A/N: Okay, I know I neglected this story for a little while, and now I've just begun another multi... which probably wasn't the brightest idea... but oh well. My plan is to alternate between them, so, it's not like updates were frequent before, but they might dwindle even more now. Sorry about that. Read, review, and enjoy :)
"Stop biting your nails." Sam says, looking at where Andy is perched on top of the active dryer. That's the most common place for her to seat herself at the laundromat, says she finds the vibrations soothing and a little therapeutic. How she can read at the same time though he'll never know. Then again, he was prone to motion sickness.
She peeks up from her textbook, eyebrow arched, stare mean, not appreciating that she was under a microscope with him. She did tell him he'd never find all her vices. Yeah, she kind of regrets it.
"Stop chewing gum." She says, mocking tone, squinted eyes. "What're you tryin to quit smoking or something?"
She's not wrong. He quit cold turkey six months ago, and being under, in a warehouse... a lot of those guys smoke. It's basically killing him. But the gum helps. He chews a lot of gum.
He grins at her though, won't fuel the mood she's got going tonight.
It's been a few weeks since they met in this very place, and had gone back to their late night laundry routine, once every two weeks though. Sometimes he'd meet her for a bite to eat at the pizzeria close to the campus - they decided that Ceecee's wasn't either of their scenes.
She'd been tempted to ask him to that bar her dad used to go to after work, but it seemed like it would border on date-like, and it would be a different atmosphere all together. They were safe here, there were distinct boundaries, and it was easy for both of them. Things were casual, cause, you know - they're just friends.
"When is it?" He asks, finally stopping her from reading the same sentence for the eighth time. He might've been right when he said she'd have trouble reading up on top of the dryer.
"When's what?" She replies, trying to tone down her annoyance, but finding it very trying.
"Your test." He says, as if that should've been obvious. She didn't tell him about her exam... Of course, he was aware that the last of finals are wrapping up.
That was another thing that was starting to get under her skin. His little mind games. How he would just read her and then explain it back to her as if she didn't understand her own life. Who does that?
Okay, she may be aware of how unfair she's being. But it hasn't been the best of days either...
He notices her shoulders relax a little, and she puts her textbook down next to her, obviously trying to reign in the 'tude she's been giving off all evening. And by the time she's poised herself enough to answer, the machine dings, and stops vibrating.
Just. After. She. Put. The. Book. Down.
She thought she might scream.
"Andy, just take a breath." Sam says before she can grab her book and huck it across the room. "You really need to relax."
He's trying not to laugh at her, and the fact that she's struggling has his eyes turned down. Overall he hopes he looks like he's being sympathetic, because he thinks if one more thing goes wrong, she'll call it a night.
There are a couple of other people here tonight, for once, set up towards the front. So they're a little less spread out, and quieter. As quiet as they can be, Andy's growling isn't really helping. But she's trying.
"Sorry." She huffs, hopping from the machine, bringing the book with her to toss into her bag. "It's in two days, and it's the last one. I just really can't afford to take this lightly."
"Go home." He says, not without regret, but she really hasn't been a ray of sunshine anyway. "Have a hot shower and go to bed early. You'll fry your brain if you keep at it."
Andy takes a minute to stare at her bag, and the already clean clothes she's got piled in her basket, and then back to her last load that just finished drying. He watches her sigh, and open the dryer, and grab an armful of laundry before tossing it into the top of the basket, unfolded.
"You're right." She says, not really wanting to leave, but definitely ready to go to bed. "I'll talk to you after the exam."
He laughs, thankful that she won't resort to using him as her stress ball anymore. And doesn't even watch the string of words that fly out of his mouth.
"We'll go out for a drink and celebrate."
She stops the motion of throwing her bag over her shoulder midway, and stares at the back of his head, while he continues to fold his black t-shirts, and smiles, just small. Well, she didn't propose it, so that's okay...
"I know the perfect place." She says from behind him, and he turns to give her the smallest of smiles. "Night Shawn."
And that takes him back a little, every time. He's fine when he's at the warehouse, or at the office, because that's who he becomes. But not here. It's where he escapes. It's where he's himself.
Tonight he's more focused in front of the guys, but Keeley takes the lead anyway, as always. He stands behind him on the wood pallets, but stays quiet, studies the crowd, eyes open for Hill's guy, but he just sees the same crew as two weeks ago. And then one of the docking doors rose, and everyone froze for a beat, before drawing their guns.
That's when Sam remembered where he'd seen those eyes before. Case file.
Jason Duchamp, 26, Anton Hill's nephew, and the one running things on the streets.
He'd never struggled so hard with his cover than he did in that instant. Running around lying to Andy, letting her think he's decent, and hard working.
But, what if she knew? He doubted she did, that she could ever be with someone on that side of the law, her dad is Tommy McNally.
(At first he didn't put two and two together, but he definitely remembered him having a daughter named Andy. Had a photo on his desk all those years.)
His mind is reeling quite frankly, and it's all he can do to just stay where he is. No control left in his jaw that is tightly clenched, and fists that are curling into fists.
"Bout bloody fucking time!" Keeley yells, frustrated. The guy was supposed to be moving this case along, and not showing two weeks ago really screwed with Sam's timeline. But the longer he was Shawn, the longer he could put off telling Andy he'd lied to her.
But then again, right now his instinct is to leave and head straight for her apartment, tell her what a gem of a boyfriend she keeps for company.
"Sorry man, got held up." He says, moving through the crowd towards them. Sam knows he didn't spot him when he was with Andy in the streets, and still he's gauging his face for a reaction, a flash of recognition. "Jason Duchamp."
