A/N: Well, this is my first shot at fic since "new Sam" came around, so... be gentle ;). Set in late or post-S5.
"Then why do you care!? Why do you give a fuck about how he's doing, Andy?" Sam's voice echoes through the dimmed bedroom as he paces, just enough to show her he's not okay. There are only a few times that Andy has seen Sam lose his cool like he is right now... and about Nick of all people.
"He's my friend!" Andy argues back immediately, a little exasperated. She reaches across the bed for his shirt before throwing it over her head and tugging it down. Post-sex snuggling time is fucking done-zo. Caput. One mention of Nick's improving emotional state during a conversation about work and then this. "I don't feel that way about him in that way and you know it."
Sam scoffs, shaking his head. He takes her lead and yanks a pair of sweatpants from the floor and up over his boxer briefs. "Right. Friends," he agrees with a smug tone.
"Yeah, Sam, friends."
"We -," he interrupts, gesturing between them from across the room, "…were friends too, remember that?"
Andy frowns in confusion, palms splayed out in front of her. "What does that have to do with anything right now?"
"Friends, Andy," Sam mutters, pausing to glance out the window before turning back around to face her. His voice is angry, but the look on his face is ... misery. Andy can't decide if she wants to punch him in the face or kiss him senseless until he calms. "You could've thrown that word in my face two hundred times in a row ... I still would've wanted you!"
"That's us," she narrows her eyes, sitting up further in bed. Sam's bed, that is. For the amount of times she didn't stay at Sam's place the first time around, they're making up for it now. "Not him. Don't even think about comparing."
"He wants you," Sam persists, eyes wide and his hands on his hips as he walks backwards. "How are you not seeing that?"
A groan leaves her mouth as she tips her head back against the pillows. It's not their first fight and it most certainly won't be their last. Doesn't mean it sucks any less this time.
"Sam!" she calls, as he's about to close the bathroom door behind him. He doesn't come back out right away, but he doesn't shut it either.
Deep down, Andy had known this problem would come up. She'd hoped otherwise, for the simple fact that there are purely platonic feelings from her end and she thought Sam knew that. What she had with Nick all those months ago was … good. Good like he's store-bought chocolate chip cookies. They'll work if you're craving something sweet and baked. It only becomes a problem when you know the amazing taste of gooey, extra chocolately, fresh-out-of-oven chocolate chip cookies and you can't help but compare with each and every bite. Those cookies, have always been Sam Swarek to her.
Nick had been what she needed at the time and he was there for her. At times Andy still feels guilty for breaking his heart like she did … but the love and almost magnetic attraction to Sam never left. Through everything, he was still the last person she'd thought of before she went to sleep at night and the only person that she ever saw a real future with. She wanted stubborn, smart-ass dark-haired babies, with dimples, that only one person could give her. And for the past six months there has been more than enough between her and Sam, physically and emotionally to make her forget any of her exes ever existed.
"Listen to me! Nick and I agreed it's completely over," Andy meets his eyes as he steps back into her view, drying his hands on a towel. She may not have romantic feelings for Nick anymore, but when you see your friend in tears over family issues, you hear them out and you help them out. She knows Sam would do the same in her position. "He just needs someone to talk to okay? So please... Stop this."
"Alright," he nods, pulling a shirt on and leaning against the door frame. "What if Marlo came to me because she wanted someone to talk to?" He asks calmly, much to Andy's shock. "What then?"
Her eyes drop away from his, feeling a sting inside her chest at the mention of her name. "I guess," she says quietly, contemplating, "I'd just have to deal with it."
His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "Really?" He probes, disbelief clear through his tone. "If you knew that beyond that chat, she wanted to get me naked...," Andy's fist clutches at the covers out of his eyesight, her brow furrowing just slightly. That wound has still not completely healed; Andy's no saint but Sam was supposed to be hers. She remembers that devastating feeling after returning from UC and seeming them and never, ever wants to feel it again. "So Marlo and I decide to go to the Penny and have a drink..."
"Sam," she warns, with a glare, but realizes that he's not being wholly unfair here.
Sam grins, bearing his teeth in a way that means he is the complete opposite of happy. Runs a hand through his dark hair and rests it on the back of his neck. "I just," he starts, and he's the only person Andy knows whose voice can sound soft and rough all at once. "I want you to hear what I'm saying."
"I do," Andy responds immediately, nodding. "He says he's moved on. He doesn't want to get me na-," she stops, gives up her fight when she notices the uncertainty in Sam's eyes. She's still a little nauseated at the thought of Sam and Marlo; she gets it. "Okay..."
With a deep breath, the covers are whipped open, the soles of her feet making a quiet sound as they meet the chilly floor. Sam's radiating with hot anger, Andy can feel it the closer she gets to him. She's mostly covered but doesn't even have the decency to put underwear on. As mad as he is, she still notices his eyes dip down. They just... Like 20 minutes ago... She still tastes him on her lips. 'Only cause we didn't get to do this for so long, McNally' he'd whisper in her ear when he'd wanna go for round two.
