A/N: Thanks so much for the reads, alerts, and reviews to the start of this story! I realised I should've also mentioned prior to the first chapter that it's also AU from the perspective that Andy has already moved into her new apartment...which I'm sure you figured out for yourselves :)
Anyway, Here goes *&$%! ...
Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue
Andy bounces out of bed extra early the next morning, singing brightly to her empty apartment as she prepares her gear-bag for work. She figures this way she'll be ready to roll as soon as she's back from her run - a quick shower after she sends Sam a text that will get them on the way to talking about -
Stuff.
She hopes by the time she's done 5k's and freshened up that it has actually given him enough of a sleep in.
She resolves to think things through in the crisp morning air; work out what she wants to say exactly – well, the best way to put her feelings out there to Sam.
She's wondering whether maybe she should just run to his place, knock on his door and have coffee there, talk, and then –
No.
No, Andy cannot, not, not be getting ahead of herself.
She ties the laces extra tight on her new runners, and hunts around for the right sweater and cap. She fills her water bottle, grabs her earphones, and loads up some tunes that will keep her mood perfect for a run and a think.
She places the plugs in both ears not long after she's out the front door of her apartment block, pausing on the bottom stairs to look left and right and consider which way she'll run today.
It's cool...cold out this morning, winter just setting in and everything starting to take on the grey tones of bleak. The pavements and roads are a steelier shade and any trees that happen to be dotted along her vision have lost all their leaves.
Still. It's not all doom and gloom, the sun is there somewhere. Just. It's threatening to rise, but it looks like it might have an uphill battle. It's still pretty dark.
The cold and dark won't deter her though. At least it's not raining or snowing, and the light that is here this morning gives her a good enough view of everything in her direct vicinity.
She huffs out a foggy breath and watches the puff as it evaporates, thinks back to last night and Sam.
She's excited is the thing, a whole bundle of energy and nerves.
Yep.
This run is just what she needs.
At the end of deliberation, she decides she wants what little sun there will be sometime in the next hour or so, to be on her face.
She sets off at an easy pace, in no real rush to work her body hard today – just wanting to enjoy some fresh air and her new neighborhood.
She's noticed in the week she's been here that it's quiet before sunrise.
Today, there are a few cars parked on the street as usual, but no one around – too early and cold even for dog-walkers perhaps.
She hopes she comes across at least a few friendly faces, even if they're only animals. She wants to get to know her chosen neighborhood. It's not only the light of her apartment that attracted her, the vibe of the streets surrounding it felt...good.
One car across the road from Andy contains one of Brennan's men; he's on the phone to his buddy, discussing options it seems. "Struck it lucky, already. Yeah...She's on the move…and on foot. A block up from here is an alley that she's jogging past now. If she comes home the same way, we'll get to her there. So far, the coast is all clear..."
The only stop Andy makes on her first leg is at the park that has some exercise equipment, and some nice spots for a picnic. She jogs around inspecting it for potential. She considers it a viable option if ever she…and Sam…might want to mix up their gym routines and take them outdoors.
Andy also gives some thought to whether Sam is the picnic type. Probably not, she suspects.
She takes a little longer than usual, actually - taking more notice of her surroundings, with careful attention to the restaurants, coffee shops and other places that might interest her…and her friends.
She decides on the homestretch, she really does like her new neighborhood a whole bunch. Sure, it may once not have been the best in the city, but it's eclectic character is interesting, and is clearly getting noticed more and more for the good things it offers to all kinds of new homebuyers now.
She's happy with her purchase decision, this is right for now...until...
Well.
Until whatever comes next...
(She remembers Sam's grin as he checked out the bathroom after helping her move in. "Well, of course they got this part right," he teased her.
But. Andy could tell he was impressed, generally.
She was grateful to him for the assistance, and the way he was patient with the Epstein and Diaz double-act of being happy helpers.
Things only got slightly awkward when the three men as they argued over exactly what needed to happen to put together her bed.
It was at that point Andy had wanted to kick her rookie friends out, maybe help Sam with the task all by herself.)
