Without Words
She sits alone at a desk, the division quiet but for the few absent phone calls taken by whoever is at the front and muted murmurs of two officers passing through.
The lighting is dim, outside is cold and black. The paperwork spread before her scowls with lines and words which seem to blur together.
She wants nothing more than to curl in a ball and fall asleep, but she knows she will be unable to rest until the weight of her responsibilities has been lifted. Which means, the stack of paperwork will reach its death even if she stays until the wee hours of the morning.
With a strangled groan, Andy drops her head into her hands and knuckles her eyes. They've started to water and her wrist is protesting angrily.
She wishes she hadn't declined Nick's offer for help. They'd have been done by know, probably at their respective homes and asleep. Sight is always clearer after the fact.
As her fingers scrape across her cheekbones, the simple gold band is cool against skin and it makes a tiny smile grace her lips. At the moment, she is unsure where he is; last she heard, he and Traci were working on a double murder case on the outskirts of the division.
She doubted he would be back before she finished the mountain of paper cuts waiting to happen.
After nearly seven years on the job, she is well aware of the presence approaching from behind and doesn't start when a departing officer appears at her elbow.
Andy gives a friendly smile to the man, ignoring the pang of jealousy at the sight of comfortable civilian clothes and duffle, and says hello. Terry Long smiles back and hands her the object in his hand.
She can smell it from where she sits and is mildly embarrassed for herself when she starts drooling. She takes the cup from him and they exchange goodnights.
The first sip of warm coffee is heavenly. It's the perfect temperature and has just the right amount of cream. Idly, Andy wonders how Terry knew how she took her coffee when she spots the black and hasty writing on the protective slip of cardboard.
Lifting the cup close to her face, she brushes her fingers over the words and feels her heart swell.
Love you.
-Sam
Inside she melts, not even bothering to wonder how the man managed to pull this off. Ever since the day he gave her a promise, sealing it with a ring, Andy had been amazed at the depths of thought and care Sam could show her, without even being in the same room.
So, she rubs at her ring, drinks more of the coffee and attacks the stack of paper work with renewed vigor.
She has a feeling she will be paying him back later; they always do find a balance.
This is a pure oneshot; I will not be adding any more to this. It is light, fluffy and a perfect balance for my muse.
I do hope you liked though.
As you may have guessed, this is a future fic of how I could potentially see Sam and Andy years down the road. It's a hopeful outlook and it counteracts my withdrawl as we crawl through the hiatus (cursed thing).
Opinions and comments are gratefully accepted.