Andy wraps her fingers around his forearms and tugs to uncross the tight hold, his eyes moving to focus on something extremely interesting on the wall fourteen feet behind her. Without warning, she steps up close, wraps her arms around his torso and holds.
"You have nothing to worry about," she tips her head forwards and murmurs into the fabric of his t-shirt; smells the freshness of his laundry detergent and a hint of his body wash. It's still a little scary, this feeling like he has her heart resting in the palm of his hand and how little it would take for him to break it. But then his arms wrap tight around her too, feels an exhale from the deep expanses of his lungs, and thinks maybe he's feeling the same way right about now.
"McNally," Sam murmurs, warm breath hitting her cheek. Andy sighs, tries not to nuzzle herself in to his chest like a cat; he's that comfortable.
When Andy finally feels the tension leaving his shoulders, she continues. "I don't care what he wants, okay? I know what I want," Andy whispers a minute or so later, "And I know what you want."
"I know what he wants," Sam says suspiciously, but playfully as his fingertips run gently up the notches of her spine.
Andy grins, rolls her eyes teasingly and loosens her grip so she can step back and meet his gaze. "Stop thinking about that. Right now, he just needs a friend. An actual friend," she clarifies, when he scoffs.
Sam leans back against the wall, his hand cupping her jaw to tilt it upwards, planting a kiss square on her lips. "I still don't like him," he murmurs, his warm, warm mouth moving against hers.
Andy smiles, nipping gently at his lower lip to keep him close. "You don't have to," she tells him honestly. "Just trust me, okay?"
"I do, hey?" Andy glances up, leans back to place her hands against his solid chest. "I do trust you. Just...,"
"...don't like to think about it?"
Sam chuckles at that, palms rubbing slowly down her arms and ending with his fingers clasped through hers. "Pretty much," he agrees, his voice warm and apologetic, "Terrible memories," he admits with a small smile, but with a look of pain in his eyes that says it's no joke. Andy really dislikes that look… and would probably do just about anything right now to fix it.
Suddenly, he pushes off from the wall and spins them both around. The floor creaks quietly as he tugs her slowly towards the bed, the sadness in his eyes slowly turning into something along the lines of love. Andy grins and crooks an eyebrow as he climbs under the covers. "Get in here," he says finally, patting the bed beside him while he leans on his elbow.
His eyes darken when he sees the pleased look on her face; Andy watches and waits. Sam has this gaze, she's learned. One that can make smart women do stupid, impulsive things. Just yesterday, he (again) brought up the time that she propositioned him in a dive bar, during a UC operation; Andy feels the heat rising to her cheeks just thinking about the extent to which she did not care where she could be alone with him.
"What are we gonna do if I get in there?" She questions, crossing her arms against her chest, for more reasons than one. His eyes bounce between her midsection and her face, reminding Andy that she's buck-naked under his oversized Academy t-shirt.
Sam smirks; a mischievous smile like a kid who just got caught peeking at his Christmas presents, dimples and all. Andy wants to run her fingers through his hair, make a mess of it. "Lay here," he shrugs, nonchalantly.
Andy huffs a laugh, places one knee up on the bed, just high enough to make him need to look. Two can play at this game, she wants to say but doesn't. "Sure thing."
Sam doesn't even blink. "Whatever you want, honey," he teases, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.
"Whatever I want?" she asks with a roll of her eyes, whipping off her shirt before she climbs in. It's just easier to sleep in the nude, is what she'd tell him if he asks, but he doesn't. "I believe," she pauses to scoot closer to Sam, limbs sprawling across his body. "This is called cuddling," Sam hums quietly in approval, palm running along her back and then dipping low. "And you should learn to love it, Officer."
Sam laughs softly, his chest rumbling. "Oh, but I already do."
Andy grins laying her head against his shoulder. She slips her hand up inside his t-shirt to feel the warmth of his skin, and the smooth, soothing thump of his heartbeat underneath his ribs.
"Sorry for freaking out," Sam says a few minutes later, with a hitch in his breath when her thumb drags across the skin under his belly button. It's one of her favorite places on his entire body; gets him every single time. "I shouldn't've let it build up."
Andy feels a tug at the corners of her lips. It feels so good to talk it out. Even with how far they've come, sometimes she's still pleasantly surprised by how much more open he is. Sometimes she feels like a suck it, Sarah, is in order, too, for doubting him, but Andy would never say that out loud. "It's okay. I'm sorry for not talking about it earlier," she admits quietly. "I knew I should have."
"You care about everyone," Sam murmurs, slowly rubbing his foot against her not-totally-smooth calf. If they don't start moving in the next thirty seconds she is going to pass out completely. "And I love you for it."
"Saaaam," she groans, biting a little at his chest, suddenly not feeling all that much like sleeping "You know the l-word still gets me all..."
"Still?" He asks with feigned sincerity, his palm dropping a little too low on her back to be considered decent.
With a smile, Andy lifts her face up to meet his warm lips, eyes fluttering closed as he slips his tongue in to massage hers and her hand teasing the waistband of his sweats. "Yeah, and I kinda hope it never goes away."