Hey everyone! Another story for today, inspired by the wonderful, fantastic, amazing stare-down between Andy and Sam during parade. The way he looked at her was so...gah, no words to describe it. Seriously, no words.

This will be a two-shot, with this first chapter Andy's thoughts, and the second chapter Sam's thoughts. (I love to write while character's thoughts as they evolve. It is so much fun.) As always, please review, I love you all so much for telling me your thoughts on my writing. I hope you all enjoy!

"Look at the person next to you. For a second, if you will. Go ahead."

At Best's words, Andy had only one thought.

Oh, shit.

It wasn't as if she didn't enjoy looking at Sam. Because she did. A lot. More than she should, if she was honest. But looking at him during shift, or at the Penny, or when he drove her home - that was different than the way she had to look at him now, the way that Best ordered them to. Because she wasn't just sitting across the squad car from him, or across the table from him. She was sitting next to him, practically on top of him. Why had she chosen to sit next to him? Oh, that's right.

All because she liked the way he smelled.

Stupid damn hormones.

So now, trying hard to keep a calm, emotionless face that was totally void of all feeling, she was very, very, aware of how he smelled. And he smelled damn good. What was that anyways? It was like a mixture of peppermint and coffee and leather and sex.

No. No, not sex. What the hell was wrong with her? Sex? Seriously? You can't even smell sex. It doesn't have a scent.

Right?

She was trying so very, very hard to maintain that emotionless face as she turned to look at him. Why was he already looking at her? Had he been looking at her the whole time? Why hadn't she noticed?

Just look at him. What's the big deal? There is no big deal. There is no deal whatsoever. Just look him in the eyes. Easy. Friends look at each other all the time.

He had really pretty eyes. Dark, very dark, but...with flecks of green. Wow. They really were very pretty. And sexy. Very sensual. Very intense.

How had she never noticed his lips before? Well, she had. More than a few times. But it was only objectively, of course, because the way he formed his words was fascinating to watch, as was the way he drank his coffee. It was like the way she watched his hands. He had strong hands. Very strong. But his lips looked really soft - and she knew from experience that they were.

Honestly, was she seriously thinking about kissing him right now? In the squad room, during parade, surrounded by a dozen or so cops?

Yes. Yes she was.

Crap.

She forced her eyes away from his lips, because they were really quite tempting, even though she had sworn off cops. Focusing on his jaw, she noticed that, like his hands, it was strong. Prominent, square. Almost like it was chiseled. She wondered, briefly, very, very briefly, how it would feel to run her lips over his jaw. Right now it was smooth. He probably had shaved that morning. In his bathroom. He was probably shirtless while he shaved. Which was no big deal. She didn't care.

Best's voice rang out - "Moving on."

Thank God.

She didn't know how much longer she could have taken, staring at him. Him staring at her. It was like two lions sizing each other up before attacking. And not in the angry, I-want-to-rip-your-head off kind of way. This was in the intense, I-want-to-rip-your-clothes off kind of way. But she could just be imagining things. Which she probably was. Most likely.

Wait, why was he still looking at her? She had turned her head away, focusing much too intensely on Best's continuing speech, which was very difficult already with Sam smelling so damn good next to her, but he hadn't turned his own head away. She could feel his gaze on her, steady, unyielding. She bit her lip, trying very, very hard not to look at him again.

It was starting to get really hot in the room. She could feel herself sweating under her buttoned-up collar. Why wasn't anyone else sweating? Was it because no one else was getting the third degree stare from their partner?

Stop looking at me. Please, stop looking at me.

She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth, and shifted on the ledge she was sitting on, scooting her lower body away from Sam even as her upper body leaned towards him. Honestly, did this man have some sort of magnetic pull or something?

Was it possible to want two totally opposite things at the same time? Because right now, she wanted to both run away as far as possible from his infuriatingly steady gaze and shove him up against the wall and kiss him until they both were sated.

Damn him and his strong, sexy hands. And eyes. And lips. Especially those lips.

It was a good thing she had sworn herself off cops.