A/N: Late, late, late. I know and I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. But I'm finally back with this last chapter which was an excellent reminder of why I haven't done a song-fic in years; they're bloody exhausting. A little heads up: not much Sam/Andy interaction in the first half since it's mainly Sam's musings. Anyways, I hope my struggles were worth it and that you enjoy this. It's a long one. :)

Disclaimer: Since I don't own Rookie Blue, I guess writing fanfiction will just have to suffice. And the song I use belongs to its rightful owner, a band I would also love to own but very tragically, don't.

Chapter 2, Pt. 2

"Come on, Sam! Hurry up!"

"Jeez, McNally, where's the fire?"

"I'm gonna set you on fire if you don't chug the rest of that beer."

He looks at her standing in front of him, arms folded across her chest, and fights a smile. For some reason, he's always found a slightly irritated Andy adorable. But he knows better than to push her any further especially considering the fact that she seems completely capable of delivering on her threat at the moment. Getting to his feet, he just manages to drain the last of his beer and set the glass back on the table before a hand grabs his own and proceeds to drag him back to the arena floor, something that he was growing quite used to as the night wore on.

They get back to their seats but remain standing as the rest of the floor seemed to all be on their feet. The buzzing is louder this time, he notices, and the air is practically alive with anticipation, causing the hair on his arms to stand on end in spite of himself. Beside him, Andy was all but bouncing off the walls as she, Kate, and Gemma share anxious giggles of delight, barely able to contain themselves.

For the second time that night, the lights begin to dim and the buzzing escalates to a steady rumbling, cheers and claps filling the air. From the massive speakers mounted in every possible direction, the announcer's voice echoes through the arena, asking the crowd to welcome the headlining band. Backlights light up the stage. The band walks on.

And all hell breaks loose.

For a moment, he honestly thinks that his ears have exploded. It just didn't seem possible for humans to be able to hear at that frequency and volume. And the ground is shaking. Honest-to-God shaking. Like if he ever had the misfortune of being caught in an earthquake, this is what he'd expect to feel.

When he realizes that he actually hasn't gone deaf, he becomes aware of a shrill shrieking coming from his left which has oddly distinguished itself from the thousand others that reverberate through the Centre. He turns, fully expecting to see some crazed fan from the row behind him screaming in his ear, and for a split second, that's exactly what he thinks he's looking at. And then he takes in her soft, dark hair, black dress, and endless legs and it hits him.

Andy.

Andy going ape-shit crazy.

Thoughts have never failed him like how they do at that moment. So, he stands there, at a complete loss, staring at the woman he thought was his partner but honestly doesn't even recognize now.

She's screaming at the top of her lungs, arms thrown wildly overhead. "Adam, I love you!"

As mesmerized as he is by this side of her that he's never seen before, he turns sharply to look at the stage when those words leave her mouth and his gaze lands on a man dressed in jeans and a white v-neck with heavily tattooed arms standing at the edge of the stage.

"How's it going, Toronto?" he asks into the mic.

The screaming intensifies, including Andy's and he has a sudden overwhelming urge to beat the lights out of this Adam guy.

The frontman laughs at his response and when he tries again to get a word in, he's quickly drowned out by the echoing roar of his adoring fans.

Back on his left, Andy has now resorted to bouncing on the balls of her feet, arms waving frantically at the stage. And she's still screaming his name.

Someone shoot me, he begs silently. If he ever doubted Andrew's words about this band before, he certainly doesn't now.

Eventually, the crowd (and Andy) calms down enough for the frontman to get a few more sentences out, introducing his bandmates and thanking the crowd for showing up, before the music begins and the screaming is reduced to much more tolerable levels. This, however, does little to improve his feelings towards the frontman so he stands there, thinking that maybe if he glares at the man long enough, he might just spontaneously combust. He spends the first few minutes like this, firmly resolved on hating the guy, not caring how petty it sounds. But unfortunately for him, what he doesn't count on is just how damn catchy the songs are and all it takes is Andy flashing him one of her mega-watt smiles for him to grudgingly give up his silent vendetta and give in to the music.

Once again, they're light years away from anything that he's used to but considering what he'd been expecting, they're actually not that bad. So he temporarily forgets about the frontman and his current unyielding grasp on Andy's attention and makes an honest attempt to enjoy himself. Which, as it turns out, isn't too hard when there's very little about the band to actually hate, all competition for Andy's affections aside.

