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A Sam/Andy fic.

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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Rookie Blue.

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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews on my other stories so far, you guys are amazing!

I actually got the inspiration for this one after writing my last story, 'Inner Ramblings'.

Just a short fic about how little time could do so much 'damage'.

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 was only five minutes. In a day with fourteen-hundred and forty of them in it, five minutes wasn't really all that consequential, was it? Like he'd said, it was what it was.

Okay, so he'd only said that because he didn't want Andy to know how infuriated he was that she was still with Callaghan. Maybe even slightly more than infuriated, it was hard to tell; he'd never felt this way about a person before, never in his life.

Sam wiped a hand over his perspiring forehead, pausing in his blows to his punching bag. He had a lot of tension to work out, and he'd only just begun.

It wasn't as though all that much had happened between them, anyway. It was just five minutes, he repeated to himself. If that. It all happened so quickly, and then ended so abruptly. If things hadn't been so awkward between them, he would have been inclined to believe he'd imagined it all.

Every pound on the punching bag equated to a moment that he'd spent with her that night. He kept replaying the scene over and over in his head; not only because he never wanted to forget it, but because he constantly asked himself if there was something that he could have done to change the outcome.

Punch - minute one: He opened his door, and there she was. He'd hoped she'd call, but now she was standing on his porch, looking at him with eyes that told him all he needed to know. She was hurting, she wasn't okay, she needed someone to confide in. He was just happy that she'd chosen him. He asked her if she wanted to talk, but she didn't. She pushed him against the wall, holding him there as her lips crushed down against his. He responded immediately, his hands coming up around her back and reveling in the feeling on her lips on his, her body pressed flush against his. The door closed.

Punch - minute two: She broke momentarily away from the kiss, her eyes shut tight. It was clear to him that she was struggling with herself, with her emotions, and he didn't know how else to reassure her. So, he ducked his head down, pressing his lips against the skin of her forehead. Her body moved towards his even more, and then she looked up at him. Her eyes were full of wonder and worry, and he just wanted to take away her pain. A hand came up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, and she leaned into his touch. The next thing he knew, her shoes were sliding off, and she was asking him where the bedroom was.

Punch - minute three: It was slow-going, but eventually they made their way down the hallway, and into the flickering light of his candle-filled bedroom. Each step down the long hallway was deterred by his hands gripping her hips to pull her towards him, or by her inability to wait, and pouncing on him once more. Twice they had to stop and fall back against the wall, getting so lost in each other's touch.

Punch - minute four: They stood by the foot of his bed, completely entrenched in one another. It was such a heady feeling to finally have her in his arms, even though he knew it was only about comfort. But still, she'd come to him for that comfort, and he wasn't going to deny it to her. Their clothing began to be removed, and every inch of skin that was revealed brought him that much closer to her. He never wanted to let go.

Punch - minute five: Horizontal now, they were pressed tightly together on his bed. His hips floated over hers, a flutter moving through both of their bodies every time the sharp curve of their pelvises ghosted across one another. It was heaven. Their lips, tongue and teeth collided against one another, and if his ears hadn't been distracted with the throbbing pulse of blood pumping throughout his body, he might have heard near animalistic groans at every parting of their lips. He couldn't believe it was finally happening. Her body fit against his so perfectly, it was as though they were made for each other; two halves of a whole. It was - the power was back on.

Punch! Sam stood back, sweating. The trip down memory lane wasn't exactly welcoming, especially when it got to the ending. If only the damn power hadn't come back on, he bemoaned internally. He had to wonder, though ... would it really have mattered? Would they have gone through with it, if all they'd had for light was candles? Would they have crossed that line, if his house had remained dark and silent?

He didn't know. What he did know, was that those five minutes, those short five minutes ... they were probably the best minutes of his life. No stress-relieving fight, no high-profile bust, no single moment had yet to compare to what it had felt like to hold her in his arms, however briefly.

Sam began to worry that Noelle might have had a point, when she'd said Sam looked like he was in love. He didn't know ... but he did know that if he ever got a chance to be with her again, there was no way he'd let her go after just five minutes. It wasn't nearly long enough.

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The end.

Well, what did you guys think? Like it, hate it?

I know, I really need to get back to my multi-chapter fics, but I keep getting these ideas for oneshots, and I just can't shake them!

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!