A/N This quick number was inspired by a post from angelflower over on TWC who wondered about what might happen in 4.2.

It is therefore based on some very vague SPOILER information that there is an intense scene between Sam & Andy that takes place in his truck during that particular episode. (Given barely any of this scene actually takes place in the truck, I would say it is no spoiler at all).

I have to confess that the following words kind of just spilled out because this got stuck in my head. It's NOT a scene that I necessarily want to happen. It is pure speculation of one possible way (out of 20million) that things could go. I also think the show scene will be more conclusive – temporarily anyway – but the flow of this story leant itself to being more open-ended than anything.

Apologies for the occasional curse word. But I do think it's one that Sam thinks quite a bit to himself.

Warning: Nothing light and fluffy here, so I'd recommend you don't read it if you don't want the angst. (This could be my one and only attempt at that particular genre, so here goes).

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue

THE RIDE

Exhausted.

That's what Andy is.

Three days back on the beat, and she's finally realized that maybe Luke was right after all.

There should have been more than five days break between the UC debriefing, and her official return to 15.

It's not that today has been harrowing even.

(The only thing harrowing about it was that she was paired with the new TO, Cruz –

Andy curses Nick for having the good sense to take the week off.

She really could've done with a friendly face today, yesterday…and the day before.

Could've done with someone that knew how to fill the void she was feeling –

Well. Could've done with someone encouraging her to take the first step toward what would fill that void.)

Everything that was once familiar here feels different.

Possibly is different.

Including her.

She slams the door of her locker shut, earning a glance from another unfamiliar face –

The new rookie.

Andy stares back at the eyebrows arced and aimed her way. Thinks about 'fresh paint' and swallows a lump in her throat.

Exhausted.

That's what Sam is.

Five days solid of working a homicide that makes his blood boil.

Three of those days have been extra hard work –

Steadfast attempts at not thinking about what McNally's return means.

Long days and late nights of paying extra attention to the easier details that have been laid out in front of him. Details that he can make at least some sense of, ones that have no impact on the rest of his life –

Well. Minimal impact. Short-term at least. He'll punish himself with the workload now. Focus on closing this case before it's too late.

He picks up his mobile and stares at the screen.

The message has been sitting there for more than half an hour. Ever since Nash gave the instruction in person.

Go home. Rest.

(His partner on this case may be showing some extra concern since Andy came back. She doesn't push Sam to talk though. Nor does she give any McNally-related advice. The only advice Nash has ever given to Sam:

Take care of yourself.)

He flips the file in front of him until it closes, picks it up and puts it inside the desk drawer.

He scrubs a hand over his face once, pausing to rub at his eyes.

Confused.

More than ever before.

That's what Andy is.

Her feet are planted and frozen to the spot in the pit. They have been for minutes.

She stares up into the dim office, continues watching Sam clear through the glass.

She only knows her heart has continued to beat because she can hear it.

They've said barely a word to one another in the past 72 hours (read: 576 hours). She remembers every word he said before that though, and every word since:

'Congratulations, McNally. I heard you did an awesome job.'; 'Glad you're back, Andy. Glad you're safe'.

(It was one conversation that started on the first day; the two of them literally bumping into one another at the coffee machine –

Sam wasn't at parade that morning. Andy was on her way to catch up with Cruz. She'd stumbled back into him after a high five from Dov.

The two of them stood there just staring at one another until Sam broke the ice.

Andy only ever got to say 'Thanks…" before the voice of Cruz called out her name).

She's barely seen him since then.

When she has, it's been in passing and on the job –

She's wanted to call him, but hasn't.

(Every night after that simple coffee conversation, she analyzed the tone of his voice, his facial expressions, and his body language. She drove herself mad thinking the worst.)

Put simply: Andy expected, hoped, and wanted that he'd make the first move.

(6 months of wondering if she did the right thing, and every single day wanting – but not getting a message to him.)

She wonders where on God's earth that courage of hers is that Sam once said she had.

Confused.

More than ever before.

That's what Sam is.

He removes the hand from his face and peers down into the pit.

He watches her watching him, standing like a statue –

Much like he expects he is too.

He gives her the briefest upward corner curl of his mouth that he can muster.

He has no idea whether she might be waiting for anything else.

(Waiting. Fuck. Sam lets out a mirthless laugh that's silent. It feels good though. At least it releases a breath –

The past 6 months flash before him:

Nights at The Penny and letting himself be distracted by the company of Oliver, Frank, Nash –

Any-fucking-one.

Just so he could at least pretend that he wasn't waiting for her.)

Sam blinks his eyes with the steady dawn of realization –

He has always been waiting for her.

Sam has been waiting for her, as much as he has been waiting for himself…

For whatever the fuck it is that just needs to drop.

Hopeful.

Andy's blood pumps harder and faster, a tingling practically coursing through all her veins.

It's a small smile from him that she recognizes from many moons ago –

I'm there when it matters.

Andy hopes that's still true.

She has always, always wanted Sam there.

Even when she wasn't.

