This is my very first fanfic and of course I'm super nervous to post it! So please keep that in mind when you read it and if you review. Thank you!
This is based loosely on a 4x01 behind the scenes video from a fan, hence the running and red van (which are the only visible things from the video.) Maybe what I would like to see happen in the opening scene of 4x01.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue...if I did...Sam & Andy would have hugged at any point in the three seasons it has been on air.
Sam mentally counted every other step as the pounding of the pavement resonated in his ears, it was either listen to his steps, or listen to his thoughts. He wasn't a fan of his thoughts lately. Step, touch, step, touch, his black Nikes gripped the damp asphalt, shining from the early morning rain. It was cold and he didn't wear a jacket. His pace quickened and the sharp wind slapped his face and burned his nose.
Next time wear a jacket, he thought to himself. Or better yet, just go lift weights, or box, or subject himself again to the stupid yoga class he took last month. Now that was embarrassing, even more embarrassing is that it helped. No way in heck would he admit to anyone he took that class. It was so out of character for himself and he knew it. There's no way he would ever live that down if Oliver found out. He just broke one morning and needed to do something, to feel something other than regret. Sam didn't know if she would appreciate the gesture when she got back, but he knew it wouldn't hurt to tell her he tried. Dumb yoga class and the calm, collected instructor. If he wanted to center himself he would just go have drink at the Penny, or two, or seventeen. It surprised him though, the way he didn't exactly hate the class (just hated that he was there.) He oddly felt calm, he felt peaceful for once, he felt...close. To what exactly? It took him a few lonely shifts to figure that one out. He felt close...to her. He finally did something that she had wanted him to do months ago. "Dumb man," he chastised himself. How stupid was he to not go with her when she asked him the first time, or the second time. How stupid was he for holding hostage the three little words she needed to hear, only to unleash them when it was too late. He should have told her, every day since he met her. He should have taken her on a real date and asked her to move in with him and given her his keys back...for as long as they both shall live. His thoughts betrayed him again.
So now he runs...and he hates it. It hurts his knees. But at least it doesn't remind him of her. They never ran together, unless you count running after criminals and that doesn't exactly count as sharing a relaxing hobby together. Running doesn't make him feel close to her, not in the slightest. The opposite really, he runs to disconnect. To leave what happened almost 6 months ago behind...no, almost 8 months ago really. Running is good. Boxing on the other hand...well thats a dumb activity too. The first time they boxed together he got to see smiles on her face that he had never witnessed before and it completely unnerved him. His guarded heart experienced her laugh and tease, her smile finally breaking through and her pony tail bobbing with every swing. He laughed too, harder than in years as she didn't hold back and punched him full on in the stomach. He stumbled a bit, catching his footing again, shocked that she actually made contact.
Got cha, the look on her face said it all, staring him down with one eyebrow raised. Get me again, his eyes played back.
Shoot, there goes being able to box ever again.
Step, touch, step, touch...he quickens his pace, focusing on just putting one foot in front of the other. His shorts move with the wind and his knees not only throb, but they start to freeze. So do his ears. Of all days to dress like it was Summer weather. He ran empty, without hinderance, cell phone left at home because it was his day off and no one would need him. At least no one that he had a desire to take care of. This was the epitome of alone time, something he was getting really good at over the past 6 months. Of course he knew exactly how to be a loner...er...alone...but that was before she came along. She showed up and infuriatingly caused him to need her. His thoughts became flooded with the biggest mistake of his life...letting her go. He was telling the truth, he thought it was the right thing to do. He was just going to go back to how he used to be and she would find someone else. She'll focus on her career and he won't get anyone else that he loved killed. The problem was, he didn't know how to go back and goodness knows he had tried.
He now knows what he would have done differently, what else he could have said, what else he could have expressed. He's a very eloquent communicator...in the pretend world where she didn't go away and he didn't screw everything up. Imaginary scenarios have run through his mind countless times. They all end in him sitting at the Penny, alone...but not for long. In every single scenario, she shows up to have that drink with him. Because he would have convinced her, he would have said something else, something better, or he wouldn't have taken no for an answer. If only that was his reality, he would have taken her home, made her dinner, taken out her garbage and all the other sappy things men in love do for their women. He wanted to do it all. He would spend every day of the rest of his life making it up to her, if only she had showed up for that drink.
This man he had turned into was such a stranger to him. At times he was relieved she wasn't there to make him talk. He knew that talking was the next step and oh how he wanted to have just a big, long, drag out, talking fight with her. He would tell her everything. Not a clue as to how he would do it though, Sam Swarek actually wear his heart on his sleeve? This feeling of being totally exposed, blood pumping through his chest at the speed of light, willing and able to let someone in, to let her in, was the scariest thing he's ever encountered.
His pace slowed as he passed another runner with a dog. "A dog," he sighs, clenching his jaw and nodding to the passerby. "I could have said so much, but I talked about getting a dog." He let his mind wander to her face when he rambled about getting a mutt together. The smile flashed across her face, quickly, then left. There it was, a tiny trace of hope.
She didn't mind the idea of getting a dog together...together. He let his thoughts remain on that smile, the curve of her lips and the line of her cheekbone. The cheekbone that was beginning to bruise from being attacked earlier in the day. He wanted so badly to put his hand on her face, rub his thumb across the ache and kiss the past 6 weeks away. "Why didn't I?" he says aloud, in a whisper, like he doesn't believe it himself. Perfect opportunities missed in an instant, never to be redeemed. The tight ache in his chest is overwhelming, he realizes it's not from the cold hair being sucked into his lungs.