She smiles now at a heavy-set man jogging in the opposite direction who offers up a friendly nod. He's the only other living soul she's seen so far, aside some birds in the park. Admittedly, she wouldn't like to meet him in a dark alley, but still –
Andy smirks to herself and decides she's going to tell Sam this morning that her "toilet factory is wonderful, thank you very much (and feel free to come and spend time there any day or night to obtain evidence)" before she moves on to the topic she really wants to discuss.
Andy figures she might as well just come out and tell him she has 'feelings' for him…and that she kind of has for some time. She wants to tell Sam that whilst she loved Luke, she realizes now that it was never quite right…and that even though her ego may still be bruised because of the betrayal, she is ready to move on with her life…
Her thoughts build in momentum with every step that she takes; her brain, body, and heart all synching with one another and committing to be courageous with Sam, to tell him she wants to give them a shot –
The heavy, dull thud hits Andy's shoulders out of nowhere, and then there's a sound of wood hitting pavement as she falls forward to the ground. The pain is acute but not so much that it blacks her out or anything.
As the palms of her hands graze the pavement, she considers it a saving grace that she hasn't face-planted as well.
The footpath jars through layers of clothing, no doubt causing damage to her already battered about knees.
It's only when she feels a hand yank hard at her pony-tail that her cop mode clicks in, every piece of physical training coming to the fore, despite the pain that her body is in.
She jerks her body backward as far as she can and kicks her leg out, curling it around both legs of her attacker and managing to trip him to the ground. Somehow she scrambles forward out of his tight grasp –
Only to be met with the brick wall in front of her – the legs of the 'jogger' she saw just moments ago.
"What…" she strangles out breathlessly, as the guy plants a foot hard into the centre of her back, leaving her no option but to keep her body and face parallel to the ground.
The next few minutes are brutal; a friend of her two attackers joining in to taunt Andy as she tries over and over again to fight them all off. They pull her off the ground after kicking her sides with reasonable force, only to punch her body over and over again.
"I have no money on me…" she tells them eventually, after a fourth punch to her abdomen left her falling all the way back down. There are tears burning her eyes and her body is left without the tenacity that would normally at least take one of these jerks down.
One of the men pulls her up again rough by the scruff of her sweater, and bumps her against the brick wall of the alley they've dragged her further and further into. "We're gonna give you simple instructions, Officer McNally. And you're gonna follow each to a T."
Andy thuds her head back light against the brick wall behind her, a response to the way he just curled his fingers around her neck.
She chokes in a few gasps of air; both in recognition of what he's said and the fact she's terrified it could be her last.
She nods at the three men finally, just once. Tries to absorb every feature and descriptor of each so she can run the profiles on the system later today.
"We know your man's watching, Andy. And you're gonna get the op pulled." The guy has the most startling blue eyes she's ever seen - clear and icy and menacing, they bore straight into her. "No one else needs to know about our encounter except Donovan Boyd, got that?"
Andy's brow furrows momentarily, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place that these are the guys Sam was watching last night. "You don't say anything to your boyfriend…or anyone else. Understood? No crying to Swarek...or he's dead." He gives her a kick on the shin to prompt an answer, eliciting a wince from Andy.
Andy glances over to the buddies of blue-eyes, notices one showing her the tip of a pistol from inside his coat. She figures these guys are not only serious, but they are dangerous...the fact that they haven't bothered with disguises is a dead giveaway that they'll finish the job if they have to. All Andy can think of now is how to remain as calm as she can.
She nods cautiously, her eyes pleading with the man that's holding her neck. "You tell Boyd we know. You tell him he's screwed up his op and needs to pull it today."
Andy's brain feels short-circuited, her grasping at exactly how she's going to pull herself together, do her job today, and get Donovan Boyd to do his part. "Understood," she strangles out with a guttural moan, feeling all kinds of pain from different parts of her body.
