A/N: One good thing about having to wait until June for new RB is that we have soooo much time before cannon smashes all our work to smithereens. So I thought I'd add my own take on what happens next :D

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to own Sam Swarek...I don't.


Sam senses his boss's tension and drops his grin. "Frank. It's me."

Best looks at him sadly. "I know. That's the problem." Sam takes a deep breath and braces himself for what he knows comes next.

"So we're clear, Sam, on what's happening and what the expectations are?" Best finishes his lecture (which had been preceded by a screaming shit fit—not that it was unjustified).

Sam nods his already hanging head. "Yeah, yeah. I got it." Takes a moment to figure out how the best way to ask what he has to. "I know that the misconduct means I can't talk to McNally while I'm suspended. But I was hoping I could have a day, maybe two, before that starts." When Frank opens his mouth to respond with hard eyes, Sam feels a "no" coming and cuts him off. "Frank. I need—" Voice catches. Clears his throat and tries again. "After the past 24 hours, I can't go home alone."

Sam stares at Frank, trying to telegraph what he cannot say: that he's not as okay as he's pretending, that he was scared for her, scared for himself, that he needs to feel her in his arms. He knows Frank would understand, but they're cops and they're men and they don't say these things. So he let's them into his eyes and hopes Frank can see.

Frank sees. "Fine. But Swarek, you have 48 hours and then no contact until you're reinstated." He softens then. " I really am glad we found you."


He's sitting in his truck, watching for Andy and willing the heat to kick on. He's momentarily grateful that he had the foresight to meet Boyd at the station all those many weeks ago so he has his truck here now. Now all he has to do is get Andy in it.

After a lifetime of second-guessing, he sees her exit the building, head down, shoulders tight. He throws the truck in drive and pulls up next to her. When she looks up at him, he sees something in her eyes that relaxes him just a little bit. "What happened?"

"I got suspended." She steps closer. "You?"

"I got yelled at. Then I got suspended." He reminds himself of a different conversation about holding babies.

A thousand thoughts flash through her mind and reflect in her eyes, but she must not know where to start because she says his name instead.

He offers (in a voice much more confident than he feels, he thinks), "You wanna try being normal together?"

She rewards him with a smile. "And how do we do that?"

He doesn't know the magic words, the ones that answer her question and all the questions she's not asking. So he goes with the truth. "I dunno. I have no idea." His heart tenses painfully until she smiles again and opens the door.

She's quiet for a few minutes (which of course makes him nervous because she's never quiet) and plays with the air vents. Finally it spills out in a rush. "Sam. You know I want to be here, but we can't. We really can't. Like, lose-our-jobs-can't."

"Andy."

"I know you love this job as much as I do—"

"Andy!"

"—and I can't let you—"

"McNally!" She stops. Looks. "I talked to Frank. We have 48 hours."

She frowns. "But why? I screwed up. Like, cosmically. I deserve whatever they throw at me."

He sighs and gets his T.O. voice, the one he uses to explain painful lessons learned and then tell her she's a good cop anyway. "We need 48 hours—I need 48 hours, first of all. Second of all, we both screwed up. But we also got lucky. We got our guy, and, yes, the whole operation went to shit, but that—" he looks at her "—that was not your fault."

She turns fully toward him, ignoring that they've stopped in front of his house. "Yes it was, Sam!" When she takes a breath to start listing the reasons why she should be blamed for everything from his beating to global warming, Sam cuts in.

"Can we argue about this tomorrow? I'd really just like to go to sleep right now."

Andy raises her eyebrows at him. "Did you really invite me over here just to sleep?"

He grins and leans in to kiss her. "Yeah. Isn't that noble of me, or something?"

She laughs against his lips. "We'll see," she says doubtfully.


She really had envisioned just falling asleep holding each other, but apparently being tortured revs a guy's libido. At least, that's the explanation she'd use if she wanted to feel noble. But the truth is, when Sam pulls her into his arms and she feels his body against hers, something uncoils within her. The attraction she feels at this moment is unlike anything she's ever experienced. Maybe it's backlash from all the worry or maybe she finally realized something when she thought she lost him. She'll figure it out later because now is not the time for thinking.

