A/N: Hi guys! Gosh, it's been a while. This semester really had me buckling down so I wasn't able to get down two sentences worth of anything that wasn't class-related. But break is finally here and I'm back with my latest creation. This idea has been sitting in my head for a while now and as excited as I was when it first came to me, I had to exercise some self-control and wait until break started to get it down. Also, the premise of this is based on a slightly OOC Sam (at least I think he is) so just a heads up. Anyways, here it is! Enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: I really don't think Santa will be giving me Rookie Blue for Christmas…*sigh* maybe next year.
Say It Ain't So
"Boo-yah! 100 points for Team Miaz!"
Stepping out of the viewing room and falling into step beside her partner, Andy raised an amused eyebrow. "'Miaz?'" she repeated with humored skepticism.
"Yeah, you know. McNally and Diaz. Miaz. Like Bradgelina and Bennifer."
Andy snorted into her coffee. "I'm choosing to ignore the fact that you know who those people are."
"Funny, Andy," Chris deadpanned, holding the door to the division's garage open as she stepped through. "But seriously. We needed a team name. This isn't a competition unless we have team names."
She chuckled at her partner's never-ending enthusiasm. As childish as it was, it was an antic that was so uniquely Chris, she couldn't help but play along. But then again, the whole competition itself was rather childish so who was she to judge? As it were, she and Chris were currently engaged in a points battle with Traci and Dov. Winning was simple: whoever had the most points by the end of the week were endowed with bragging rights of epic proportions until the next challenge. And with their speeding ticket-turned-outstanding warrant for suspicion on four counts of robbery and aggravated assault worth the maximum 100 points, she and Chris were off to a promising start.
"Then Miaz it is," she replied with a grin. "Go team." Raising a fist, she bumped her knuckles against Chris's gloved hand.
They continued walking back to their cruiser, the biting December cold nipping at every inch of exposed flesh, when a thought suddenly struck her.
"Crap, I forgot my notepad in the viewing room. I'll meet you back at the car."
Turning on her heel, she made her way back to the building and the viewing room they had just vacated after their collar confessed his crimes to Jerry. She entered the darkened room, the lights of the adjoining interrogation room now off due to its lack of occupants. Scanning the area, she spotted her notepad resting where she had left it on the computer table tucked away in the corner and quickly retrieved it, replacing it back in her pocket before her at-times wayward brain decided on another inconvenient place for it, then headed for the door. She had scarcely made it three steps when the door of the interrogation room flung open and the lights flicked on, throwing two entering figures into view.
"Sammy, what the hell is going on?" Oliver demanded as Sam pushed him forward into the room by the shoulders.
Having either not heard Oliver or chosen to ignore him, Sam quickly shut the door behind him and began pacing the room, causing Andy to cock her head in confusion. In the nearly four years they had known each other and the two they had been together, she had only seen him this agitated a handful of times, all of which included her, and on one occasion Sarah, in life-threatening situations. Concerned but curious about her boyfriend's current state, she opted against marching into the interrogation room and joining Oliver with his questioning, choosing instead to remain hidden behind the one-way window as the scene unfolded before her.
Inside the other room, Oliver had successfully gotten in the way of Sam's pacing but was now attempting to keep his friend from mowing him over. "Hey. Come on, man, talk to me," he said, raising his hands to lightly push Sam back when he made no effort to stop. "What's this about?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair, his head shaking in an odd, jerky fashion. "I—I can't. I can't do this."
If it weren't for Sam's strange behavior, Andy would have burst out laughing at Oliver's utterly bewildered expression. "Do…" At that moment, the pieces finally seemed to click for Oliver and his eyes widened with realization. "Oh, no. No, you can't back out now."
"She knows, Oliver. I swear to God she knows!"
"How would she—"
"This is McNally we're talking about. It's like she has a sixth sense for this stuff. Especially after the Callaghan fiasco."
At those words, Andy stiffened. What the hell was he talking about? But a tiny voice at the back of her head echoed dimly. You know what he's talking about. She visibly shook her head. No. There was no way Sam would do such a thing. He loved her. He was better than that. He was…human, the voice chimed in again. You know you've had some suspicions. Still, Andy refused to let the voice get the best of her.
"Sam, trust me," Oliver said, his voice slow and deliberate. "She doesn't know. Which is why you have to go through with this."
There was a slight pause and Sam seemed to ponder the implications of Oliver's claim. "But that's good, right? That she doesn't know. Because then I don't have to do this yet. I can put it off a while longer."
"Sammy, you can't put this off. Look at you. You're about two seconds away from calling her up and doing this whole thing over the phone."
Another pause. "Can I just do that?" Sam asked after a beat, hopeful pleading lacing his voice.