The guys right in front of Sam now, hand extended. He can't smile or say anything in response without a growl ripping from his throat, so he goes for a removed approach. Shakes his hand, makes brief eye contact before looking away like he doesn't give a crap and this guy is the biggest inconvenience.
"That's my partner, Shawn Gates." Keeley says shortly, more outwardly frustrated with the guys sense, or lack of sense, of propriety.
"Alright carry on." He says, gesturing to the group of confused dealers standing before them.
Later, in Brennan's office, four men are gathered. Keeley, Sam, Duchamp, and Brennan himself. Brennan hadn't been too thrilled to hear that Duchamp decided he didn't need to show last time, and made it very clear to Anton that he runs a tight ship, and though he wants his business, he thinks a partnership would benefit everybody, he doesn't do flaky.
Brennan was in a tough position here in this deal. If he goes into business with Hill, he's giving up a little control, and basically Hill owns anyone working for Brennan. It's a trade of hands that Sam needs to see through though, in order to get them all.
So Brennan's resistance, as well as Keeley's, towards Duchamp, was killing all of Sam's plans. As much as it was the last thing he wanted to do...
"Boss, it's a good deal." He finds himself saying after Jason's laid out the plan.
Brennan relinquishes this whole warehouse and front business, and let's Brennan go off and run the clean end of things, the real business, while Jason runs the rest. And Brennan still gets a 25% cut of Hill's profits out of this end.
It's generous, and Sam's supposed to be paying great attention to detail here, but his mind just goes off to how Andy had failed to answer him when he asked what Jason did. He knew there was an age gap, he'd already graduated, but he's been in training to take after his uncle for awhile now...
Jason shoots him a tamped down grin, and nod, and Sam feels a little sick. It's not just heroin Hill will start running through here.
"Alright Duchamp. You can tell Hill I'll meet with him. Boys, go on home." He says, directly to Sam and Kevin.
They both bow out while the other two continue to hammer out details. He's seeing Andy tomorrow. They'll talk tomorrow.
"So how far is this place you're dragging me?" He asks, just a couple of paces behind her once they step out on to the street from her apartment building.
She basically bounded out and tackled him when he buzzed her apartment. She's got this ridiculously large smile on her face, and the bags under her eyes have started to lighten. The last week was hard on her, no doubt, but she seems thrilled to be free.
"Not too far. It's called The Black Penny. You ever been?" She asks, still spinning around every street light they pass.
He just about swallows his tongue when she mentions the Penny, and thinks 'Yeah, a time or two.'
But how he's going to get them out of this, he has no idea.
"What about that place a couple of blocks from here?"
"Lucky Dingo? Isn't it kind of a hole?" She cringes, finally turning back to face him, her skirt fanning out as she does.
She looks like summer today. It is the first sunny day in a long while, but still she's embraced it to the fullest, and it's not very warm. But still, she's radiating this airy vibe about her.
And he can't help but wonder why she isn't celebrating the end of her exams with Jason.
"Don't judge a book by its cover." He huffs under his breath, his own double entendre completely missed by Andy. "It'll surprise you how good the food is."
She stops leading in the direction they'd originally taken, and makes her way closer to him. When he stays where he's standing, and just stares at her with a smile on his face she starts to get flustered and impatient, and then she begins blushing. The way he looks at her and watches her always tends to get her out of sorts, and she can't seem to do a damn thing about it.
After a couple more moments, he offers her his arm, which she takes, and they continue the opposite way down the sidewalk.
"So, Jason working tonight?" Sam asks carefully once their food has finally made its way to the table. The Lucky Dingo isn't by any means a fancy place, but it's too far down from the Penny either, and he could tell Andy was impressed when they walked in an hour ago.
She ordered a burger, which Sam is grateful for. Not one of the salad types, though obviously, judging by how fit she is, she must take care of herself most of the time. He ordered the same.
"Yeah, he's taken on a new job. He used to work at the campus bookstore, and also at a hotel. But he quit the bookstore and got fewer hours at the hotel." She says, figuring out just how to grip her burger so the whole thing doesn't fall apart. "I'll probably see him even less now."
She isn't putting much stock into what she's saying, and she's clearly trying to brush it off, but Sam can't be certain that it's because what he's doing now is shady. She probably just doesn't want to start talking about her doomed relationship again. Neither does he, but if she can provide some answers...
"Anyway, how's your job going? Adjusting okay?" She asks, sincerely. He told her he hasn't been in town long, and the job is still pretty new, that he and his colleague don't always see eye to eye. He feels bad when she gives him advice that would work under real work circumstances, but it's a little too touch-y -feel-y for the drug world.
"Yeah. There's a new new guy that the guys hate more than me, so that's something." He says, wanting to dismiss that topic too. It's hard getting to know someone when he can't really say anything about himself in return... not that he would if this were even regular circumstances, but he'd be able to give her something. And it wouldn't be a complete lie.
He could tell her about being a cop, about his rookie years. He could tell her about the training officers they've got now. He could tell her how great her dad is at what he does, and even though things haven't gone his way lately, he's a good man.
He could've let her take him to the Penny. Could've told Oliver that he's actually starting to feel something more, for once. He could, if things were different.
"That's... something." She says in agreement, giving up on finding a better word.
"How's being freed from the shackles of your desk?" He grins, wandering back into safe territory.
She smiles, and he knows he's struck the sweet spot. This'll keep them on something else for a while. Now he can just watch her talk and smile and throw her hands around when she tells stories. Watch her get really passionate about the future she's chosen for herself. For a brief moment, he wonders if maybe one day, she'll end up at fifteen...