Title: When it matters

By: Maverick88

Disclaimer: there's a reason this is posted on

Author's note: First I want to thank everyone who took the time to review/favorite/alert my first RB story "In Need." I never expected that and it was such a great surprise to suddenly see my mailbox filling up! You guys are great! I haven't gotten back to all of you yet because I'm still debating whether to make a new chapter for that story. Now, onto business:

I wrote this after seeing 2x06. I intended to have it up before 2x07 aired but I wasn't happy with it. I'm still not completely satisfied now, but I've done so many revisions I decided to stop before I made it worse rather than better. So please let me know what you think of it! I'm still struggling with expanding my vocabulary, but I'm trying.

This was her fourth scotch. At this rate she'd be seeing double before the end of the night. But the burning liquid eased the tension that had been coursing through her veins ever since she left the apartment. She was angry, but it was a two edged sword. In hindsight everything fitted together like a puzzle and she never recognized the pieces. Only when it was already too late.

She took another gulp, grimacing as it needled its way down her throat. She never really understood her father's obsession with drinking until now. It was an effective way to wash away sorrow and numb her overactive mind. She was about to signal for another glass until someone set it in front of her. Her nostrils picked up the familiar scent of autumn and leather. Sam.

He slid into the seat in front of her with infuriating grace.

"What's this?" She gestured to the tall glass with clear liquid in it. If he was plotting to get her drunk he wasn't being subtle about it. He smiled at her and she almost missed the hint of sadness in his dark eyes. "Try it and find out."

She did. The taste offended her so much she almost spat it right out. "Water!"

He smiled again, genuinely this time. "If you want to keep the mother of all headaches at bay you should drink more of it."

She knew he was right. Still, that didn't take away the slight surge of anger that went through her. Who was he to decide how she dealt with a situation? She was hurt, damn it! She wanted it to go away.

"It won't make you forget, you know."

Damn him. Since when did he become a mind reader?

"Forget what?" she decided to play dumb. His eyes flared briefly, though he kept his calm.

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. I thought I'd offer." With the way his voice deepened, she knew he would get up and walk away if she wanted him to. She sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For all the stupid ramblings about my personal life." She slumped forward, resting on her elbows. He leaned in and gave her hand a short squeeze. "I'm a good listener."

She nodded. "I know you are. But what man wants to listen to my complaining and…." She gestured tiredly, searching for the right word, "….stuff?" The right corner of his mouth curled up slightly.

"Oh, sometimes you do bring me on the verge of insanity," he conceded with a smirk. "You manage to overthink things and be impulsive at the same time." Her eyes narrowed.

"But," he raised his finger to emphasize his point, "When you're not talking about the woes of paradise you make a good verbal sparring partner."

She smiled bitterly.

"Yeah, about that…" she looked up, not willing to give into the tears she felt welling up, "Luke cheated on me with Jo."

If nothing rattled him before, this did. He fell quiet. "What?" She recognized the odd mixture of confusion and surprise on his face. He really hadn't known. She was content at that; it meant rumors didn't spread as fast as she'd feared. She really wanted to keep this thing under wraps for as long as possible and ease her way out. The last thing she needed was a scandal and being branded a victim.

"I guess that makes me Jennifer Aniston to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie," she tried for a light joke, chuckling though it came out mangled.

Suddenly Sam's hand gripped hers, his dark, almost black eyes pinning her with their intensity. "Don't do that. Don't let the choice of an idiot make you doubt your own worth. You are genuine, kind, intelligent and one of the few cops who actually care about their jobs."

Her throat constricted. She'd gotten praise before, but there was something about the way he did it that had impact. "Luke and Jo care about their jobs too," she said quietly. "They work around the clock." A stray tear rolled down her cheeks and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"Luke and Jo care about cases, not people. You cared when Kate got shot, you cared about that woman in debt and I can go on and on because the examples are endless. You have heart, Andy. That's what makes you good."

"It's what makes me naïve, Sam!" she spat, tears flowing freely now. She didn't want to break down in front of him but she couldn't hold it back anymore. "If I wasn't so trusting I would have known!" She hated the way her breath hitched and her cheeks had gotten red. "God, I feel like such an idiot."