Andy's mouth twists on the thought.

Black and white flashes spark in front of her eyes; the times they've both walked away.

She wonders why that is and begins to feel anxious again.

Hopeful.

McNally's return smile is sad or regretful. At least one of those. Or probably both.

But it is a smile, of sorts.

And any smile that's ever crossed that pretty face has made Sam feel a sense of great hope.

He continues to watch on as the skeleton staff of the late shift moves around Andy, the occasional officer giving her a cursory glance.

He'd like nothing more than to tease her about how still she is right now. So still in fact, that it's almost not her.

(Sam has spent hours and hours of wondering about whether she's changed –

When he hasn't been distracted, of course).

He doesn't tease her though -

Whatever this is, they're in it together.

So. Sam decides the best course of action is an olive branch first.

He picks up the closest thing to a peace symbol that he has on his desk.

Slowly, he raises his hand so she can see the key to the truck in his hand.

Anxious.

If Andy wasn't before, she is now.

The key he gave her, the key he asked her to return.

The key she threw in his face.

Andy half expects him to throw it out the window right now.

But with the key, Sam's smile is a little bigger.

Only just, but it's definitely grown.

If she weren't so worried about how much either of them is still hurting, his signal with the key would've sent a flush through her body that was more like –

Anticipation than anything else.

(It's almost an automatic response from her anyway – basically her nerve endings ricochet in every direction with the sight of him looking at her).

She inspects his face and hand closely, lets herself see what he's trying to tell her for once in her life –

The key.

A ride.

Home.

Andy doesn't really know what any one of those things will look like, but she cannot not take the journey with Sam, so –

She nods her head slowly, but definitely.

And then waits for him to walk down.

Cautious.

Sam takes all his next steps carefully.

It gives him a chance to think about what he wants to tell her, and –

What he thinks she might say.

When his brain blurs, he decides to just focus on one step at a time.

Nothing else.

Andy follows Sam's every step with her eyes.

It's a slow and steady path that he is taking, and it's definitely not the shortest route there.

She purses her lips and tilts her head as she continues to follow his footsteps.

Andy would really, really love to call out to him here –

Give him a good ribbing about 'time and space'. Only –

Then she doesn't.

No way is she gonna do that.

Not with the way he just held up his key -

"You need. Ah. Wanna ride home?" Sam keeps his voice quiet and neutral with the question. (Trips over the 'need', because it sounds so presumptuous).

He has stopped a long two steps away from her, the space between them an unfamiliar canyon. If Sam dares to look down, he's fairly certain it will be dark and deep.

So, instead he looks straight ahead.

Right into her eyes.

Andy nods back like when he held up the keys. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd. Like that a lot."

Sam nods, a thousand ships launched in his chest just by the sound of the rough edge to her soft, throaty voice.

After a beat, he points to her gear-bag without looking away from her eyes. "Want me to carry that for you?"

He swallows at the way McNally bites hard on her bottom lip and then shakes her head gently. "I got it."

The walk to Sam's truck is in silence. The crunch to gravel beneath their feet is the only sound on the clear, warm night.

Andy throws her bag on the back seat out of habit as soon as Sam hits unlock. (Almost takes it out again when she wonders if would be best to do something that's so simple, differently).

She turns on a heel to see that Sam's opened the passenger side door. One strong arm of his is stretched out on the top of it, and the look on his face is –

Well. Andy is not exactly sure what it's about.

"You, ah. You wanna drive?" Sam asks deadpan. Almost. Almost deadpan Sam asks that. He definitely ran his tongue across his bottom teeth though, like maybe he was trying not to smile.

Andy probably should try to be cross at him…the way he's gone down the track of disguising the situation with some humor again –

But it's impossible for her to feel angry in this moment.

There's more to his face than making light of their respective control issues. It seems like the offer is as genuine, as it is a tease.

She snorts out a laugh helplessly.

Her jaw goes slack and she rolls her eyes.

Eventually, she shakes her head at him. "Nah. I'll let you this time."

Sam winks at her and gestures into the empty seat, making sure she's settled before he closes the door.

He takes his time walking around the front of the truck and then hops in himself.

He can see her out of the corner of his eye following all of his moves; the way he starts the truck, checks his mirrors, and puts it into reverse.

"You're a detective now," McNally tells Sam – conversationally and all.

Sam stares out at the road for a while to make sure they're moving forward before glancing over at her. "Yeah. Thought I'd try a change."

He doesn't take his eyes off Andy until well after she's bitten her lip.

Nervous.

27 shades of nervy, Andy is again.

Sam wanted change. Wants change.

Most likely that means he made his decision the minute she left.

God. In hindsight, he's probably happy she left.

Andy's chest constricts as she realizes now –

She's lost him for good.

And. Not that she regrets her decision to pursue her career –

But. She does regret leaving Sam.

She nods her head, tries to clear the thoughts. Tries to force her brain to rationalize that the fact he didn't wait for her, is a sign that he didn't mean all those things he said –

"You happy to be back?"