An hour later and he's nearly completely allowed himself to let bygones be bygones after seeing Andy break out into the widest grin he's ever seen during the second intermission. If she was happy then that's all that mattered. Hell, he'd sit through a hundred more concerts if it meant he'd helped in putting that smile on her face.

Up on the stage, the band had just finished another song, an up-beat number about moving like Mick Jagger or something to that effect, and was preparing for the next. In stark contrast to the fast-paced drums and keyboard that had been dominating much of the set, the slower, softer sounds of a solo guitar being plucked now fills the Centre as the song begins.

Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else

It's one he recognizes as having heard once or twice before but never really paid attention to since it never was his thing anyway. This time, however, he has nothing else to keep him occupied and he can't help himself when the lyrics start painting images of a certain rookie in his head.

Andy McNally.

Where does he even begin with her?

It's been nearly a year since she literally came barging into his life, busting his cover and blowing the operation of his career. He remembers that day just as clearly as he remembers Sarah's wedding or the birth of his niece and nephew. He remembers her wide-eyed look of apprehension as she trained her gun on his chest, the way she swayed slightly from side to side, trying to decide whether or not she should just take him and Pedro on right there. He remembers her voice, jumpy and shrill, commanding him to follow her orders, her hesitation with every move she made evident as she went solo for the first time.

She's come a long way since then. They both have. And in that year, he watched as she grew as an officer, as a protector of the peace, something that didn't come at a fair price. She's different now. Stronger, braver, and smarter, sure. But her walls are just as solid as they were before and she's nowhere near letting others in easy, a testament to the toll this job has taken on her. He knows he doesn't always let it show but he remembers what it was like to be a rookie, to feel like you could never prove that you were cut out for this job and she's had her share of troubles as well.

He saw her through it all. The first time she took part in a sting and screwed it up, the first time she felt the cold barrel of a gun against her skin, the first time an innocent bystander died in her arms, the first time she killed someone. He was there and at her side every time even when she was too stubborn to admit she needed someone.

But it never should've been him. Not really. He was her partner and she was his rookie and God knows he would do anything for her but she wasn't his to console. She was Callaghan's and he constantly had to remind himself of that. Even now two months after they had broken up, he still can't completely shake thoughts of her with the blond detective out of his head as much as it kills him to do so.

I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I've had you so many times
but somehow I want more

The crowd is singing along in full force now, causing the lyrics to echo even louder around him, and the corners of his mouth tug into an ironic smile.

Hardly anyone would ever picture him to be, except those who knew otherwise, but he was a notorious player when he was young. Girls swooned over him, his infectious dimples and perfected Swarek charm simply proving to be too much to resist, a fact that he loved and Oliver and Jerry hated. He dated girls left and right, never settling for too long before moving on to the next. Not wanting to be the bad guy, he always made it clear that he wasn't serious and for the most part, neither were they. He was young and having fun, an eager rook quick to flash his badge and uniform to impress the ladies and he loved every minute of it.

Until he didn't. Until he decided, shortly before he turned 30, that a different girl every other month just wasn't for him anymore. So he settled down some. He stopped serial dating, hooking up with random girls he and the guys met at the Penny; he even took up working the night shift for a few months so that he had an excuse not to go trolling for women. Eventually, he had a steady girlfriend for a while, a cute barista he met when securing a burglary one day, and he was happy. But she wanted a family and he didn't, not yet at least, so they ended it. He bounced around a little after that but with hardly the energy he had when he was a rookie. Instead, he worked, jumping at the spot in Guns and Gangs when it opened up, and at the time, he was content to live for his job.

And then he met Andy. If you had told him that day when she busted him and Pedro that he would fall head-over-heels in love with her, he would've laughed at the absurdity of it all. Regardless of how the air had been sucked out of his lungs upon first seeing her, she was a rookie and a pretty clueless one at that. But he had misjudged her that first day and he soon found himself unable to keep thoughts of her out of his head.

And now here they are, in a position he never thought they'd be in just a year ago. He's been her training officer and partner, confidant and friend. He's picked her up when she was too drunk to drive or too tired to walk, held her when she collapsed in his arms and when she fought to get out of them. And he'd be lying if he said that's all he ever wants to be.

