Sam slowly placed his arms over her shoulders and around her neck. She just stood there, neither accepting nor denying the embrace.
"I went back to the place I shared with Luke to get the last box I left. I didn't think he was going to be there, but it was late, he was drunk, and h-he," she stuttered and stopped talking.
"What'd he do, Andy?" Sam asked.
"He was throwing stuff at me. It was that Saturday and Sunday that I wasn't at the station. I made it out with a mild concussion, but my box is still there," she sarcastically said and laughed a little before the bruises hurt her too much.
"Oh Andy, c'mon," Sam said as he grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. He led her into her bedroom and let her sit on her bed.
"Don't lay down yet. I'll be right back," Sam said. He rushed to her kitchen and looked in her pantry for freezer bags. He found a couple of plastic sandwich bags and filled them with ice cubes from the dispenser in her freezer. He sealed them and grabbed some hand towels from one of the various drawers in her kitchen. He entered Andy's bedroom and placed everything on her bed. As he was wrapping the bags in towels as to not give her skin freezer burn, he remembered that she had a clasp bra on. She'll need something different. Sam happened to know where her underwear drawer was. He walked over to her dresser and opened the drawer.
"Hey!" Andy said. Sam turned around and held up a highlighter pink sports bra.
"Really? What are you going to wear this with so everyone won't see it?" he sarcastically asked.
"They're for the gym, Sam. No one cares about seeing sports bras there. Now hand it over," Andy said, having the same though process as he did. He tossed it to her.
"Hey, turn around," Andy spoke again.
"I never made you for the shy type," Sam repeated, remembering that cold winter night when he was J.D and she was Candace from insurance. Andy twisted her arm around her back, trying to reach the clasp without hurting herself further. Sam noticed her struggle and quickly went to undo the bra and slide it from her shoulders. Andy handed him the bright pink sports bra, knowing he wasn't going to let her fail at putting it on herself, but not before giving him a look that said you better not be enjoying this. But she knew he was just trying to help her. Sam flicked his index finger in a silent communication to Andy that meant put your arms up. She obeyed and slowly lifted her arms above her head. Sam slid the tight fabric through her hands, past her elbows and pulled it down to settle on her shoulders. He untwisted the straps and looked to Andy for confirmation that it was okay. She nodded her head. He grabbed one of the ice bags and pulled back on the razorback of her bra. He slid the bag in between her shoulder blades and grabbed another one. He placed it where he knew her back would soon be.
"Lay down," he simply said, and she complied. He then put another one on her stomach, and one on each of her sides. Andy's stomach chose now to rumble so loud that someone in Sacramento probably heard it.
"Did you eat?" Sam asked.
"No," Andy simply said. Sam left the room to go look through her fridge for something to heat up. He found nothing. He checked his watch and saw that it read 7:29. He walked back in to Andy.
"Where's all the food?" he asked, getting a giggle from Andy McNally.
"At the store that I don't have time to go to," she laughed again.
"Right, I go to the same one. You want pizza or Chinese?" he asked.
"I had Chinese last night," Andy said.
"Best got us pizza for lunch today," Sam gave another excuse. "I can go get some pasta," Sam suggested.
"That sounds great," Andy smiled at him.
"Mkay, I'll be right back," Sam spoke. "You gonna be okay for a while?"
"Yes, Sam. I'll be fine." Andy spoke. Sam looked at the tv, and found the remote on Andy's nightstand, just out of her reach. He grabbed it, placed it in her hand, and kissed the back of her palm. With that, he left from the room. As Sam was walking out, he saw Andy's phone light up again, Nash's picture being displayed as the caller. He picked it up, walked in to Andy, handed it to her and left.
"McNally," she answered.
"Andy, what's going on? Why haven't you answered?" Traci asked.
"I'm fine, Trace. Just kinda busy," Andy answered.
"Is Swarek there?" Traci asked.
"No," Andy said, knowing that she wasn't lying.
"He just left?" Traci asked.
"Oh, shutup." Andy spoke back, laughing.
"So how is the detective?" Traci asked, another to the million questions.
"He's fine, getting me dinner," Andy said.
"Did you tell him what Lukewarm did?" Another question from the peanut gallery.
