Hey guys,

First of all, let me tell you how much I like the fact YOU like this story. You in person and you as a collection of people from all over the world. So many fabs and alerts are such an encouraging back wind to move me on and make me continue writing!

And the reviews… what can I say? You inspire me. You make me want to give you something great in return, to show you that your reviews are taken to the heart, and your criticism (if there is any) is considered as constructive.

So… without further ado….

(and remember: I do now own Rookie Blue)

:)

One last look at the mirror on her way, and Andy was out the door.

She cleared some bangs off her forehead and checked her watch while running down the stairs, knowing she has exactly one and a half minutes to get to the bus stop across the street or she'll be late for work.

Again.

The first time was last week. She was awake half the night figuring the details of her 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' plan and when she finally fell asleep she didn't hear the alarm and woke up late.

The expression on Miss B's face was something Andy will be more than happy to never see again.

So today she woke up earlier and was about to leave on time when she noticed a runner in her stockings and had to change, which led to her being almost late.

Again.

She reached the bus stop breathless as her body was not in shape like it used to be, and felt the fumes and smoke the bus left as it drove away from her. She missed it. Forcing herself to breathe slower and think of a solution, she lifted her eyes and saw a gray Porsche SUV stop right before her. A dazzling smile greeted her through the opened window and said good morning.

JD offered her a ride to work.

Rachel climbed up the car smiling, and JD took off.

If he'll do this more often, she thought, the goal of keeping enemies closer will be reached faster than I planned. This way I can talk to him without everybody else around us. Yay!

She smiled at him, and he felt how the fake smile he had when he first saw her turned real all of a sudden. So he smiled back, knowing his dimples are showing.

He hated dimple his way into someone's heart, but he had to become her friend to protect her.

Keep saying that to yourself, buddy. Yeah right. You want to PROTECT her… from what exactly? If she's a cop sent undercover she's competent enough to make it without you. You want to protect her from other man. To eliminate the competition. Admit it. Saying she needs your protection is your lame way of rationalizing why you couldn't sleep since you saw her last week, and why you crossed town in this early hour because you weren't sure what time she gets on the bus. So yeah… let's say you need to PROTECT her…

Sam found himself wondering for the umph'd time why was she here, and how come Peck didn't know about it, and what exactly was her OP, if it was an OP, and… and… does she like Chinese?

His mind drifted to other thoughts, the kind that haunted him in his waking hours late at night. The kind he didn't want to think with her right beside him.

Rachel sat so close to him, and yet she looked so distant.

He couldn't find anything to talk to her about. So he just drove the car in silence.

Being away from decent society for so long took small-talk away from his daily vocabulary.

Across from him, Rachel started feeling he offered her a ride as the companies' chauffeur, and not as a possible friend. Despite his friendly smile when he stopped and offered her a ride, he felt distant now. Like oceans away from her.

She sighed in despair.

She wanted to talk.

So badly.

She needed to talk.

To him.

To anyone.

She just spent the entire weekend alone, talking only to the cashier at the store two blocks down the street.

She rolled her eyes in their pits, trying to calculate how many hours it had been since she said anything.

Twenty? Twenty two? I was at the store yesterday morning, which means it's less than twenty four hours, but more than eighteen because…

"You had a nice weekend?"

Rachel didn't realize she allowed her mind to drift away from the car. She snapped out of it, and whilst she knew she wanted to talk, she could find nothing to say.

"ehhm… yeah… you?"

"Yeah. I had a great weekend."

"What'd you do?" this was really the most predicted small talk she ever had, but her mind was uncooperative, so it will have to do.

"I went shooting" so here's a clue for her… maybe she'll catch on it and start to question me about myself… that will be good. It will be great. But do I want her to know I'm undercover? And what if she switched sides and she's now part of Edmond's OTHER business, whatever that is? What will I do then if I expose myself to her?

Oh boy.

He sided his eyes to get a better look at her response, but she held her poker face well.

"Shooting?" her voice was stable though thoughts were running chaotically in her head. She struggled to keep a stoic expression. Is he trying to intimidate me? To warn me? He knows my secret. He saw me in uniforms. He can tell Edmonds in a flash that I'm a cop, and I'll be fired and there will be no resolution in this case. Unless he didn't recognize me… So what will I do?