But he knows it isn't that simple. Ever since the blackout, he's spent his time drawing a line, a line that clearly distinguished what they were to each other; partners by day, friends by night. He hates it, goddamn does he hate it. But she chose Callaghan and he was tired of constantly dancing around her and whatever that undefined thing between them was. And so everyday he busts his ass to not cross that line and everyday it gets a little harder not beyond that line he's not her partner or her friend. He's something else entirely. And he's not quite sure that she's willing to let him be that. Not yet, at least.

Tap on my window, knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore

Sometimes he thinks about how different things would've been if she had chosen him first. Sure, there's the fact that they would've had to keep it a secret, at least until she got cut loose, but aside from that, the "what ifs" float tantalizingly in his head just beyond his grasp.

He never would've made Callaghan's mistakes. First of putting his job before Andy and second of sleeping with his ex. The moment he found out about Andy calling off the engagement and why, it had taken every fiber of self-control he possessed not to storm into Callaghan's office and beat his head into the ground. The man was an idiot. An oblivious, thick-headed idiot who didn't have a clue of what was right in front of him and even though his mistakes were probably the best things to have ever happened to Sam, they had simply broken Andy even further, a fact that made his blood boil and his heart ache.

No, he definitely wouldn't have made Callaghan's mistakes. Andy deserved better than that. She deserved someone who didn't take her for granted, someone who made her feel beautiful in every way that mattered and he would've done just that. He would've shown her exactly what she meant to him with no ands, ifs, buts, or ors about it. He would've made it clear that nothing mattered more to him than her, not his job, not his reputation, not his life. He would've loved her, cherished her for every second of every day and he would've known that he was the luckiest man in the world to do so.

But she hadn't chosen him first, not by a long shot, and now they're both trying to figure out what the hell to do with themselves now that her choice had gone and blown up in her face.

It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You come anytime you want

She's never exactly told him this but he knows that the reason she has such a hard time letting people in, the reason she chose Callaghan is because she doesn't want to get hurt. On paper, the blond detective was perfect. Smart, charming, handsome, and a solid cop. But most importantly, he was reliable. There was no mystery when it came to him, no question as to what he wanted in life. He was a detective through and through and he certainly had no plans of going anywhere.

Which was something that couldn't be said for Sam. He was flighty, never wanting to be tied down for too long to one thing, a trait that had always governed his actions both on the job and in his personal life. He lived for the excitement, the thrill of the chase and they both knew it was only a matter of time before Guns and Gangs knocked on his door and asked him to disappear once more.

And that was exactly what she didn't want. She wanted safe and simple and he wasn't that. She had gone with Callaghan thinking that things would be easy with him because she was tired of being left behind and with Callaghan maybe she wouldn't have to be.

But if there's one thing he wishes she would understand it's that you can't always get what you want. It can't always be easy or simple or perfect no matter who you were with. And even if it was then what the hell kind of relationship would that be?

So he may not be Callaghan and he can't promise her safe. He can't promise that there won't be tears or heartbreak or that the next time Guns and Gangs showed up at his door, he'd provide them with a very colorful place as to where they could stick his new fake ID. But what he can promise is that he'll fight for her, for them, and for everything in between because he won't be making the mistake that so many others had made before. He'd be in it for the long haul and even if she can't trust herself with that just yet, she can trust him because he knows that there won't ever be anyone else.

I know where you hide alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls

It'd probably send her running for the hills if she knew but he's been able to see right through her walls since the beginning. For most of her life, she's tried to cover up her past, thinking that if she kept all of it hidden and buried in the deepest parts of her where no one was ever allowed then maybe she'd somehow manage to leave it all behind.

She could be Andy McNally, the headstrong, independent rising cop who wasn't any more damaged than the next guy, not the rookie from a broken family trying to carve a way out from under the shadow of her father's troubles and for her, that distinction made all the difference.

But despite her best efforts, her barriers aren't as impenetrable as she thinks they are.

Because he knows about her mother and how she abandoned her only child in the middle of the night without a second glance back. He knows about her father and the way he crawled into a bottle in an attempt to understand why his wife would leave him to raise their 12 year old daughter alone. He knows about her fears of being left behind, of having to fall with no one there to catch her when she did. But most importantly, he knows about how she dealt with all of that, how she decided that the only way she could control when anything ended was if she was the one doing the leaving. She couldn't bear to go through what her mother had made her go through all those years ago again so she figured that if her mother could run then so could she and she's been running ever since.

