightly mischevious, slightly predatory look that is focused on Sam. "Okay, what is it, Andy?" he asks, still smiling. She hops up and straddles him, tugging at his pyjama pants. Off go the flannel bottoms and he is grinning up at her from his prone position on the bed. She runs her fingers down his hard, muscular chest and torso to wrap her hands around his erection. She knows how much he likes her mouth on him, so she leans down to pull back the skin covering the tip and begins licking around at the top. She opens her mouth wider and takes him in as far as she can.
Knowing what he likes, she licks up and down, then seals her mouth around to create some suction pressure. He is groaning at the sensation and she knows, can feel when it's time to stop. When she takes her mouth off of him, he grabs a few pillows and puts them against the headboard and moves back in a sitting position. She kneels over him and lowers herself onto his erection, feeling as he stretches and fills her. "Oh," she says as she feels the pleasurable sensation of him coming home. He is looking deep in her eyes as he reaches to stroke her clit once again, revelling in how it makes the tight walls inside that surround his erection flutter and pull. "I know you can do it again, pretty girl," he says smiling mischeviously at her. She moves around, up and down and in little circles, gasping at the feelings he is giving her. He moans every time she bottoms out and he can feel himself pushed all the way inside her.
This connection, it's really like coming home each and every time. He watches intensely as her movements get more erratic and feels the pulses inside getting harder and then suddenly she convulses around him once again, calling his name and her muscles pulling and pulling at him. He knows what to do to get her to ride through the second climax and makes sure he keeps touching her, his warm breath in her ear "there you go, baby, let it go, I love watching you do this, I know what you need." Her movements are faster and more furious now and she is looking right at him. "Let go for me, Sam," she says, "come for me now. Show me what you've got." He groans and she moves harder and faster as he grasps her hips and guides her to the right movements. Shortly after he is moaning and shouting and gasping for air as she feels the hot pulses in her belly where he fills her deep. His eyes are wide and he holds her gaze as they both breathe hard and try to come back down to Earth.
She stays straddled over him and slumps forward a bit so she can lay her head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and holds her close. Her voice slips out of her before she can stop it and says "I love you," murmuring into his neck. He gets her to look him deep in the eyes and says "I think I loved you before I even met you, I can't fathom life without you, and I will love you for the rest of our natural lives and beyond that if there is anything." She's amazed and has to ask "when did you come to this?" "Yesterday," he tells her. "All I could do was stare at the damn walls and think what a goddamn fool I was and, by the end of the day, it was all I could about. I hoped against hope you'd give me another chance and if you do I swear to god I will do whatever it takes." She smiles about this and says "we're gonna work on it together, it takes two and two will figure it out." Miss Orange comes up to visit, having sensed earlier that her two humans needed some space.
"How about we call this the beginnings of our family, eh?" he asks, grinning at the orange cat making herself at home on top of the duvet. "I think we can manage that," she replies.
Epilogue- Ten Months Later
It's a Saturday morning and Andy is snoozing late whilst Sam makes up a mess of bacon, eggs, baked beans, and buttered toast. As is always the case in the mornings, Miss Orange hops up on the bed and does her chirpy meow greeting and headbuts Andy in the chin to wake her. Andy smiles and reaches to scratch a willing chin, not really paying attention. Suddenly the bed dips slightly as Andy feels Sam sit behind her. "Look at her new collar," he says, I thought she could use something a bit more glamorous. Sure enough, Miss Orange has a new green leather collar with silver flat studs on it and something awfully sparkly on the identity tag. She smiles, at first thinking it's just a part of the design. Then looks closer. Oh my god. She realizes that it's a ring, a fairly wide band in white gold with diamonds set in it. Fingers shaking she removes it from the name tag and turns to look at Sam. She sits up in bed, her eyes never leaving his as he reaches over to take the ring from her fingertips, kneels down, and puts it on her hand. A perfect fit. "Please say yes," he says to her smiling. She's fit to cry from the excitement and all she can do is nod. He sits by her and hugs her close and hears her say it: "yes, with all my heart."