"No, he found, well, kinda," Andy answered.
"Tell me," Traci retorted.
"He was holding me really tight, and I told him to let me go, and he wouldn't. And I started crying and he was really concerned, and I tried to tell him that I fell, but he didn't buy it. So I just told him the truth," Andy replied.
"Oh, okay."
"How's Leo?"
"With his dad,"
"That's no fun,"
"Andy, you know I'm on the detective's rotation. I can't call Leo's nanny in the middle of the night just because someone finds a body,"
"Yeah, I know," Andy replied, and for the next twenty minutes, Traci and Andy talked about everything.
"Andy!" she finally heard. She knew it was Sam, and quickly said goodbye to Traci. Andy dropped the phone where she could remember Sam leaving it and tried to look like she was asleep. Sam set the bag on the counter and walked to Andy's room. He found her rolled over on her stomach, resting her eyes in wait for him to return. He put his hands on her shoulders and she was shuddering a moment later.
"Andy?" Sam asked, concerned that he hurt her. She didn't respond, she just continued to shake at his touch. In that moment, she wished the bruises were gone, the ice packs would vanish, and that Sam would never have left her alone. In that moment, she wanted him so badly that she was shaken to her core. But she knew he wouldn't, knew he couldn't the way that he had seen her tonight. She flitted her eyes open.
"Yes?" she asked, lifting a hand to touch his face, rub his neck.
"I got your pasta," he said, getting straight to the point.
"Mhmm," she sighed, still rubbing his neck.
"What?" Sam asked.
"I'm just not so sure I want that pasta anymore," she said, knowing that he'd know what she was implying.
"Andy, you're so broken," Sam softly said. He knew it would offend her, but he'd said it anyway.
"Not broken, just a little bruised," she made an excuse.
"Andy, I want to. I- I just can't," Sam spoke.
"Fine," Andy sharply said, standing to her feet. She didn't care that all of the ice bags had come tumbling onto her floor. She lifted her arm behind her back, trying to ignore the pain, reached inside her sports bra, took out that ice bag, and shoved it onto Sam's toned chest. Her hand lingered longer than necessary to make a point, but she walked out anyways. She went to her silverware drawer, pulled out one fork, and sat on one of her stools. Sam walked into her kitchen after he knew she'd sat down. She clearly wasn't waiting for him, though.
"Where'd you get the fork?" Sam kindly asked. No response. Sam went to her, took the fork from her hand and put it in the bowl to rest on the side. He turned the top of her stool to face him, spread her legs and put himself in between them. He put his left hand on her waist and his right hand on her neck. She still refused to look at him.
"Andy, I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you," Sam said.
"I'm not made of glass." Andy stated firmly.
"I know. I know you're not a fragile person, Andy. You need to take a break and let your body heal, alright? I don't want to be the reason for your pain," Sam softly said.
"Well," Andy said sarcastically.
"I've already caused you enough pain. I don't want to be the reason for more. I'm going to hurt you either way, Andy. If we do, you'll hurt on the outside. If we don't, you'll hurt on the inside. I don't want to look at your bruises from another guy but then make them worse. I'm sorry," Sam said.
"I'm hungry," Andy said, pushed him away, grabbing her fork and putting a noodle in her mouth. She also made a point to bring her legs together, as if implying that she didn't want him between them; they both knew better. The pair ate quickly, not saying a word.
"You take your bed; I'll be on the couch." Sam said, putting his fork in the sink along with his glass.
"Sam, you're not staying the night," Andy said.
"Yes, I am." Sam firmly spoke.
"It was my stupid choice, not yours. Go away." Andy replied.
"McNally. Take the help. You need it," Sam said.
"Fine, I'm too tired to argue with you." Andy said, finalizing their conversation. She walked into her room, firmly shutting the door. Sam started to drift off on Andy's couch. At about two am, Sam heard footsteps and woke up. He forgot where he was and panicked for a minute. Then he realized that he was in McNally's apartment. He looked over the couch edge and saw Andy softly padding towards him.
"You okay?" He asked. No response. Andy just laid down on top of his chest, her stomach facing his. He wrapped his arms around her, and they both drifted off.