She glanced around to check if anyone else had noticed, but Sam guided her face back with the palm of his hands and gently dabbed away the smudged mascara with a small tissue. She let out a shaky breath, fighting to gain control again. She felt pathetic compared to his zen-like calmness.

"It's always easy to blame yourself afterwards. He proposed and you loved him. Of course you expected him to be faithful to you. After all, that's what marriage is about," Sam said softly, though his eyes betrayed his anger towards the blonde detective.

"I think he only proposed because I found the ring," she admitted, again internally smacking herself for not connecting the dots sooner. She watched realization dawn on his face and sighed.

"It was for her, but he couldn't own up to it and proposed instead." She continued, turning the now empty glass in her hands. The parts of her brain that had been saturated with whiskey were starting to clear up again. Things started making sense and she didn't want sense. She wanted oblivion. "It feels like the whole relationship was a lie." She raised her gaze to meet Sam's again.

"Not all of it was a lie. I think he thought he'd moved on from Jo but when she came back he found out he hadn't."

"So I was just a replacement, a rebound," she muttered darkly. She knew she was being unfair. Sam was being sensible and she simply couldn't deal with it.

He exhaled slowly. "If that's what you were to him he's an idiot," he declared, eyes blazing. "He never deserved you anyway," he quietly added. If she hadn't seen his lips move she would have written it off as her imagination. "What?" Anger reared its ugly head once more and she raised her voice. "Are you saying that I was stupid to choose him?"

Sam looked at her tiredly, like a teacher trying to explain the obvious for the 10th time.

"Everyone in love is stupid. It's part of the condition."

She'd expected him to say what she wanted to hear and he hadn't. Now she knew why she was being so difficult with him. When Sam's fuse ran out he didn't beat around the bush. She needed someone to slap her in the face with truth. Maybe she would accept it then instead of running from it, like she always did.

"So I'm guessing you didn't get that one from your joke book?"

A smirk. "No, it's one of my mother's classics. Ranks right up there with my favorite phrase: the Hambulance."

She laughed out loud at that, throwing her head back. "You're such a goofball."

He shook his head, chuckling. "It's true though."

"What, the hambulance?" Her smile came more naturally now.

"No, the head-up-in-the-sky, pink-glasses syndrome."

"Any first hand experience with that?"

"Ofcourse."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No." She sensed a wall up ahead and tried her best imitation of Bambi to get him to crack, if only to hear another story that wouldn't make her feel bad. She knew it was pathetic to seek consolidation in other people's mistakes, but then again, she did have a lot of alcohol in her. He kept looking at her with those impenetrable eyes of his and she remembered Sam wasn't someone who let himself be toyed with.

"Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry so often." He smiled at her but his eyes were serious.

"Sorry about that." She said and smirked and he rolled his eyes at her.

It was funny what a short time in his presence could do. The pressure on her chest was gone and she didn't feel so miserable anymore. He was a good friend.

"Do you have a place to stay?" He asked after a few moments of comfortable silence and her face blanched.

"I…I'm going to look for an apartment tomorrow, but for now I'm staying with my dad. I know I should have had a back up plan….but you know…" she trailed off, feeling very small and vulnerable again. She always gestured wildly when she was stressed out and she hated being so obvious.

She waited for him to berate her on not having her shit together, but he kept silent and took her hand instead, rubbing all knots and tension out of it with his thumb.

"How is your dad doing these days?" He asked, still keeping her hand in his. She was appreciative of the distraction, though she became more and more aware of the depth of his dark eyes and…she shook her head to chase the thought from her mind.

"He's doing great. His meetings are going well and he's starting to look better too, so I know I'm not imagining it."

He nodded appreciatively at her. "You did that, Andy. You got him back on track."

She looked down, not sure if she deserved the praise, but thankful for it either way. "He was the one who walked through the door," she said.

"Yes, but you were the one that showed him where it was."

They were quiet for a while and Andy saw the place had gotten empty while she'd been talking to him. Sam had noticed as well and threw a quick glance at his watch.

"Come on, let me take you home."

She suddenly had a deja-vu about standing in the parking lot the first day she'd been partnered with him and having to using every ounce of self restraint she had not to kiss him when he'd uttered those same words. She shook her head. She was definitely a bit tipsy.

