SETUP: Towards the end of "The One That Got Away", when Swarek and McNally are both by the lockers. Intended to capture a moment of doubt in Swarek's head. Don't have the episode to play in front of me, so the dialogue is from my memory. One-shot.

OTHER: This is my first foray into the Rookie Blue fandom, and I hope you enjoy! Please leave a review, I'd love to hear your comments and criticism! :)

I could tell her, if I really wanted to.

Andy's staring at the inside of her locker like she's got a flat-screen hidden in it, and I turn away to prevent myself from saying something stupid. It's all my fault, is something that immediately comes to mind. Sorry for leaving you alone by a shady ass hot dog cart and making you fight off a serial killer that steals panties for fun, is a close second. But I'm smart enough to know that it probably won't be received very well. So I shut my eyes and lean my head against somebody's locker.

"I shouldn't have left you alone." I turn towards her slowly, wondering how long it will take for her to look at me.

"I'm fine," she replies, meeting my gaze. I see the shadows beneath her eyes, the puffiness of the skin around them. She's been crying. Damn. Maybe it's better if she turns back around.

"You can't stay with your dad," I blurt. So much for cool and collected, Sam. She looks at me in a way that makes it seem like she hasn't really seen a thing, and I do my best to continue looking at her square in the eyes.

"Then, I'll... I'll just stay with Tracy, or something. I'll be fine."

She says it again, and by now, I'm a little frustrated. You'd think that after almost two years, she would have realized that I see through her "I'm fine's" like they're made of glass. I brush the thought aside, knowing that my frustrations can't help me much right now. She's starting to stuff her bag to the top, and I know she's in a rush to leave. I don't bother telling her that's she's packed her shoes when they're probably better off on her bare feet. I embrace her fluster.

I need the extra time to think.

You could stay with me. I sound out the words in my head. Hell no. It sounds too greasy like that, too contrived. It sounds like something King George would say up in the tree branches with his chainsaw and severely dysfunctional brainwaves. I furrow my brow. Stay with me. Better. Part suggestion, part demand. Perfectly unreadable. I glance her way when I hear her swear about her shoes, and smirk as she digs through her bag, trying to find them. You know, there's an empty room at my place. My smile fades. Damn. They just keep getting better, don't they?

It's not like saying the words are all that difficult. I mean, for god's sake, if you can get past reading out Miranda Rights every night, then it can't be so hard to extend a friendly invitation. Which is, at the end of the day, all my words would be. A friendly invitation. Which is... fine.

Andy finds her shoes, and pulls each sandal from her bag with a sigh. I watch as she slips them on, realizing with a fleeting wave of panic that if I don't manage to say something now, she'll be walking in those slippers right by me.

"McNally..."

Her name comes out soundlessly, and my eyes dart to her, checking to see if she's noticed. She throws the bag over her shoulder, seemingly oblivious. Convincingly oblivious. I wonder if she's bluffing.

I pause. I'm suddenly trying real hard not to laugh.

McNally? Definitely not bluffing.

Definitely.

She walks past me slowly, glancing at me as she leaves. I'm not sure whether she is smiling. I don't see her leave. Not exactly. I'm too busy trying to explain to myself what the hell's going on with me.

I could still ask her, if I really want to.

Really, I could.