Sam's question snaps Andy from her downward spiral into oblivion – thoughts of the fact she'd end up like some sort of Elaine Peck or something. Great at her job, but always making the ultimate sacrifice: abandoning what she loves the most.

Andy looks at the road in front of them, the headlights and shadows. She watches the colors of the city as they flash and blur around them, changing all the time.

"I…it's taking some getting used to, I guess." It's barely a whisper that she responds with, and even then she's not convinced it was the right answer at all. In a way, she misses life as a different person. Misses the consistency of the rules she had to play by in every minute, as well as the danger involved.

She also misses the consistency of Nick.

The guy may have his own demons, but he was good to work with –

A good friend to have on days that Andy struggled with the danger and rules.

She imagines someone like Nick is a very good boyfriend. Well, sort of. Except for the fact that he perhaps likes rules a little too much –

Also: he can be very bossy and extremely annoying. And yet at other times, too eager to please.

Andy looks across at Sam and studies the way his hands grip the wheel. He's looking at the road again, an unreadable expression on his face. "But it's good to be back amongst everything that I've missed."

Sam blinks at the road and doesn't ask or say anything else.

There have been a war of emotions building up inside of him again as he's been watching the road.

He wants to sit her down and ask her a thousand questions; whether she would've gone for that drink if it weren't for the op; whether she thought about him while she was gone; whether she had moved on….

But. Whatever is ticking inside of Sam has him fearing all the answers –

Even if she was just making some inference to having missed him.

It's the inference that he decides to hold on to then. The vague, loose, hopeful possibility that Andy missed him.

"Well. You've been missed too, McNally," Sam tells her carefully, casting his eyes to her face again as he pulls to her kerb.

Frustrated.

That's what Andy is at Sam's neutral tone.

She scans Sam's features and tries desperately to read something that just isn't there.

He is looking back at her, but with that same silence he gave her when there was nothing left to say.

She wants to ask him out and out a thousand things, and make him answer her; did he miss her; did he mean what he said before; what does he feel for her now.

But. She can't bring herself to. She fears what the answers might be.

Instead, Andy holds tight to the door handle, deciding to spend another night of pretending that she's not completely and utterly still in love and devoted to him.

She yanks at the thing eventually, unclasping her belt at the same time. Makes her way onto the pavement and closes the truck door, managing to hold back the slam.

She thinks of all those nights ago, her crying in the rain and Sam's stony silence afterward…

And the whole memory crushes Andy's insides.

She stands on the sidewalk looking left and right and ends up doing real well not to just bolt up the stairs.

Sam hops out of the drivers' side; feeling more than agitated by the sudden turn in events.

Christsake. He has no idea what's going on in that head of hers right now.

He opens and closes the back door to the truck and pulls out her bag. He walks the few metres to where she's standing and blows out a breath. "You might need this."

Andy glares at the bag and then up at Sam.

He looks at her more closely then, realizes she has some tears in her eyes.

His own features school to something softer, the pain of her leaving him being swallowed up by whatever is hurting her now –

"Andy, what- " Sam's voice is in danger of growing shaky as he puts one of his hands light on her arm.

"Did you miss me? You said I was missed. But. Did you miss me?"

And Sam right then and there, is swallowed up by everything that he's ever felt for this girl.

He looks to the heavens, and then to the ground.

Eventually, he looks back up to her and searches until they lock eyes.

"I missed you." Sam breathes, a weight off his chest. "Of course I missed you, Andy."

He looks away from her momentarily, trying to think of what comes next.

(Missed her. Loves her. Adores her. Wants her –

Wants her to want him, but –

There is no denying there is still a whole lot of hurt).

Andy sees her pain reflected in Sam's in that moment.

She nods and continues to hold back her tears.

"I missed you too."

(Missed him. Aches for him. Loves him. Adores him. Wants him –

Wants him to want her, but –

There is no denying there is still a whole lot of hurt).

They stand on the pavement, two steps and what Andy is pretty sure is a deep, dark canyon between them.

The only thing stopping her from falling is the way Sam holds her eyes with his.

After minutes of watching and waiting they slowly make their way up to her apartment, Sam still with a tight hold on her bag.

This walk is in silence also, the air a different kind of charged.

Sam watches on as McNally unlocks her door and then turns to him.

Her voice is the kind of sincere and vulnerable that cracks a chink in Sam's heart. "Where do we go from here?" There's a slight shrug of her shoulder to go with it, a gesture that makes her look infinitely young.

It's all of that that makes Sam realize, if he really does want things to be different…better…he has to step up to the plate.

He puts her bag down on the floor and steps in close to her body. He puts his arms around her in a tight embrace. "I don't know, I have no idea…" he whispers into her ear and almost kisses the spot. "But…uh…" He steps back to give them some space.

"Tomorrow after shift," Sam starts, hopeful: "Will you let me buy you a drink?"

Andy smiles bigger than she has in the past 576 hours.

She has no idea what will come next either. None at all.

But what she does hope for is that the universe gives them another chance.

"I'd really love that."

End.