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A Sam/Andy fic.
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Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Rookie Blue.
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A/N: Here's another Sam/Andy fic from me.
I don't usually write humor fics, but after Sam's scenes in this episode, I couldn't resist.
I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
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There were many things that he regretted about the day, but right now, letting Andy McNally drive his truck was the biggest regret. He shouldn't have let Callaghan pull her into homicide's business, he shouldn't have let her go alone to retrieve the suspect, and he should not have let her take his truck. It was his beauty, his pride and joy ... and she'd gone and twisted everything out of shape.
"What did you do?" he asked her, his arms crossed as he inspected every last inch of his baby.
"Come on, it's not that bad," she tried, in that innocent little voice of hers.
Sam raised his eyebrows at her, glancing between her and his truck. His seat was shifted and tilted, his steering wheel appeared to be stuck in a downwards position, and his windshield wipers were stuck somewhere in the middle. One of his signal lights was stuck on an even, flickering pattern, and his radio station was trapped on some weird, pop-rock station. It was a nightmare.
"I don't even know where to start," he spoke.
Andy sighed, her hands clapping against her thighs. "I'm sorry!" she professed.
"How did this even happen?" he wanted to know.
"I - I just - the - when it started, I was just trying to adjust - and then everything started going crazy, and - it was just ..." she trailed off, looking down at the ground.
Sam sighed, running a hand over his mouth. "McNally?"
"Yes?" she asked hopefully.
"You are never allowed to touch my truck again."
Andy nodded her head. "I can live with that."
He sighed, closing the door and locking it.
"Do you want me to try and fix it, or -?"
Sam shook his head rapidly. "No, no, definitely not. You aren't going anywhere near it."
They began walking away, Andy glancing repeatedly over her shoulder. "So, are we just going to leave it here?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I have AMA. They can fix it. You get to buy me a beer."
She opened her mouth to say something in response, but then thought better of it. An evening of drinks with Sam Swarek, as punishment for wrecking his car? She couldn't find it within herself to argue with him.
Later that night, when he called a cab to drive them both home, she found herself happy once again that she'd deprived him of a ride home for the evening. He had suggested that she invite him in for another drink, seeing as how she'd messed up his car, it was the least she could do.
That had been the last time in the evening that either one of them had said something when they meant something else. Once they were behind her closed door, there was no more pretending.
Only lots and lots of fondling.
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The end.
Another quickie.
Well, what did you guys think? Like it, hate it?
Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!