A/N: Wow, I am extremely blown away by the lovely reviews, favorites and follows for my first fanfic, "Trouble." I didn't think anyone would care to read it let alone want me to continue! So until I figure out where I'm going with that story, here's a really short one-shot that I've had written for awhile.

Story background: I was confused by Sam's total disinterest in Andy after she got attacked by John Grey in 3x13, so I had to write something about it! A huge thank you to margie311 for being so cool and lending a helping hand!

Disclaimer - I don't own Rookie Blue...if I did...Sam would have hugged her after she let go of the grenade.

"She's fine," Traci, ever the mother hen, called out to Sam and Oliver as they approached the group of cops.

Sam held back just a few steps, knowing that the two words of reassurance were meant for him but, in turn, put on an air of indifference.

He let Oliver walk up first and watched him look Andy over. Sam intently viewed the interchange from a few feet away. Ollie, in this moment, was the only other person he trusted to make sure she was ok...since in fact...making sure she was ok...

Wasn't his job anymore.

Those words rang in his ears as he fought the urge to close the distance between he and Andy. His hands shoved tightly in his pockets, held hostage from touching her face to inspect the bruise that fell a little too close to her eye. He thought his hands might literally burn right off from the energy they contained, just melt into puddles of steam while trying desperately to keep from grazing a thumb across her cheekbone.

It's not your job...let Oliver do it... Sam's job at the moment was to look completely unaffected by the amount of pain Andy was in from John Grey's attack. Andy did a good job of it as well, spouting a quick "I'm fine" to anyone that dared ask if she was ok.

Sam had replayed the conversation in his mind, the one he had with her just two weeks ago, a few too many times for his own good. It was a simple conversation, one he understood with all the pain and torture it came with.

That particular evening he waited for two hours after his shift just to check on her. He had wanted to help earlier in the day, but Frank's orders to leave and Andy's eyes of avoidance told Sam he wasn't welcome.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked, keeping up with the pace she already set coming around the corner. He had been watching for her and it clearly took her by surprise.

Why was he here? Andy shot him a confused look. He wasn't interested in picking up the phone when I called him, why would he be interested now?

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he quipped, smoothly trying to keep up with her steps but almost tripping on his own feet. To that response she didn't miss a beat.

"That's not your job anymore."

He stopped dead in his tracks, hands in his pockets, mouth slightly open. The words didn't come because he had no right to speak them.

She was correct.

Sam had quit the career he had painstakingly worked at for 2 years and left her with nothing and no one to fill his shoes. She was her own protector now, but what was new? While a miracle was happening and Andy was starting to relax and allow the weight of Sam's comforting arm to hold her up, he made the decision to release that load.

She always says she's fine...maybe she really is. Sam smirked at himself for even thinking that. Coward. If this is how fine feels...I don't want to be fine.

Sam had made his bed and now he had to lie in it...alone for that matter. The right to take care of her died the moment he broke her heart.

Ollie ran a quick pass at her face, tilting her chin up so he could see her swollen cheek. She would be bruised in the morning, maybe even a black eye, but he told her she looked like a million bucks and didn't press the issue.

Sam barely gave her a glance and made himself keep his eyes low. Torture was that just a few weeks ago he would have looked her square in the eyes and made her promise him she was ok. Of course she would have rolled her eyes at him, slightly annoyed at his overprotectiveness. If anything bad happened to her so help him...

He forced himself to hand the reigns off to Oliver and got real for a split second. He wasn't her T.O. He wasn't her boyfriend. Honestly, they weren't even friends anymore. Naturally that meant it wasn't his job to make sure she was okay.

Hands still in pockets, red fists of regret.

He lifted his sight ever so slightly and rested on her swollen eyes and nervous mouth. She pressed her lips to her teeth, one of her tells...she's holding back tears and he knows it. No one else would see that though, not a tear escapes from her lashes, she wouldn't dare.

Then as she turned her face away to answer a nearby question, he caught vision of the sore on her cheek. It was deep and red, marring her perfectly porcelain cheekbone. That kind of mark came from a big blow. Grey must have hit her hard.

Sam stared the bruise down, as if it had its own personality. If she had looked his way at that moment he wouldn't know how to explain himself. He quickly turned his sight to the pavement below his boots and closed his eyes fiercely to regain a semblance of composure.

"Dang it McNally..."

The words came in a whisper, all at once before he had a chance to stop them.

"I want my job back."