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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: I'll try to get back to my multi-chapter fics after this, but I keep getting sidetracked by all these one-shots. I'd curse my muse, but she's been so kind to me ...

Anyway, this fic is pretty self-explanatory: Sam and his jealousy. I might do a rebuttal fic, from Luke's POV.

I hope you guys like this one, I know I'll love writing it.

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

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He really needed a hobby. A distraction, anything to take his mind off the constant whir of emotions that plagued him. He hated that such a ... well, jerk/tool/douche bag, pick your unpleasantry, that's what he was. Anyway, he hated that someone like that had won her over.

He'd done his best to open her eyes to what he was really like. Well, maybe not his best. But he had told her about his yearly rookies ... wasn't that enough? Surely that would have been enough to make her see the light? She couldn't seriously still believe that Callaghan was a good guy? Well, he wasn't bad, but he wasn't good for her. He would just use her and move on, if only she could see that.

Sam sighed, swirling the bottle about in his hands. The more he thought about it, the more agitated he became. Well, maybe agitated wasn't the right word. He was ... okay, fine. He was jealous.

He wanted what Callaghan had gotten so easily. Not that Andy was an object to be acquired ... but he'd gotten her. He'd come in and swept her off of her feet.

It wasn't as though he had the right to be complaining. Even if he'd made a real effort for her affections, the restrictions of their working relationship prevented him from really doing anything about it. Their night together - while brief and interrupted - was more than he should have had in the first place. He couldn't take it any further without risking their careers.

But that didn't stop him from wishing that things were different. No ... nothing could stop him from thinking about her, and what they were likely doing at his cabin. It was a damaging thought, one he wished he could rid his mind of. He didn't want those images in his mind, they hurt too much. They filled him with both sadness and anger.

Callaghan got to hold her, got to touch her, got to kiss her. He got to listen to her laughter, and be the one to make her laugh. He got to see parts of her that Sam never did ... and he didn't just mean the 'bedroom' parts. There were pieces of a person that you only ever got to know when you were in an intense relationship with them. He wanted to know those pieces, and hated that Callaghan would.

Sam paced about his apartment, wishing that the night would speed up, and they would return from his cabin already. He was climbing the walls, thinking of what was happening there.

He hated this. He wished that his feelings for her could just go away. He wished that he wasn't filled with the urge to tear that damned cocky smile of Callaghan's pretty-boy face. He wondered if it was a bad thing that the idea of doing just that was very appealing to him.

Sam groaned aloud, wishing someone would just club him over the head ... he wouldn't get to sleep otherwise.

This whole jealousy thing? Pretty much the worst thing he'd ever experienced. Worse than being shot, worse than having his tonsils removed, worse than walking in on his parents ... yeah, it was pretty much worse than all of that.

Sam moved to the fridge, grabbing another beer out of its depths. Maybe if he had just one more, he could forget about the feeling that was gnawing away at him from the inside. Maybe.

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The end.

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

I'm really working on getting out of this short-story funk. We'll see how it goes.

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

Until next time ...!