"Didn't see you as a weaponry guy. More like a gym guy" she mumbled faintly, this being the only response available to her lips, not knowing why his physical appearance was the first thing that came to mind when thinking what to say.

"Well... I'm both... Ever held a gun in your hands?"

What a stupid question... he SAW her with a gun at hands - pointed at him.

And they both vividly remembered that day, though for very different reasons.

"It's one of the best feelings there are. Very powerful." He stopped and cleared his throat, silently begging his lips to stop. In ten seconds his mouth went from zero to one hundred stupid words per minute. He heard no answer for a while, and was glad she had the decency to not answer such a stupid rumble of thoughts.

Whatever reason she's here for, he decided, I can't reveal to her that I remember her from that day. I can't risk it until I know what side she's on.

She turned her head to his direction, trying to look at him carefully and stay discrete.

This conversation felt forced and unnatural, and as much as she liked to talk, Andy hated conversations like this. But Rachel had no choice. She needed to become friends with him, so she kept talking.

"So... I got to know my neighborhood this weekend, put some things in order, unpacked..." her voice died as she had no more lies to say about this.

Not without risking her already questioned credibility.

Whatever happens, HE must be the one to say he remembers that day. I can't expose myself unnecessarily if he doesn't.

He looked at her and back at the road, one hand rubbing the other hand's forearm while he contemplated what to say. He knew she had nothing to unpack. He knew she had nothing to 'put in order' in her new place. That's what is gut feeling told him, and he believed it. So how can he respond to that without calling her secret out?

He run his tongue on his inner cheek, then took a deep breath and let it out in a whispering slow puff.

There goes my chance for small-talk with her this morning. Damn!

Finally, after too long in silent ride, they arrived to the underground parking lot.

Andy took a deep breath while looking at her watch, glad she wasn't late after all.

Silently they walked side by side to the elevator, none of them saying a word.

When they reached the firm's floor and walked out the elevator, Julie just came out the other elevator. The fact that JD and Rachel came together on a Monday morning made her open her eyes and blink fast to allow the vision time to register in her mind.

She smiled even a bigger smile than usual, and laced her arm in Andy's, leading them both pass Miss B by the front desk. They greeted her good morning, and Julie determinately lead their way to the kitchenette.

"So… spill it!" she commanded Rachel.

"Spill what?" one cheek on Rachel's face rose as her eyes got crooked in the question, and both her hands were thrown in the air, turning sideways.

"You… JD… over the weekend… Admit it! Something happened that day he took you to the store last week. And you kept it going over the weekend. Right?"

"Wrong, Julie. You're soooo wrong. I was late this morning and missed the bus by seconds. It just so happened that JD was there and he offered me a ride. That's why we're here together. Nothing else."

"Oh" Julie was clearly disappointed "but if something DOES happen, you come and tell me, right? If he's off the market I need to know."

Rachel laughed and poured them both some coffee.

The rest of the day went by fast. Rachel didn't see JD, and was glad for that.

Nearly an hour before the day ended, Miss B came to Rachel's desk.

"Miss Rachel?"

Andy raised her eyes and looked at her, trying to think if anything's wrong – she wasn't late, she didn't spill anything today, and after lunch she checked herself in the mirror in the bathroom and nothing got stuck in her teeth or stained her clothes. She almost finished her daily list of chores. So what was it?

"Mr. Edmonds is ready for you now. Follow me."

Rachel bounced fast from her chair. A meeting with Mr. Edmonds on her fourth day was something great, wasn't it?

Following Miss B to one end of the hall, they entered Mr. Edmond's corner office, with city-wide view.

The Toronto skyline from this room was breathtaking. Andy never saw it from this angle, and felt proud to belong to such a beautiful city. To serve and protect its citizens.

Rachel walked in, and Miss B closed the heavy wooden doors behind her. Rachel was just turning around to thank her, and the doors slammed.

"Come here, Miss Rachel. Come join me, please" Mr. Edmonds called her from the seating area to her right, tapping his hand on the sofa next to him. Rachel slowly approached, concentrating her thoughts on walking slowly to disguise her limp. The pitter-patter of her heels muffled by the rich shaggy carpet.