She melts into him and they hold each other for a short eternity. Then she lifts her face a bit and presses a kiss to his jaw. When she goes for a second, his lips meet hers. Their kisses turn serious quickly and her fingers grip his shoulders (where she's pretty sure he's not injured) and the upper part of his broken arm wraps around her neck and his good hand presses her closer. They kiss, not fast, but intense, and her emotions—or maybe his emotions—so overwhelm her that she feels faint, honest to God, and they push at each other like they're trying to occupy the same space.

When he pulls back, she gives a little sob, partly because she misses him already but also from relief—she doesn't know how much more she could have taken (and they're just kissing, for chrissake.)

Sam looks in her eyes as he takes her hand and she sees he's just as affected. This makes her feel better, braver. Ready for more. Which is good because he's tugging her back to the bedroom. Then he's kissing her again, good hand sliding up under her shirt and she helps him lift it over her head. She sees the problem undressing poses for a person with one functional hand, so she quickly discards her bottoms while he opens her bra one-handed. Before he can get too into ogling a naked McNally, she pushes him back until he sits on the edge of the bed.

His eyes lock onto her chest and he fights a smile (not hard enough, in her opinion). "We forgot to turn on the heat."

Her eyebrows go up again. "Do you want this to continue?" After he nods, "Then shut up." She brushes her fingers across the gash at his hairline, mood sobering. "Oh Sam." When their eyes meet, many important things pass between them, all boiling down to how grateful they are for one another in this moment. He silently begs her and she wordlessly agrees not to ask any questions, at least right now.

She oh so gently undresses him, fingers ghosting over bruises and cuts. He leans into her touch, eyes closed and uncharacteristically vulnerable, so she removes all traces of sadness from her expression. But she cannot help the hiss that escapes when she sees his leg. She's kneeling to pull everything off at his feet, so she leans forward and kisses the ugly bruise blooming over his thigh. His hand smoothes down the back of her head, resting on her neck as she kisses her way back up to his face.

When they kiss again, the intensity hasn't lessened a degree and her need for him threatens to overwhelm her. Her eyelids flutter in an attempt to maintain consciousness as she follows him up the bed. She's lying on his chest, knees on either side of him. He kisses her hard and she clutches at him with shaking hands. She's breathing fast and shallow and swears she's melting into him. Then he's inside her and they're pressed together from hips to forehead, looking in each other's eyes and breathing each other's breath. And for the hundredth time she thinks how intense this is. After a long, perfect moment of just being a part of each other, Andy shifts her hips. She doesn't sit up and she doesn't break eye contact. She keeps moving until she's driving them both crazy. Sam's hand squeezes her hip and when he whispers her name, she breathes it in. Her motions become frantic and they both spill over the edge in a burst of light.

When they come back down, Andy rests fully on top of Sam with her knees drawn up on either side of him. She pants into his neck and can feel his voice rumble when he is finally able to speak. "Ho. Lee. Shit." Andy nods in agreement. She enjoys the feel of his hand running across her back until she gathers enough strength to roll to the side.

They look at each other for a bit longer. Finally, Andy (of course it's Andy) breaks the silence. "Sam. That was…" shakes her head because the words she was going to use are inadequate. "I've never felt anything like that before."

Saying that, on top of what just happened, makes her feel more exposed than walking into parade naked. But she's not surprised when he steps off the ledge with her. "Me neither." And he kisses her, so softly and sweetly that her eyes drift closed. He chuckles and pulls her into his chest. "Sleep, Andy."

"You sleep," she mutters belligerently (and sleepily). "You're not the boss of me."

He laughs. "I'm going to sleep too," he assures her. When she doesn't respond, he pulls back to look at her face. She's asleep. He presses a kiss to her forehead and closes his eyes.


Please, please let me know what you think. I have part of the next 48 hours written if you all would like to read more. I also have an idea for a longer story with actual plot if people are interested. As always, let me know what I need to do better!