This is a post 5.06 one-shot. As a warning, to anyone who hasn't seen the episode yet, you may not want to read this. Thanks so much for reading!
Sam snaked an arm across the bed, opening one eye suspiciously when his hand landed with a dull thud on the other side of the mattress. Without moving anything but his upper body, he pushed up on his elbows and looked around his empty bedroom. Technically, he admitted to himself, it wasn't empty. The room was full of his stuff and looked just like it did every other morning when he woke up. It was just empty as far as the one thing that actually mattered to him—the one thing that should've been there but wasn't. Sam tried to ignore the seemingly irrational fear that she'd gotten up and left without saying goodbye. Given their new understanding, it seemed unlikely that she would've just taken off. Still, sometimes things looked different when the sun came up, and a small part of him worried that she might have had a change of heart.
When Andy appeared in the doorway, sporting a tousled mane of hair and a shy grin, he didn't even try to hide the relieved smile that quickly materialized on his face. At the sight of her leaning casually against the door frame, Sam's doubts instantly melted away. When he noticed the two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands, he inhaled deeply and acknowledged that the smell of freshly-brewed coffee in the air should have tipped him off to the fact that she hadn't gone very far. Adding to Sam's relief was the very welcome realization that she hadn't gotten dressed and showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. She was wearing her shirt from the night before and he noted happily that she hadn't even bothered to fully button it. She'd only fastened a few token buttons—barely enough to hold the shirt in place. As Andy pushed off of the door frame and walked toward the bed, Sam let himself appreciate the way her shirt skimmed lightly across her thighs, and he wanted to tell her to take her time.
"You thought I left," she accused him lightheartedly as she lifted one knee onto the bed. Sam's eyes traveled from the gentle depression her knee was making on the mattress to the bottom of her shirt, now riding up her leg in a very distracting way. If she hadn't been holding coffee in her hands, he was pretty sure he would've grabbed her and dragged her down onto the mattress with him.
"I knew you were around here somewhere," he claimed, not even convincing himself with his tone. There was no way she was buying it.
"Liar," she laughed. She set down the mugs of coffee on the night table and slid onto the mattress beside him. "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him as she curled up against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Except work in a few hours," she quickly amended.
"It's just gonna take some time," he predicted as he tightened his arm around her shoulder.
"You know, back in the day, you would've been just as likely as me to hit the door first thing in the morning. Maybe more so," she pointed out.
Sam sighed, realizing that her fears were just as strong as his. Strangely, he found that thought reassuring, because he knew that at least they were knee-deep in it together. They were both worried about getting hurt again. At the same time, they both wanted each other enough to work past those insecurities and hopefully build something more enduring than they had before. If the time away from each other had taught them nothing else, Sam knew it had taught them that.
Feeling inspired, he offered a suggestion. "Maybe what we need is a different approach this time around. Instead of constantly watching out for ourselves, why don't you look out for me, and I'll look out for you."
She tilted her chin up to look at him. Her face was serious but her eyes were smiling. "I like that," she agreed, leaning forward and kissing him softly. Thinking that he could easily spend the rest of his life with her tucked up against him, Sam positioned his hand on her jaw line and relaxed into a long, leisurely kiss. "Hold that thought," she announced against his lips, rolling away from him suddenly. "Just let me get a teeny-tiny sip of coffee before it gets cold."
"So in the list of priorities, I rank below coffee," he clarified as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow.
"Yep," she assured him. "But don't take it personally. You're a close second." She picked up a mug from the table and passed it to him. Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she crossed her legs on the mattress and claimed the other cup for herself.
As they drank their coffee in silence, Andy eyed Sam intently over the rim of her cup. It was pretty clear to him that she wanted to say something; he could practically see the wheels spinning. "Out with it," he finally told her.
"Out with what?" she asked with a look of false innocence.
"You know you're dying to say something, McNally," he observed wryly.
Smiling affectionately, the look that she gave him was both indulgent and amused. "I'm just curious . . . did you really think you'd be able to keep that whole thing a secret yesterday?"
"That was the plan," he noted, chuckling to himself. "I was doing everything I could to shake you loose, but you couldn't take a hint."
"Why would I do that?" she asked. "I mean, clearly something was bothering you. You didn't really think I was gonna ignore it, did you? You should've seen yourself, Sam. You were a wreck," she insisted, stifling a laugh as she raised the coffee cup to her mouth.
"Why wouldn't I be a wreck? You were hammering me with all those car games. I actually thought about dropping you off at the nearest bus stop and sending you back to the city."
"You secretly wanted me there," she said flippantly.
"I did not secretly want you there," he assured her. "But," he added before she could interject, "I'm glad you were."
"Me, too," she agreed as she set down her cup on the night table. Taking his mug out of his hands, she lined it up next to hers and slid down beside him in the bed again.
"Thanks for not letting me shake you loose. I needed to tell you about that stuff," he admitted as he ran a hand up and down her thigh absently. "I was just having a hard time jumping off the cliff."
"The takeaway from this is that your stubbornness is no match for my tenacity. In the future, you should probably just give in and let me have my way," she suggested playfully.
"Where's the fun in that? It would be too easy."
The mood shifted as her eyes got darker and a more pensive expression washed across her features. "Sam, I really want this to work."
"So do I. And it will because things are different this time," he observed, issuing the reassurance for himself as much as for her. "You're not getting away from me again," he promised. "You're my future."
Sam watched her as he said it, wondering if he'd offered up too much, too soon. His fears were quickly allayed, however, when she beamed at him, looking genuinely happy and fulfilled. It felt good to know that he was finally responsible for making her feel that way after all of the missteps and confusion.
"I really do mean that," he persisted. "Kids, pets, house with a big backyard . . . . I want all of that with you."
"I think you're probably breaking some kind of man code by bringing up all of those things so early in the relationship," she teased him.
"It's not early," he told her with a laugh. "This has been a long time in coming."
She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her. She was so close that Sam could feel her breath tickling his cheek as she asked, "You know I want all of those things, too, right?"
"I do now," he responded, feeling a warmth and security like he'd never known before.
"I've got one more thing for the list," she said. "The backyard needs to have a swing set. I always wanted one of those when I was a kid."
"Done," he agreed easily.
"Oh, and car games on road trips are absolutely mandatory," she added.
"That's two things," he grumbled, knowing that ultimately, he'd end up giving her whatever she wanted, even if it meant a lifetime of being trapped in a car with her playing "Twenty Questions" and "I Spy."