Still struggling with Forgotten Memories. It's not forgotten, I'm just unhappy with the current chapters. This is set just a bit after the finale and during their suspension.

I own nothing.

"No," Sam said definitively, crossing his arms across his chest and moving into what Dov had enviously described (and then tried to replicate) as his 'I'm a badass' stance.

"I didn't think I was asking a question," Andy replied judiciously ignoring his demanding tone, as she reached for the bag of apples on the shelf. She didn't like grocery shopping to begin with but this non-argument was not helping.

Sam snorted, grabbing the apples from her and putting them in his cart. "No, you were answering one. I just told you that it wasn't going to work."

Andy raised her eyebrows speculatively, before snagging the apples out of the cart and placing them in her carry basket, turning and marching out of the produce section, leaving a scowling Sam behind her.

On principle, he wasn't going to chase after her so he spun his cart in the opposite direction and walked straight over to the lettuce. He poked at bags of lettuce and whole heads of the stuff idly, his scowl settling deeper into his face. He didn't even like lettuce. He muttered a series of unpleasant things to himself now noticing the sideways looks he was earning from wary patrons. The bruises on his face hadn't fully faded and the stitches over his eye were still spidery and sticking out. Feeling foolish he put down the plastic wrapped iceberg and spun back around. Smiling politely at the little old woman clutching her purse to her chest and eyeing him suspiciously, he quickly wheeled in the direction Andy had taken.

Of all the days she had to be difficult, she picked today, Sam grumbled to himself the cart clattering loudly as he stomped by the seafood department. Three aisles down and he still hadn't seen her in any of the rows. He felt his temper bubbling beneath the surface. Just when he had started to contemplate the consequences for making a scene by yelling her name until she responded, he spotted her in the baking aisle, perusing the brown sugar selection. He wheeled the cart down and 'parked' it right next to her. She studiously ignored his presence and continued to poke at the bags in front of her.

Tapping his fingers impatiently on the cart handle Sam weighed his options. His inner eight year old really wanted to bump her with the cart. Not maliciously of course, just to let her know that the silent treatment would glean similarly juvenile behavior. The more mature part acknowledged that he may have been a smidge out of a line and trying to talk it out was the better choice. Whether it was his general hatred of the grocery store, low blood sugar, lingering anger over her blasé announcement or a combination of the three, in a strategically poor decision Sam allowed the inner eight year old to claim victory. Let the fireworks begin.

It had been nearly two weeks since their suspensions had begun. Andy had crawled into his truck that night to begin what had been twelve blissful days of 'normal'. Okay, blissful may have been overstating it. They couldn't go even a few hours without picking on one another but that was normal and for them the normality alone was its own bliss. No more shame. No more hiding. No fear of imminent discovery and slow and painful death. They say there's an adrenaline high once you've cheated death. It supposedly leads to giddy or even reckless behavior and unusually impulsive decisions. In their case it led to being holed up in his house together for four days straight. Well wishes were thanked through terse text messages punched out during the few moments they weren't pawing at one another. On day five, finally coming up for air, the pair managed to make some headway in their lives. Andy signed her mortgage papers and began to prepare for her first property closing. Sam went in and gave his official version of events to Frank, with an IA officer holding court at the head of the table. Day six was Andy's turn, while Sam agreed to help Oliver make some home repairs. Both found it to be a day full of interrogation. The rest of the week continued in a similar manner. Uncomfortable questions asked by men in suits, seeing friends, coming home to food and companionship, fighting and playing and falling asleep wrapped up in each other. It was the call from Sarah which altered their plans somewhat.

The chirping of Sam's phone on his nightstand was not a surprise; He and Sarah had a tradition of Monday night calls. She immediately wanted all the details on how things were with Andy (Whom Sarah had decided she loved immediately upon hearing of the alley tackling incident.). The very difficult call last Monday had explained why he had returned so soon. His concern that Sarah would blame Andy proved unfounded and he had cringed as his sister described some truly vicious plans for Boyd's reproductive (or lack thereof) future. She also told him to clear his guest room since she would leave the kids with Matthew and she was coming to visit. He wasn't surprised then when this Monday she announced her intention to arrive on Thursday and stay the weekend. Andy had reacted with self-conscious concern. While she never voiced the worry, Sam knew she feared Sarah's opinion of her. His close-mouthed attitude about his family had not been intentional but telling her his sister already liked 'McNally' better than her own brother seemed a little fast so he just kept quiet. Andy in return had her nerves winding tighter and tighter.