"Do you want her to castrate you?" Oliver replied blankly, not at all moved by his friend's plea. His face softened and when he spoke again, his voice was calmly reassuring. "Look, I get it. I do. You think you're gonna screw this up. You think you don't need to do this. But you can't keep leading her on. Not when you've both come this far. McNally's smart. She'll figure it out eventually. You don't want her finding out some other way, do you?"
Sam scratched the back of his neck and looked guiltily at the ground.
"So, you're doing this," Oliver said firmly, taking Sam by the shoulders.
"I'm doing this."
"After shift."
"After shift."
Oliver lightly clapped Sam on the side of his head. "You got this, brother. What's the worst she can do?"
What little confidence Sam had just built up seemed to crumble slightly at that and a fleeting look of panic passed over his face.
"Don't answer that," Oliver quickly added, backtracking. "Now, come on. It's time for a hoagie run."
With that, Andy watched as Oliver steered Sam out of the interrogation room, flicking the lights off as they went. For a moment, she just stood there, the coffee cup in her hand long since forgotten as she stared through the tinted window into the other room. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. Only it could and the facts had been staring her right in the face.
It had started two months ago when Sam told her that he would be picking up a few extra night shifts on the days when he was also scheduled to work the afternoons which, coincidently, also happened to be the days she had off. He had done this before when they were getting ready to buy a new apartment together earlier that year and so of course, she wanted to know what the occasion was this time.
"Just saving up for Nick and Peyton's Christmas gift," he had said the night he brought it up.
"What are you buying them? A condo?" Granted, Sarah's two boys were spoiled rotten by their favorite uncle but she could hardly imagine what kind of present would cost a whole two months' worth of overtime.
"It's a surprise," was his only answer and because she loved and trusted him, she left it at that.
Which would've been fine if it hadn't been for poker nights. Or rather the conspicuous lack of stories and hangovers that usually resulted from poker nights. Every Friday night since the overtimes started, he would kiss her goodnight like all the other Friday nights in the past, whispering that he would be home long after she'd fallen asleep and yet every Saturday morning, the hangovers that she had grown accustomed to being a part of her day were glaringly absent and the only answers to her inquiries about last night's game were unimaginative variations of "Jerry got run over by the deck." and "I held my own." But he still smelled of booze and smoke which she hardly found all that reassuring all things considered.
Oh, come on, Andy. You're being ridiculous, a different voice said this time, one she liked much more than the other. He probably has a very reasonable explanation for all that. Yes, that was definitely it. She was just overreacting, over thinking things like how she always did.
But as she strode out of the viewing room and made her way back to the cruiser, she couldn't help but feel like something wasn't adding up.
For the rest of the day, she tried to keep her unruly thoughts at bay but no matter what she did, they somehow managed to worm their way into the forefront of her brain, pushing more pressing matters to the back of her mind. In fact, she had been so distracted that she had almost driven off without Chris on several occasions, prompting him to ask her after the third incident if she was okay.
"I'm fine," she replied tersely, taking care to keep her eyes trained on the road.
Chris clearly didn't buy a word of it but knew her well enough to know that whatever was wrong wasn't something she would be willing to talk about any time soon and therefore dropped the issue.
She had to give herself some credit though since she managed to make it four hours into shift before deciding to do some investigating into the issue. And so while Chris stood in line at a taco truck during their lunch break, Andy made up her mind to call the one person who could possibly provide her with some information. Which turned out to be the thing to push her completely over the edge.
Because apparently, Traci had seen Sam at the Penny on more than one Friday night when he was supposed to be playing poker with the boys. She had taken the afternoon shift on those days since Leo spent the weekends with Dex and would drop by the Penny after shift for a drink, catching sight of her superior officer nursing a scotch at the bar. At this, Andy felt a twinge of irritation towards Traci for not telling her but then again, she never brought up when Jerry seemed to be missing from Sam's poker night stories.
With solid evidence that Sam had not been where he'd said he was, the lame attempts at excuses she had been formulating on his behalf were promptly thrown out the window and by the end of shift, Andy was fully intent on giving him a piece of her mind.
She changed quickly at the station, flat out ignoring Traci's inquiries about their conversation earlier, then made a beeline for the men's locker room, only to grudgingly trudge back to the bullpen when an exiting Chris reminded her about her paperwork.
Fifteen minutes later, her work was done and she sprung from her desk with the sole intention of cornering Sam in the locker room to demand an explanation. Walking through the bullpen, however, she spotted him coming her way already dressed in his standard blue jeans, gray t-shirt, and leather jacket, his dark hair still trickling water down his neck.
"Hey," he said, flashing her a quick, lopsided grin.
But Andy was having none of it. "We need to talk."
