Hey guys! So this story is much darker than what I usually write, but I was in that kind of mood, and this story started forming in my mind, and I just knew I had to write it. The characters might be a bit OOC, but quite honestly, I can actually see them acting like this, if this situation ever presented itself.

Anyways, this is loosely based on the song 'Perfect' by Hedley, since I played it over and over again while writing this.

Please review, they make me so happy! And I really want to know what you all think of this story in particular, since I'm a bit nervous about posting it. Hope you all enjoy! xx

"What the hell is your problem?"

It wasn't so much of a question than an accusation. Sam's dark eyes flashed with anger, his voice low, and for a moment, Andy was scared.

They had had their share of fights before, but this time was different. This time, their well-aimed jabs and cynical comments had escalated into shouts and cursing. They had been going at it for half an hour, and Andy had almost forgotten what they were fighting about until he asked that question.

"You! You are my problem," she hissed, taking a step forward, her hands balled tightly into fists.

"I'm your problem? Christ Andy, what did I even do?"

What had he done? Many things, too many things really. He pushed her past her limit of patience every single day...he consistently stuck his nose where it didn't belong, especially on important matters...especially her and Luke...he scared her. Well, not actually him, per say, but what he made her feel. That was the real problem - he actually made her feel.

"Everything," she spat out, raising her chin in defiance, daring him to hurt her even more with his words.

"Do you want to know what my problem is, Andy?" He was half aware that he was entering dangerous waters with what he was about to say, but the adrenaline from the fight pumping through his veins made him throw caution out of the window. "You are."

"How dare you!"

"How dare I? You were the one who said it first, so why can't I say it back? 'Cause you are my problem. You're constantly a thorn in my side."

He didn't mean it. He didn't mean it at all, actually. Yes, she was a problem to him, but a beautiful, albeit neurotic, problem. A problem he didn't ever want to solve, a problem he never wanted to go away. But her words had hurt her more than he had thought, and so he spat her words right back.

How had they gotten here in the first place? The precinct was completely deserted, the black night outside enveloping the building in darkness, the harsh moonlight shining through the high window in the locker room making the room glow with an eerie light that made the room brighter than it actually was.

What were they even fighting about? Sam couldn't remember...and then Andy shifted her stance, the moonlight catching the diamond ring on her left hand.

"How could you even say yes, Andy? How could you?" His voice broke in anguish, the anger and heartbreak a thousand times worse now than it had been at the end of the shift, when Luke had gleefully announced their engagement to the entire 15th Division.

"I wasn't given much of a choice, was I? What else could I have said?"

"No!"

"What?"

"You could have said no. You should have said no. How could you?" He repeated the phrase, this time coating the words with venom.

"And what is it to you Sam? Huh? Why do you care so much?" She tossed her hair, the starlight bathing her in a gentle glow that almost brought him to his knees. She was beautiful. And he hated it.

"That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. You agreed to marry him because...just because? You don't love him, Andy, so why say yes?"

"I do love him!" She was crying now, desperately trying to be convincing. "I do!"

"Liar," he sneered.

She slapped him. Hard. He saw her mouth open in a wordless cry at what she had just done, like she couldn't believe it. His cheek burned from where her open palm had connected with his face.

"Hit me again, Andy! Go ahead, hit me! You can hit me a thousand times, and it won't hurt, because that - " he pointed to the ring - "that is what hurts the most."

"Why do you care so much?" she cried, silently begging him to answer, to take away her pain.

He couldn't answer. Try as he might, he couldn't make himself say the words. Those three little words that he meant so much. So he lied.

"I don't."

A strangled cry escaped from her lips at his words. He didn't care. He didn't care about her at all.

She physically hurt, her heart pounding in her chest, as if it had shattered into a thousand pieces that were being hurled out of her.

"I hate you!" she screamed, the words came out before she could stop them, said with such hatred that he stumbled back from the force of them, reeling from the meaning behind the words. Had it really come to this? Had he really driven her to the point where she hated him?

"What?" The question slipped out, as if he needed more confirmation.

"I said I hate you!"

"Andy," he whispered, broken.

"I ha...I h...hate..." she broke down, hot tears running down her face, her cries making it impossible to continue. She didn't hate him. She didn't hate him at all. She loved him. She would love him until the day she died. That was what she hated.

Seeing her in front of him, in such pain, broke his heart, shattering his angry resolve. He closed the space between them, pulling her into him. She pounded her fists against his chest, wanting to inflict as much hurt as possible, but the feeling of his arms around her eventually stilled her erratic movements. She clung to him, sobs racking her body, her face pressed against his neck, the fluttering of her wet eyelashes against his skin dissolving his composure.

His tears mixed with hers. They cried for friendship lost, love never spoken, chances never taken.

They cried for themselves, and for each other.

They cried for angry words spoken rashly and hard fists smashed into soft skin.

They cried for pain felt, for anguish felt, for desperation felt.

They stood there for what seemed like forever, wrapped in each others embrace, until eventually, their tears stopped falling. Still, they held on to each other, him rubbing her back in slow, steady movements, her breathing on his neck, reveling in each others touch.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, muffled as her lips moved against his skin, setting his nerves on fire with her unintentional kisses.

"Me too."

"I don't hate you."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He moved his hand up his shoulder, where her left hand was balled tightly around his shirt.

"Don't marry him." He gently slid the diamond ring off her hand and dropped it to the floor. "Please stay a McNally...my McNally."

"Okay." She shuddered against him as the gold metal hit the cold tile, the sound resonating in the air. Freedom.

"Will you come home with me?"

"Yes."

"Will you ever leave?"

"No. Will you ever leave?"

"No."