A/N: another little ficlet that kind of wrote itself during transit. This one tags 5.3, mainly I really don't like episodes that don't end with Sam.
Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue
There were more than a few minutes out of the past ten that Sam had been checking over his shoulder, wondering if he should go in there after them. See for himself that McNally wasn't attending to army boy's wounds.
There were also more than a few deep breaths Sam had sucked in. He knows Andy wants to work at things between them. Told Sam that a number of times this past couple of months-
("Can we go slow?" She asked him the morning after Sarah's talk about lemons.
"Figure things out one breath at a time," Sam agreed, held her hand extra tight).
"Collins okay?" He asks now as she comes up to his side, taking her spot on the vacant stool he's been protecting like it was their child. His voice wavered a little there at the end -
It's not that he liked seeing Collins beat to a pulp, but he sure as hell is over the moon Soldier Boy didn't win over the love of Sam's life.
"Says he'll get over it," she replies, twisting around on her new perch clockwise and knocking her knee around until it settles between both of Sam's.
"Looked pretty banged up," Sam remarks, not entirely ignoring the rush of blood that just warmed every inch of his body. His knees squeeze in so the warmth doesn't wear off.
"Yeah," Andy nods, eyes searching out Sam's. All in all it looks as though she's less concerned with Collins' ails, and more so with what might be going on for Sam. "But. It's nothing a steak won't fix," she continues, leveling with him. The fingers of one of her hands crawls through some condensation on the table...makes their way to Sam's wrist. His warm and her cool are a nice mix. "Apparently red meat makes everything fine."
Sam nods, fleeting images of Marlo pass through his mind. He wonders if she's doing okay. A twist in his stomach forms over his part in how black and blue her thoughts and feelings might be right about now. He hopes she's doing fine too. Hopes she's found her red meat.
He lifts the hand Andy's not holding, takes a sip of his beer. Decides not to ask McNally if she's sure about them. He knows she is. Knows he is. That's all that counts.
He points to the beer he placed on the table for Andy. "Speaking of, you ah, you want a side of food with your drink?"
Andy peers into the amber liquid of the glass, her stomach growls it's response. She grins and looks up at Sam. "Definitely," she continues to smirk. Clearly satisfied with everything that is in front of her now. "And, can I...Can I have some of whatever you're going to have?"
Sam raises an eyebrow, amused, and unabashedly fond. He pretends to mull it over, wanting to give in to whatever demands she might have, but also knowing he needs to take this one bite at a time. "How 'bout we get a few of the smaller dishes...share the whole lot?" He can't wipe the smile that seems to be fixed on his face these days. Doesn't want to.
Andy's mouth twists, a reaction to the bunch of butterflies that have joined her ravenous stomach. "Okay," she replies, no way on anyone's earth does she want to fight off any desire she has to spend more time with Sam.
"Okay," he confirms, knowing full well that his face is telling McNally (and the rest of the room) that he can't help but already be thinking about dessert.
Still -
He picks up the menu, hands it over to her. "You choose round one."
fin.