In light of this new addition, Andy began her usual ritualistic coping mechanism. For Sam it was tinkering with the clunker of a car in his garage; hers was baking. Just yesterday she laid out a menu to rival his late grandmother's Thanksgiving spread. Her 'Barefoot Contessa' moment was interrupted by a strange call from Traci. Sam had just speculated on the strangeness to that point since Andy had been vague in her explanation before she jetted out the door with his truck keys. She returned a few hours later, quiet and a little withdrawn. Sam's attempts to find out what was going on was met with hand gestures and shrugs. No one was more surprised than he was when she practically jumped him in the hallway that evening. They didn't make it to the bed and for the second time in a month Sam felt the affects of a wood floor on an aging back.

This morning after some ibuprofen, coffee and some crappy daytime television, Andy had goaded him into a grocery store trip to fulfill her need for a culinary explosion. In the car was where she sprung it on him. That call from Traci had actually been Jerry via Traci. Refusing to explain over the phone she had been summoned to his side for something about a case. Arriving, Jerry had pulled her into his office. Brennan had, for reasons unknown to them at the time, gone silent. Jamie had been requesting to speak to "Candice or whatever she calls herself". Andy was floored. Jerry had however been clear, It was up to her and he would not hold it against her if she refused. They could make the case without Brennan it would just take longer. The case against Brennan was not in jeopardy. Unable to decide in that moment Andy had begged off on the preferring to have some time to think. She had been wondering aloud to Sam over the benefit of talking to Brennan when his control broke like a cheap hairband. So now, here they stood.

Sam was already seriously regretting running into her with the cart. He could see Andy's color raising in fury and that scene he had been contemplating seemed imminent. Sarah once told him he had the emotional range of a cotton ball. He was beginning to see how she might be right. At the end of her rope, Andy took a deep breath before she walked up to Sam slowly. Without saying a word she slammed her basket into his stomach and threw her shopping list on top before grabbing the keys from his pocket and stomping out of the store. Sam sighed and looked down at her list. She seemed to have gathered all she needed but the sugar and Sam quickly grabbed the nearest package, tossing it in his cart. Dumping the rest of her basket's contents in as well he swiftly rolled to the cashier's line.

From his space in line he quickly realized that it was entirely possible that with his keys and childish behavior McNally had reciprocated in kind. Peering somewhat desperately out the partially blocked windows he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw his truck running with the lights on but still in the parking lot. Willing the people in front of him to check out faster (which never works) it was another 10 minutes before he had paid, collected his bags and was sliding out to his truck dreading the rage he was sure to encounter. In some ways what he encountered was much much worse.

Climbing into the driver's side Sam was expecting to be flambéed on the spot. The quiet request to be taken home had him instantly suspicious. She wasn't likely to just put up with his antics. It was how they worked so well as partners and up until now as more. Putting the truck in gear he pulled out of their space and when he was about to turn left Andy cleared her throat loudly. "I said home, as in my condo which is the other way."

And with that his suspicion was confirmed. Thinking on his feet he said the only thing he could think up to get her back into his house. "The groceries need to be refrigerated," he said confidently.

Andy remained unimpressed. "It's December. They'll be fine," she said back simply. When Sam's truck continued steadfastly toward his own home, the annoyance began to creep back into her voice. "I'm not kidding, Sam. I'm not in the mood to fight with you. You need to take me home."

Somewhat desperate realizing the gravity of his error Sam held up a hand. "Look, will you just hear me out please? If you don't want to stay, I'll take you back to your condo." Sam couldn't make himself call it her home.

Shooting him a sideways look, she nodded if somewhat reluctantly. "Fine," she said with a bite, "but you will take me home."

Sam nodded and took a deep breath.

