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A Sam/Andy fic.
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Disclaimer: As per usual, I do not own Rookie Blue.
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A/N: Alrighty, I got the inspiration for this fic after a review on "Professional vs Personal" from "No.1TwiFanpire".
Pretty self-explanatory, I hope. Sam tells Andy to stop calling him sir, romance ensues.
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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It had started out as a game. He'd told her once to stop calling him 'sir', so Andy had made a fun game out of it. Any time Sam asked her a question, any time he called her name ... pretty much any time he spoke to her when the situation wasn't tense or dire, she would call him 'sir'. Sometimes she would be sarcastic about it, sometimes she would add a little husk to her voice, making him twitch in his seat. Sometimes she would salute him when she said it, making him roll his eyes at her.
All in all, their relationship was one filled with humor and inside jokes, and it worked for them.
Until one night, when he'd been driving her home from the Black Penny. He walked her up the steps to her apartment, waiting by the door as she dug her keys out of her purse.
"Well, goodnight, sir," she joked, angling to put the key into the lock when he placed his hand on her wrist.
"McNally ... stop calling me 'sir'," he requested for the second time.
Andy grinned, her nose crinkling up. "But, sir, it is the professional thing to do. You are my training officer, and I should address you prop-"
Whatever the rest of her sentence was meant to be, Sam didn't wait to find out. He dipped his head down to hers, sliding his lips over top of her mouth mid-word. He felt her freeze for a moment, but when his other hand rose to her shoulder, she relaxed, returning the pressure of his lips against hers. He was ever so thankful that she hadn't pulled away ... he was taking a big enough chance as it was. There were rules for a reason, but he just couldn't resist her any longer.
After what seemed like several hours passed by, Sam slowly pulled away, leaving one of his hands on her wrist while the other slid back down.
When she regained her ability to speak, Andy asked, "So, then ... what would you like me to call you?"
He grinned back at her, his hand guiding hers to put the key into the lock. "How about 'Sam'?"
She nodded, measuring him up. "Only if you call me 'Andy'."
The lock clicked free, and with the added pressure from both of them, the door swung open. "Works for me," he stated, and then felt himself being pulled into the apartment.
She called him many things that night, but for now, 'sir' was off the menu.
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The end.
I know, I really need to start writing longer ones. I love writing this little scenes, but even I want something more substantial. I'll get on the wire with my inner muse and ask her what's up ...
So, 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 ...!