Sam blinked, clearly taken aback. "Oh. Uh…okay. Let me just tell Shaw that—"
"No. You're not telling Shaw anything." She jutted a finger accusingly in his face. "I heard you two, okay? This morning in the interrogation room. I heard all of it."
"You—"
"Did you really think that you could keep this from me?" she cut in, hardly caring that they were standing in the middle of the bullpen in plain view of their friends and coworkers. Sam had been lying to her and doing God knows what else and she'd be damned if she was going to spend another minute without addressing it. "Shaw was right. It was only a matter of time before I put all the pieces together and guess what? I did. The extra night shifts when I conveniently had the day off. Telling me you were going to Jerry's for poker night then skipping out for the Penny instead. So, no. You don't get to wait until after shift to spring this on me. We're doing this right here, right now. And I don't give a damn if the entire division's watching."
Her blood pounded thunderously in her ears as she finished her rant, her words lingering heavily in the air. Hot tears prickled her eyes but she fought to keep them from spilling, refusing to let Sam see her weakness. Instead, she stared him down, determined and unforgiving, trying to figure out where things went wrong between them.
He stood there, looking back at her, his eyes uncharacteristically wide and frozen. His gaze shifted, then, darting uncertainly behind her where, she had no doubt, her coworkers had begun to gather before coming back to rest on her.
"Okay," he finally said rather dumbly.
He held her gaze a moment longer, the astonishment in his eyes giving way to something else she couldn't quite place. She then watched as he proceeded to kneel on one knee, her scowl deepening as he did so. What, is he going to beg for my forgiveness now?
But then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box and all at once, she realized just how very wrong she had been about everything. So very, very wrong.
"Well, this isn't exactly how I planned on doing this but…" He opened the box, revealing a beautiful princess cut diamond ring. "What do you say? You wanna marry me, McNally?"
Suddenly, the station seemed much too quiet for her liking. Unbidden, her mouth gapped open as she fought to process what he had just asked her.
"An answer would be nice," he said after several moments of silence had passed, a small, nervous grin playing on his lips. "Preferably a 'yes.'"
She gawked at him, trying desperately to reconnect her mouth with her brain. "Yes," she said at last when she finally managed to find her voice. "Yes, of course I will."
Cheers and applause erupted from the officers around them but she hardly paid any attention to them as Sam's smile grew even wider and he slipped the ring on her finger. Tears of a different kind started to roll down her face and she hastily wiped them away before they got any further.
Still smiling, Sam rose to his feet, catching her when she threw her arms around his neck. Stupid, stupid idiot, she berated herself as she buried her nose into the groove of Sam's collarbone and breathed in his scent. Of course you have to go and over think everything. He was planning to propose, not tell you he'd had an affair. She suddenly hated herself for even doubting Sam's faithfulness.
Pulling away but keeping her hands locked behind his neck, she looked up to find him still grinning as if Christmas had come early.
"So the extra night shifts?" she asked timidly, her cheeks flushing a slight crimson.
"All went towards the Andy McNally Engagement Ring Fund," he answered, a cheeky glint in his eye.
"And missing poker night?"
"Kept me from blowing the Andy McNally Engagement Ring Fund."
"And you're not having a secret affair with a hot Brazilian bombshell named Alessandra?"
He made a face, something halfway between confusion and amusement. "Where would you even—"
"Sam."
"And I'm not having a secret affair with a hot Brazilian bombshell named Alessandra," he confirmed dutifully, the corners of her lips twitching.
The breath she had unknowingly been holding quickly left her lungs at that and she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his sternum. "God, I'm such an idiot."
He chuckled, the laughter rumbling through his chest warm and comforting, as his strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist.
"We can never do anything normal, can we?" she asked, looking up at him after a moment.
He raised an eyebrow. "We wouldn't be ourselves if we could."
There was a pause and she busied herself smoothing out the fabric of his jacket. "I'm sorry," she mumbled sheepishly to his chest. "About all that."
He waited until she met his gaze once more before replying, "I know. And you'll have all night to make it up to me."
His signature disarming smirk tugged at his lips, dimples flashing in full form, and she didn't even try to hide her eyes rolling to high heaven. But as Sam's lips descended upon hers, much to the ongoing catcalls of their coworkers, she allowed herself a smile of her own, knowing that she would rather be exasperated because of him than be placated because of anyone else.
A/N: I've had thoughts about those one-way windows and all the mischief they can bring for a while now but could never come up with a decent story for it. Until this popped in my head. I realize that Sam comes off a little OOC in the beginning but that was the only way I figured this story could work. Also, the Victoria Secret fashion show had been big with my roommates when I was thinking this up hence, the reference to one of the models haha. Anyways, please leave your thoughts if you'd be so kind. I really do appreciate them. Happy Holidays everyone! :)