He also knows that that's exactly why he's in the position he's in now. Ever since they first met, she's kept him at arms' length away, her walls ensuring that he never got close enough to completely undo her. But she's human and every once in a while when working the streets gets particularly hard or when the ghosts of her past come back to haunt her, her walls start to crumble ever so slightly and in those moments, he sees the scared young girl who was forced to grow up too soon staring back at him. She breaks and starts to fall, her defenses stripped bare by the cruelties of her job and life, and he's always been there to catch her when she did. Even when she was with Callaghan and the blond idiot was actually there for her, there were times when she still turned to Sam because there were just some things that only partners could understand and because maybe deep down she knew only Sam could give her what she really needed.

But those moments never last very long and when she realizes what she's done, that she's just allowed him to see a part of her that he was never meant to see, it ends as soon as it began. She panics and scares and pushes him back behind the line they were just flirting with until he's back in comfortable territory, in that safe, little space where he's just her partner and friend and he can't hurt her if he ever left.

It's a process he's more than familiar with as much as it tears him apart. Because he knows it's only a matter of time before it starts all over again. Before her walls come crashing down around her and she needs someone to break her fall. And he'll be right there beside her when she does because even if she still pushes him away, he's her partner and he'll always have her back.

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye

With a final pluck from the guitar, the song finally ends and overzealous screams immediately erupt from the crowd, something that he would've detested just over an hour ago but now just can't even bring himself to mind. Rather, he finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from the beautiful creature standing next to him, her arms still flailing wildly in the air. She turns then, glancing over her shoulder to look at him, and his eyes meet hers for the first time since the band took the stage.

It's the happiest he's seen her in a long time, with that exhilarated smile still spread wide across her face, and he finds himself wishing for the moment to never end. Because right now she isn't trying to outrun her demons or keep him at arms' length away and for her, these moments come few and far between.

He smiles back and it's then that he knows that he would gladly spend the rest of his life doing anything to keep her smiling like that. Because he doesn't want good-bye, not when they've come this far and screwed up this much. What he wants is her, all of her but she needs to let him in and she can't do that when she's trying so hard to push him away. Of course, he gets she's scared of trying this again, of putting her heart on the line one more time. But hell, he is too and after everything that's happened, they owe it to themselves to figure this out because they've danced around it long enough and they can't keep doing it forever.

So she may not be quite ready to move forward with him just yet but he'll wait for as long as it takes until she is because she's worth it. Because he doesn't want anyone else. Because behind those earnest, hazel eyes and guarded smile is someone he wants to love for the rest of his life if only she would find it in herself to let him.

And he hopes to God that she will.

He's broken from his thoughts by the upbeat tempo of the next song but the rest of the concert passes fairly quickly and the next thing he knows the band is saluting the screaming crowd one last time before ducking off the stage for the night. Lights flood the arena, momentarily blinding him as his eyes slowly adjust to the change in brightness. All around, people are making for the exits so he turns to Andy only to find her still squealing away with Kate and Gemma, completely oblivious to his presence. He chuckles at the sight, deciding to let them get it out of their system, and another minute passes before they finally find it in themselves to leave the arena.

The three women chatter excitedly the whole way through the Centre with Sam merely serving to guide them to the exit in humored silence. Not that he minded since it wasn't like he had anything valuable to contribute to their conversation anyway. Somewhere between the concourse and the escalators, Andy's hand had once again found his own, her delicate fingers safely enclosed in his calloused ones, and he marvels at how natural it feels.

Exiting the Centre, they're met by the cool night air and he pulls Andy a little closer when he feels her shiver slightly beside him. A moment later, she produces a camera from her purse and he's given the position of impromptu photographer as she, Kate, and Gemma all pose in front of the giant Maroon 5 poster that's draped over the Centre's entrance. After snapping several pictures, he makes to hand the camera back but it's plucked from his hands by Gemma before he can while Kate nudges him towards Andy. Catching his partner's apologetic look, he shrugs, tossing her a roguish grin as he does, then slings an arm over her shoulders and turns his smile to the camera.

They cross into one of the parking lots where Andy's new friends announce that this is where they parked. After the girls exchanged numbers and reluctant good-byes, Kate and Gemma turn their attention to him.