"We find out you've fucked us over, you're dead, Swarek's dead, and anyone else that's important to you will start dropping one by one." The guy is practically spitting in her face as he says it, one hand below poking hard into her ribs. Andy has no doubts they mean it, she has no idea how they know of her connection to Sam…or how they've found out about the operation, but if they know that much…they probably know more.
The guy with the gun points it at her. "Now. Run along, Officer. You best be getting to work."
The man holding her neck releases her and stands back, a gesture she assumes is going to mean he'll let her go now.
As she goes to step forward however, he punches her once more and hard in the stomach again. The force of it flings her back against the wall, and the only thing she can do is let herself slide all the way down it and back to the ground.
Double over, she watches the three men walk away casually, around the corner to a spot she can no longer see. The pain has spread a dull ache all through her that makes her want to lie on the pavement for a very long time.
She struggles against it though, working her way up to first her knees, and then feet. She stands still for another couple of minutes; a hand clenched on her side at the shooting pain she thinks might be caused by a cracked rib or two. She takes her breaths slowly; focusing on how her body reacts to make sure it's nothing more serious than that.
After another few minutes, she starts walking slowly, trying not to think of the pain that continues to ripple across the places she must have some huge bruises spouting. Andy wants to get her head thinking about what it needs to think about, and quickly. Boyd's op is obviously a time-bomb, and Sam is at the heart of it. Her priority is to keep him…and her…and everyone around them safe, they can worry about locking these assholes away after that.
It's only when Andy manages to get through the front door of her apartment that she realizes the sequence of problems, and that she has to act fast. The first thing she needs to do is to head to the bathroom –
She's not sure whether it's trauma of the injury, or stress in general, but she heaves over the bowl of her toilet.
Bile remains in her throat as she peels her clothes off carefully and takes a good look at the bruises and welts across her torso, and parts of her arms and her legs.
She uses her phone to take pictures of herself, evidence for when it might be needed. Right now, no one needs to know about the superficial marks across her, she'll just keep them all under wraps.
Andy lets the hot water of her shower flood her senses, taking extra care to wash her body, because of the pain and how dirty and violated she feels.
She's copped some injuries in her time; it's what happens when you put yourself in the line of fire on the job. But -
When she gets back out of the shower, she looks in the mirror and down over her body again. This time is particularly ugly, a series of black, blue, and purple marks that spread the width of her stomach.
She notices her attackers were careful not to hurt her too much though, careful not to mark her up where it's so obvious that any onlooker would ask questions about what happened to her.
She inspects her neck and face closely in the mirror, notices a couple of scratches from the pavement and brick walls. She also notices a couple of faint finger imprints on her neck.
These guys knew what they were doing.
And they knew just where to stop.
Andy grits her teeth and continues to get ready. She is determined to be in a state ready to play out the plan of action that started to take form in the shower –
She may be a little battered.
But Andy is still...capable...
Finally fully dressed, Andy sits on her couch staring at the screen of her phone -
The first thing she does is to leave a message for Best, letting him know she'll be a couple of hours late, having "tripped and sprained her ankle on a run," and that she's going to get it checked. She hopes that also serves the purpose that she'll be given desk duty when she does arrive later, giving her a chance to look into her attackers and no doubt keep track of Boyd.
After a few deep breaths, she makes the call to Sam. She feels her walls crumble before she hits speed-dial 2, so upset that she can't see him, talk to him, yet –
"Hey," she's greeted with, somewhat cheerily for Sam. "How was the run?"
Andy bites her lip, hating herself for the lie she's about to give, but terrified of what might happen if she doesn't do exactly what she was told.
She forces a tentative smile on her face in an effort to get her voice right. "Ugh, not great. Such a clutz. Rolled my ankle and took a fall to the ground."
And, of course this excuse is not going to help keep Sam at bay, the way he worries about anything that ever happens to her. "What…you okay?" His voice has gone from happy to anxious in three seconds flat.
"Yeah, yep." Andy cuts in quickly, wanting to put this fire out quickly before he's over here in her loungeroom and making her keep her foot off the ground. (Any other time, and. Well. Andy would like that a lot). She shakes her head and blinks, remembering its life and death they're talking about here...