A familiar van drove up beside him, slowed to Sam's running pace and the driver rolled down the window.
"Hey Sammy! Why are you running? Aren't you getting too old for this?" It was Oliver, checking in no doubt. Ollie even mentioned seeing a shrink at one point which really shook Sam up. Wow, he was that bad huh? Just the suggestion alone woke him up from his lovesick stupor. Oliver was a good friend, in fact, he was the one to help find out exactly where Andy was (since Luke wouldn't reveal a word to Sam). After finding out her whereabouts, Oliver was the one to physically hold Sam back and be the voice of reason. "She'll be back," he would say to him, a hand outstretched, blocking the driver's side door to Sam's truck. He had her address, he knew what the op was, he could go to her right now. Oliver met his eyes with a convincing intensity, "She's ok Sam, safe even, and she's changing, growing, and I would suggest you do some growing up too." Shoot. He wasn't joking when he said Oliver needed his own talk show.
"You don't have your cell phone?" Shaw called out from the moving vehicle.
"Nope, day off," of course Ollie already knew that.
"Ok, well, I've been trying to get ahold of you all morning...so...um..."
Sam saw a look of genuine care and concern on his friends face and it caused him to stop running and walk towards the car. He brushed the sweat off his brow with the hem of his shirt, waiting for his friend to speak. "What is it?"
"Nick's been made, Sam. I don't have the details but it all went down so fast that he couldn't get Andy out with him. We think she's ok and laying low, but 15 Division is suiting up now to go get her out and make the bust." Oliver cut to the chase, "Your wait is over brother, it's time to go see if it was worth it."
Jaw dropping to the pavement, hands perfectly still on his face and eyes sealed shut, Sam didn't know what to feel first. He had many options, fear being the emotion of choice. Or maybe it was sheer concern with a side of anger. Or joy with a side of terror. He'll go with confusion, that pretty much sums up everything having to do with that woman.
"Pick your jaw off the ground," Ollie quipped. "Go take a shower, you smell." Oliver sped off, not waiting for Sam to get in the car, it was his way of torturing his friend, making him run the half mile home instead of driving him there.
Step, touch, step, touch...in triple time. Sam ran like he enjoyed it. He ran like he was running after a criminal, or a new dog that had gotten loose from the yard, or towards the woman he loved who was in danger. He had one last half mile to think whatever he wanted to think, or not think if that is what he wanted to do. After this he would happily enjoy every waking minute of every day listening to her talk, over think or analyze. Who was this man running at a sprinter's pace? In the first time in 6, no, 8 months he felt different, changed. Whether he could express those emotions when it came time was another issue. For now, he just ran. Ollie met him at his house and encouraged him to slow down but to no avail. Sam Swarek had two switches and those were respectably, on or off. Thankfully he had switched to "off" for the better part of the last 6 months. If not he may have done something stupid, like burn Andy on purpose. He didn't truly believe Sam would do that, but in a moment at the Penny of inebriated vulnerability, Sam had expressed how easy it would be to just drive over and get her. The next day Sam applied to take over Jerry's place and was made detective shortly after. At least if he was a detective and not driving a squad car around all day in a uniform, he wouldn't be tempted to go find Andy and just "check on things" under the devise of a friendly police call. Sam couldn't believe the insane notions that went through his head while she was gone. There was one thought though that truly scared him more than anything, a thought that immediately made his heart pound and hands sweat like they did on his first day as a rookie, the thought that she simply didn't love him anymore.
Oliver was waiting at Sam's house, leaning up against his car, arms crossed feigning impatience. Sam made it home in half the time Oliver predicted and with a smile plastered to his face. "Oh brother," Ollie shook his head at the site of his friend. He had never seen Sam like this before. It was evident how he felt about his rookie and absolutely unnerving to see the big, mysterious, silent Officer Swarek, in love. "You're in deep trouble, man." Sam just smiled, like he knew exactly the kind of trouble he was in and was 100% alright with it.
Oliver decided to wait patiently outside for Sam to get cleaned up. Sure he could have gone on to the station, but something about the mischievous smile on his friend's face told him to stick around. Ollie was there for the beginning...he was sure as heck going to be there for the end...or maybe it was a 2nd beginning? No wait, it was their 3rd. Oh forget it, who really knows what is going on with those two. He just liked seeing his friend experience what he has with his own wife. 6 months had changed a lot and Oliver was happier than he had ever been. So he leaned up against his car and sipped his steamy cup of coffee from the nearby cafe.
Maybe a solid 8 minutes passed when he was jolted from his thoughts by a door being abruptly pulled open and instantly slammed shut. Big pounding steps filled the air as Sam bounded down the front walk way, hair dripping wet and bag slung over his shoulder.
"What are you still doing here?" A confused look passed over Sam's face.
"Get in," Shaw commanded, using his best T.O. voice. Sam, looking defiant, waved a hand toward his truck. "Nope, you can't drive right now. I know you and as a cop...I don't want you to get any speeding tickets."
Sam, very uncharacteristically, didn't argue.
Sam opened the van door a little too hard, looked apologetically at Oliver and slammed the door shut a little too loudly. "Slow it down," Sam said to himself, recognizing a shift in his usually calm and collected self.
Or maybe that was the problem the whole time, he was too calm and collected. He was wrecked and 6 months hadn't changed that. He looked over at Oliver while his friend started the van and pulled away from the house. Ollie peered over at him with the corner of his eye, "Oh brother...you are in soooo much trouble", his head shaking and eyes widening on the "soooo".
Sam grinned and spoke the words aloud, not arguing for a second. "Yeah, I sure am brother. Let's go see what kind of trouble she's in too."