Hey guys! I've been so incredibly busy with life, and coupled with a horrible writer's block, this week has been pretty bad, though last night's episode pretty much gave me more inspiration!
Here's a quick drabble on Sam's thoughts after Andy left with Luke at the end. Did anyone else want to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she had some sense knocked into her?
Anyways, hope you all enjoy!
Oh, and reviews are always welcome - I live for them! =)
Sam knew that it was only a matter of time.
It was only a matter of time before he really let his anger get the best of him. The re-training fight with Callaghan had been just the tip of the iceberg. If he had let himself do what he had really wanted to do to that smug bastard...well, Best would have kicked him off the force immediately. Yes, it had felt good to completely beat the shit out of him, but the blow he had felt when he had looked at Andy afterward was an unexpected sucker punch in the gut that exceeded any pain he had felt while grappling with Luke.
It was only a matter of time before he let his emotions gain the upper hand. He shouldn't have brought her coffee that morning. He shouldn't have thrown it away. He shouldn't have felt like a puppy, eager to please her in any way possible. And he shouldn't have been surprised that she was still with Luke.
He wondered if the detective had any idea of what had happened on that night. The way that Luke had gone out of his way to make sure to announce that he and Andy were going up to the cabin to not go fishing made him almost feel like they were back in high school, with the quarterback bragging about booking the hotel suite for prom night.
Arrogant son of a bitch, he thought. He took another sip of his scotch, the feeling of the burning liquor as it slid down his throat a welcome sensation. It made him realize that he could still feel. That he was indeed alive, and that everything did not revolve around his rookie.
He looked around the bar, spotting an attractive redhead in the corner. He smiled and started to get up from his stool. He looked at her again, and felt the wind knocked out of him.
The red hair had turned to brown, with the brilliant green eyes now a deep, soft chocolate. The round, pleasant face had transformed into the high cheekbones and full lips of Andy McNally.
He gritted his teeth together, slowly sitting back down. He stared into the golden liquid in his glass.
It was what it was. She had thrown his words back in his face, each syllable another well-aimed punch.
It was only a matter of time before he had to face himself. The only thing in the world that scared him more than his grandfather was himself. And the fear he felt towards Thomas Swarek was a hell of a lot more healthier than the fear he felt towards Samuel Swarek.
It wasn't that he was scared of who he was, per say, it was that he was scared of what he could become. The fear of letting his anger get uncontrollable. The fear of failure. And the fear of falling in love.
With Monica, it had been easy. It had just been sex. He hadn't had to try with her. He didn't feel the need to impress her, or be a better man. She hadn't gotten past his barriers, and he liked it that way. She had tried, for sure, but he hadn't let her. He wasn't interested in her as a person. It had been the same with Brittney, and Laura, and every other woman who had been in his life.
Andy McNally was a whole other story.
He closed his eyes.
It was only a matter of time before everything came to light.
Right now though, he was content to drown in alcohol. If he swam deep enough into oblivion, perhaps tonight he wouldn't be able to remember what she looked like...sounded like...smelled like...tasted like.
Though he knew it would be only a matter of time before Andy invaded his senses again.