Not just hers...his. Sam's life.
"All good, just strapping it….but…um…can we raincheck the coffee until…um…until later on." Andy realizes then, she might have to delay the coffee for a little while yet. She can't go down the path of telling him what she wants, and then keeping him at bay if he wants the same things too…
She shakes her head again.
Life and death Andy, this is not about your desires.
"Ah. Right. 'Course…running late for work, huh?" There's a smirk back in Sam's voice which gives Andy the most genuine, albeit tiny of smiles, since the attack. "I'll come pick you up…"
"Nope." Andy butts in abruptly, panicking, "Trace is on her way. "Called her a few seconds ago."
There is a long, long, long pause at the end of her phone.
"Oh. Okay...I…yeah…sure." Andy frowns, feeling her heart drop the way Sam's voice sounds hurt. "S'long as you're alright."
A couple of errant tears make their way down Andy's cheek. "Um. Woulda called you earlier…just…yeah. Figured I'd let you sleep if I wasn't gonna drag you out for coffee." All she wants is to bury herself in Sam's chest right now, let him wrap his arms around her, and help with all of this. But if him knowing the danger they're both in means he's a dead man walking, she just has to keep a clear head –
Andy hears a sigh at the end of the line, no doubt Sam's bemused exasperation at her antics. "Whatever you say, McNally…I'll um. See you later, okay?"
"Totally," Andy tries on brightly. "Look forward to it."
Sam hangs up the phone feeling…a whole lot of things. He's been up and showered for a half hour now, ready to swing by McNally's and fill her up with whatever sugar and cream with coffee concoction she wants. He's disappointed for starters, still -
He's endeared by McNally's babbling as usual, but something about the whole conversation felt kind of off.
He can't quite put his finger on it, but it sounded a little like she was hiding something from him, which…hurts. (All though, he's one to talk. It's not like he's out and out shares his concerns – or a whole lot of crap – with her).
He can't help but feel a little anxious even if it is nothing serious, even if she is telling the truth. If it is her ankle, even if it's only a sprain, she'll have to be on desk duty. She'll have to take things easy for a good few days –
Sam wonders if she'll 'fess up to Frank, briefly considers calling the boss himself until he figures McNally would well and truly kill him if he actually did that.
He scrubs a hand over his face a couple of times, pinching the bridge of his nose the last time up. He wonders what she wanted to talk about this morning; wonders if that's got anything to do with what she might not be telling him this morning.
He groans and smacks at the corner of his kitchen bench, feeling furious with himself that he didn't go on the run with her – sleep or no sleep. He feels his heartrate pick up as he wonders whether now she might avoid telling him whatever the hell -
Damn it.
This girl is going to be the death of Sam.
Andy bites at her fingernails, as she waits for the person to answer her next phone call.
She hears the operator at the other end tell her in a nasal voice: "Putting you through now."
Finally, after more waiting, she's hears the gruff voice, clearly irritated by a distraction by her. "What's up, McNally?"
Andy sucks a breath in and puts aside her own irritation. She figures there's only one way to get Boyd actually listening to her, and that's to be nothing but professional and courteous. "I have some information on a case I believe belongs to you."
There's some silence at the end of the phone, like maybe Boyd is gauging the importance of the information – without Andy telling him at all. "Oh yeah? Mind me asking how you know what cases I'm working? Division 15 isn't involved in my work generally speaking, McNally."
Andy is prepared for that question. She rolls her eyes at his snotty tone and gets on with business. She assumes that Sam wasn't meant to tell anyone about his involvement with whatever surveillance he's doing, so she doesn't want the arrogant detective undermining Sam's moral code. "I'm not telling you that over the phone. I'll be at your office in half an hour. You need to trust me on this, it's information you need. One of your operations has been compromised and put a number of lives in danger."
Andy guesses it's the authenticity and seriousness to her tone that gets her past the vast array of obstacles that Boyd would normally throw her way. She's met with some silence again, and then he huffs out a breath. "You can have five minutes of my time. Then you're back to the sandpit, okay?"