When the silence continued for a minute and then two beyond that, Andy began to tap her feet impatiently. "You want to talk? So talk," she told him completely fed up with his behavior and mercurial moods.

Irritated by her impatience as much as his own stupidity Sam didn't filter what spilled out of his mouth next. "I thought you were dead!" he snapped at her. At her stricken look he toned back his reaction and began to explain. "When I woke up at that farm house you were the first thing I asked about. He said he dropped you off downtown and you were fine but I would have put money on it being a lie. You've seen his files. He didn't discriminate, anyone was a potential target and if someone had asked me in that minute I'd have told them you were dead. I hoped you had died so he couldn't torture you the way he did to everyone else. I hoped you were dead. Do you have any idea…" Sam broke off, the emotion clearly too much for him. Another deep breath and he was able to continue. "I've never been so relieved in all my life as when I saw you in front of that car. Once again the McNally internal lo-jack you've buried in me has saved my life again," he joked. Seeing her blank expression he kept going. "He would have killed you if he'd made you. He would have done horrible things to you which live in my nightmares. He does not get to see you or speak to you or even think about you. I'm sorry if that offends you, and I'm sorry I didn't express myself well but I… care about you and I won't apologize for that," he finished in a rush, pushing through the awkward ending as he pulled into his driveway.

It took Andy a moment to recover from that outburst. Sam was never the most verbose creature. Stumbling over himself to explain his harsh words from before was as surprising as it was touching. Andy turned toward him reaching out and taking the hand which had begun tapping a fast rhythm on the gear shift. "I'm not thrilled to talk to him either, but do you remember that trip to Sudbury?" she asked him quietly. At his nod she continued "And do you remember that talk about 'the greater good'?" she questioned. He frowned and nodded. "I don't like it any more than you do but I think this is one of those situations," she said with a shrug. When Sam's mouth opened she interrupted quickly. "No, hear me out. You weren't the only one who thought someone they… cared about was dead, Sam. We share the same nightmare with a different lead. The difference is though, that Brennan never touched me and he never can touch me, ever. The reason I told you is because I want you to be there when I talk to him. Not with me but in the observation room. You told me he wanted to apologize to you before. I'd be willing to bet that is what this is," she said with a shrug.

Sam sighed once again taking yet another deep breath before replying. "I still don't like it," he grumbled.

Andy simply nodded, "I know."

Sam took her hand between his and rubbed it before raising it to his lips. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, and I know this is your choice," he told her softly.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry for springing it on you."

"We never take the easy road, do we McNally?" he asked with a bit of a laugh.

Andy giggled and shook her head, "No we definitely do not."

"Maybe we need to get that lo-jack of yours checked out, because I know my sense of direction is excellent," Sam joked, grunting when her fist smacked his shoulder.

"Not funny Swarek," Andy admonished, but her grin gave her away.

They unpacked the groceries and talked further into the night about Brennan and the past. Their nightmare remained at bay from that night onward, seemingly defeated by their mutual acceptance of the reality.

Three days later, while Andy was busily stirring a mystery pot in the kitchen, Sam sat next to his sister on the couch both pretending to take notice of the game show playing in front of them.

"She's wonderful, Sam," Sarah told him with a smile, taking a large sip of her wine. "I mean she's young for you, really, but you're what, like fourteen if you factor in maturity. I wonder if Andy realizes she's a cougar. Well cougar or not that was an amazing apple crisp," Sarah mused laughing to herself.

Sam rolled his eyes before snatching her wineglass from her hand. "I think you've had enough."

"This is my first glass, spoil sport," Sarah taunted, before snatching it back. "Seriously though, she's a catch. When you want Mom's ring, let me know and I'll get it out of the safety deposit box," she informed her baby brother, smiling at his shell-shocked expression. "Oh don't give me that look, you know it's inevitable," she scolded him jokingly. At his shyly knowing smile, Sarah nodded in satisfaction. Her brother seemed to finally be approaching grown-up status. It certainly took him long enough. Looking at her brother she saw him happier than he'd been in recent memory. That McNally girl was the difference and Sarah could kiss her for it. As it was she'd content herself with nudging her brother in the right direction. She just wanted a mention in the 'Thank you' toast.