"I can walk, you know."

He favored her with a wry grin. "Wait until you get up from the chair."

She did and stumbled. The room was moving up and down, left and right, as if she was on a boat during a storm. "Woah." She definitely couldn't handle liquor as well as she thought she could. Her eyes searched for Sam, only to find him gone. Just when her mind went into panic mode, she felt his hand on the small of her back and the other on her shoulder, steadying her.

"Easy now. Just wait a few seconds." His husky voice sent a shiver all the way up her spine and she knew then and there she was in trouble.

"I still need to pay." She suddenly remembered and fumbled for her wallet. Sam swiftly pushed her hand away. "I got you covered." The way he was looking at her…that dimple had to be the work of the devil. She wanted to resist, tell him she didn't want charity, but nothing came out.

"Let's go," she said, tugging on his arm. She tried not to lean on him too much as they made their way to the door. Fortunately for her, her coordination improved with each step.

The air outside was crisp and fresh. She took a moment to let it chase the cobwebs from her mind before she tried to locate his truck. She couldn't find it. And why was he smirking so cheekily?

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better," she replied honestly, not getting where he was going with this.

"Good, because I don't have my truck with me today."

She followed him through the mostly empty parking lot. He was walking towards a run down Volvo and she wondered where on earth he'd gotten such an ugly car. Just when she was about to make a comment about it, she saw it in the shadow, bathed in moonlight. A pitch black Kawasaki Ninja.

"You ride motorcycles?" He grinned at the surprise in her voice and she suddenly realized just how little she knew about him. He handed her his helmet.

"What about you?"

"I didn't bank on having an extra passenger. Don't worry, I'll be fine." He swung his leg over the seat and put on a pair of sleek Wiley x motorcycle glasses. Andy tried her best to ignore how good he looked with them, concentrating instead on adjusting the helmet the right way. But ignoring a man like Sam was hard, especially if you were a woman with a pulse.

"Come on, hop on." She did, happily surprised that she could do so without stumbling over.

"Just hold on to me and you'll be fine. Try to relax. I won't go too fast."

She put his arms around his waist and yelped in surprise when the engine suddenly roared to life. And then suddenly, they were off. She tried to follow his instructions and though at first she clung to him like a life vessel, she soon found herself loosening up and enjoying the feeling of weaving through the night traffic.

"Wow, this is great!" she yelled against the wind and she could hear him laughing. "It is, isn't it?"

They seemed to pass streetlights with the speed of light and she felt like her worries got left behind with them. All too soon they pulled up to the driveway of her dad's home and with a pang of guilt she realized the lights were still on.

"Ah, shit. I should have told him where I was." She reluctantly let go of Sam and clumsily stepped off the bike. She looked at Sam, his face unreadable because of the eyewear. "Don't worry Andy. He knew exactly where you were." She put off her helmet and ran a hand through her tousled hair. "How so?" He removed his glasses. "Because he would have done exactly the same."

Before she could let the words sink in, she heard the familiar croak of the door. In the pale light stood her father, dressed in sweatpants and a white T-shirt. "I was wondering when you'd be home. I've been drinking coffee all evening to stay awake."

The fear he would turn to alcohol was always there and she suddenly felt disgusted with herself for turning to the cursed liquid in a moment of weakness, while he'd resisted. "I'm sorry, dad."

He swatted her apology away. "Sounds like you needed the distraction. He nodded at Sam. "You took care of my girl?"

"Always." Some kind of understanding passed between them before he turned his eyes to her and held her gaze a bit longer than usual. Then he put on his helmet and rode off, vanishing as quickly as they'd arrived. The statement lingered however, unmoving.

"He really is there when it matters." She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud until she heard her father chuckle beside her. She followed him inside, listening to him talk about bad coffee and other insignificant things and her thoughts went out to the man who made the world a less bad place for her to live in. "He became a cop to protect his sister, did you know that?" Tommy cut in and she nodded. She sat down on the sofa and watched him pour her a cup of hot chocolate. She almost missed it when he added quietly: "It's not his sister he's protecting now."

THE END

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