"You'll take care of her, won't you, Sam?" asks Kate as she gave him a quick hug.

Laughing, he breaks away and slips an arm around his partner's waist, pulling her towards him. "I always do."

The significant looks and raised eyebrows shared between the two departing women isn't lost on him but he shrugs it off as they head off into the night.

His arm still firmly around Andy, he steers them in the direction of his truck, noting the way her head came to rest lightly on his shoulder. They walk in silence for a moment with Sam entertaining the thought that he could get quite used to having her at his side like this before…

"Oh, my God!" she exclaims suddenly, breaking away from him with a slight jump. "I totally forgot to call Traci."

With that, she whips out her phone and dials her friend, effectively ending Sam's daydreaming. Smiling as he listens to her very un-Andy like squeals to Nash, he continues leading them around the block until they finally arrive at his truck.

As he suspected, traffic is horrendous yet again but still considerably lighter than when they arrived so he settles in for the lengthened drive to her apartment while her seemingly minute-by-minute play-by-play of the concert fills his ears.

Nearly 30 minutes later, they're finally nearing their destination and Andy, sensing that this was so, quickly wraps up her storytelling and after profusely assuring Nash that she would call her back in a bit, hangs up the phone.

He slides his gaze over to rest on her for a quick second. "You good? You don't need me to hose you down or anything?" he asks in reference to the fact that she looks about ready to spontaneously combust out of sheer exhilaration.

She shakes her head, her bottom lip caught quite adorably between her teeth, and he can tell that it's taking every ounce of self-control she has to keep her from erupting into a fresh wave of delighted squeals.

It's only when he turns onto her street that she finally trusts herself to speak normally.

"There's construction on my block so you're gonna have to park a block before."

He nods and follows her instructions, pulling over by the park down the street from her apartment.

"What're you doing?" she asks when he unbuckles his seat belt.

"Walking you to your apartment."

"Sam, I'm a big girl. You don't have to— "

"No 'buts,' McNally. I was raised to be a gentleman." He flashes his dimples, effectively silencing her protests before getting out of the truck.

They head down the street, the full moon and street lights offering adequate light for their late stroll. She shivers again and he mentally kicks himself for not bringing a jacket with him today so he simply moves closer to her, the backs of their hands brushing every so often.

"You know, if you really did have plans you didn't have to go with me," she says, kicking a rock along the sidewalk. "I could've gone alone if I had to."

"But I really didn't have plans so I did go with you."

She looks at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Oh. But didn't you and Jerry have that paintballing thing with Haight and Ashbury?"

"Oh that." It had started a couple years ago when he and Jerry challenged two of Jerry's fellow D's to a paintball match after a retraining session at the firing range. Word quickly spread and by the end of the week, several other teams of two were created. Since then it's been an ongoing power struggle between the various teams of the 15th Division and while the matches did get fairly intense, they were always all in good fun. "It's tomorrow actually. But Jerry got called into court last minute so I had to duck outta the match. I could've taken Haight and Ashbury on without him though."

She smirks. "Yeah, 'cause you're Jason Bourne."

"And I'm awesome."

A soft chuckle escapes her lips but she says nothing in response to his playful cockiness.

They walk for a while in comfortable silence, the clicks of her heels the only sound filling their ears.

"You have fun tonight?" he asks after a moment.

"Absolutely. It was one of the best nights I've had in a while." She pauses, chewing over her next question. "This is probably a long shot all things considered but did you have fun?"

All things considered, he probably shouldn't have enjoyed himself as much as he did but any excuse to spend time with her was more than worth it. "Yeah," he replies quietly, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. "Yeah, I did. Although I probably could've done without the screaming and the hysterics and my ears being blown out."

The tips of her ears immediately turn an adorable shade of red. "Sorry."

"Yeah, you certainly know how to torch a guy's ego, don't you?"

"Oh, please." He can practically hear her eyes rolling. "Hell would freeze over before I could torch your ego."

"Touche."

She giggles, shaking her head at his antics. "But they were awesome, right?"

"For a boy band. Ow!" he exclaims when her open hand smacks the back of his head. "Okay, yeah, they were good. And considering that I don't generally listen to that stuff that's the best you're gonna get."

"You're impossible."

"I try." A beat. "It was interesting though. Being at a concert again."

"When was the last time you went?"

"Maybe…fifteen years ago. I was a big concert junkie back in the day."

She arches an eyebrow, her interest clearly peaking at this revelation. "Concert junkie Sam Swarek? Now that is a sight I'd pay to see."

"I'd rather you keep your money then."

"Are you kidding?" she continues in a tone that sounded like she had just been told that Christmas had arrived early. "You with a mullet, leather pants, guy liner…I can't think of a better way to blow some cash."

"It was the 80s."

"That line's getting old."

He gives an exaggerated shrug. "I followed the bands. Bought the CDs. Went to concerts dressed like everyone else. I'm sure you can relate to that."

Under his pointed look, she nods her acknowledgement. "I suppose I can. However, Traci and I have been trying to see Maroon 5 for years and we just got around to it now."

"Why's that?"

"They never came to Toronto when they were first starting out. Then Traci had Leo and that put a stopper on her social life. I think she probably had an ulcer when she found out she couldn't come tonight."

"I'm sorry she couldn't make it then," he says although a big part of him really isn't that sorry at all. "Speaking of which, how'd I end up going on this little adventure with you anyhow?"

"I already told you."

"Wasn't exactly paying attention."

She rolls her eyes but answers, "Traci had to watch Leo tonight since her ex is in the hospital. So she told me to find someone else to go with me."

Somehow, they had reached her apartment and they ascend the steps leading to the complex door.

"So, I'm your 'someone else?'" he asks, turning to face her at the top of the steps, a hint of flirtatiousness creeping into his voice.

She considers him for a moment, her hazel eyes dancing, then flashes a shy smile and he swears right then that she's never looked more beautiful. "Yeah. You're my 'someone else.'"

The weight of her admission and everything she can't say out loud just yet falls heavily between them, causing his heart to falter slightly as it does. If that was her way of saying what they'd spent the past year ignoring then he'll gladly accept it.

"Thank you for coming, Sam," she says softly after a beat. "I know you didn't have to."

"Anytime." He nods, ready to bid her good-night, when an idea pops in his head and a mischievous smile starts playing on his lips. "Although I do believe you owe me something for agreeing to let you torch what would've been a very exciting night at the Penny."

"Name your price, Swarek."

He looks down at her, the moonlight casting soft shadows across her face. As bold as he is, he knows that his next move will completely blow up the line he's been stoically maintaining which could very well erase whatever progress they've just made in crossing it. But he's just given himself the perfect excuse so he damns the possible consequences to hell and presses his lips lightly against hers. A small noise of surprise escapes her but she makes no move to push him away, instead bringing her hands up to rest on his stomach. Encouraged by this, he coaxes her mouth open gently with his own and his tongue makes a tentative sweep across her bottom lip. Her taste is intoxicating, like strawberries and chocolate, making it damn near impossible for him to retain the sense to stop before they rush into something they won't be able to turn away from. So he allows himself to explore her heavenly mouth a moment longer, only vaguely aware of her hands snaking up his chest, before pulling away with what little self-control he has left. They exchange quick breaths for several seconds, neither wanting this to be the end of things.

But he has one more request.

"Tomorrow. 1:00. Wear something dark," he murmurs against her lips.

Her eyes flutter open just so and she looks at him through heavy lids. "That was two 'somethings,'" she points out rather breathlessly.

"Well, then I guess you'll just have to figure out how to make us even." He cocks his head with the challenge, daring her to meet him halfway, then steps back and retreats down the steps, the taste of her lips still lingering on his.

"I'm a lousy paintballer." Her teasing voice calls after him.

He turns slightly to look back at her and is pleased when he sees that her slightly dazed expression still hasn't completely lifted.

"You sure you don't wanna ask someone else?"

The question leaves her mouth but he knows that she doesn't really want him to reconsider. A devilish grin tugs at his lips.

"You are my 'someone else.'"

After all, two could play that game.

A/N: Jeez, that was long. Writing parts of this chapter was like pulling teeth and the ending went through a million revisions before I finally thought it was decent enough. I'm not entirely happy with it but I'll let you decide how good it was. Once again, thank you for showing this much enthusiasm for this story. I always like to know that me spending hours and hours typing on my laptop and phone is worth it. If you're reading this, thanks so much for sticking with it. So, drop me a line if you'd be so kind and tell me what you thought. Until next time! :)