She chose a sofa opposite his, and sat down keeping her legs glued and slightly bent and her hands in her lap lightly fisted, like she saw in the movies real ladies should do.

"I wanted to welcome you to our firm, Miss Rachel." He wore a big smile that stretched between his ears but didn't reach his eyes, and Andy found herself doubting her being here in this firm.

Edmonds mistook Andy's silence for embarrassment, and continued.

"I wanted to tell you something about our firm. This firm (he opened his arms as if standing on a preacher's stand and giving a sermon about the world) was built with a lot of love, dedication and hard work (hands down). Love to our clients and dedication to give them the best legal advice and the hardest work possible. Most of the people to walk in through these doors (hands up again, pointing the doors) are wealthy and prosperous (and hands back down). They all expect the best from the best law firm in town.

Andy found his hand movements were occupying her eyes, and knew it looks like she's following his every word, while she actually thought how many times he practiced this speech to reach such precision and streaming.

"And the 'best' means the best legal advice, and the best looking staff to accompany it. Some of our clients are about to be locked for a long time, and whatever they see here will stay etched in their minds for that time. That's one of the reasons for them to come back. So we give them what they expect, and they pay us back and recommend us to their friends. And that's where you, the girls, come in to the picture. Sure, we need someone to type the data into the system and all, but if our client knows his data was handled by someone like you – he feels his case is an easy one because it can be handled by a model."

Andy couldn't believe what she just heard. He basically admitted to hiring her for her looks, only so male clients could gorgel at her for fun, and also that looks and brains can't come together… how could this guy be one of the top legal minds in Toronto, and have so little respect for woman?

She rubbed her fingers against her thumb in both hands to keep herself from snapping at him. Realizing the effect of that is minimal and she's going to lose control, she got up from her place and walked to the window, hugging herself while taking the view in and breathing deeply to relax. This is not the time or the place to lose it. This is only one more step on the way to accomplishing what she's here for.

She realized too late she made the wrong move.

"The view here is something… isn't it?" he kept talking, ignoring her discomfort, and his voice was closer to her. He was up and walking towards her.

Rachel nodded without looking at him. She couldn't look him in the eyes after what he just said, and how he got closer to her.

"Anything else, sir?" she had to get out of here. Fast. He was giving her the creeps.

He stood in his place.

"Not at all. I just wanted to welcome you to our firm."

And stare at my figure against the sunset. I can feel your eyes burning holes in certain parts of my body.

Rachel turned around and slightly nodded. She walked to the door without saying a word, and closed it behind her, forcing the disgusted thoughts to stay inside.

"Rachel, it's a door. You knock and you enter." The voice behind her was unmistakably his.

She turned her head to face him, the rest of her body still parallel to the door. The expression in her eyes startled him and guarding instincts kicked in. "you okay?" he reached his hands to her arms and turned her body to face his. Her head moved up and down just a bit while her lips formed the word "fine".

"Come" he ordered. "I'm taking you home."

He started walking to her desk, grabbed her purse and walked to the elevators, so confident she will be right behind him that he didn't even check.

During the ride to her place she didn't say a word.

How can she share her feelings with a stranger? With someone that can ruin whatever she's trying to achieve here? Can she trust him? Can she trust herself to know when to stop talking?

She can't.

So she won't.

Sam wanted her to talk. Needed to know that nothing happened in Edmond's room that did this to her.

"Did he do anything to you, Rachel?" something in this name felt wrong, unfit. Probably a cover name, like mine.

The silent movements indicating 'NO' were all he wanted. And he got it. The tension that built in his stomach since he saw her outside the room dissolved.

He walked her up to her apartment, needing to be sure she's safely inside and lock the doors. She was clearly shaken by something and didn't want to share it with him. He understood and respected that.

He noticed how she scrambled her hand in her purse, and wondered what else was wrong.

"You took the keys from the drawer?" she asked faintly.

"Just took the purse and that's it. Why? You don't have a key? You wanna go back and take them?"

"No. it's fine. I'll manage."

She'll never admit she needs help. She got it covered.

He raised a questioning eyebrow, and she pulled a black utensil from her purse. Sam opened his eyes in shock. A pick-lock kit? In her purse? What is she doing carrying this around?

JD looked as Rachel skillfully picked the lock.

She smiled at him. First real smile since they left the office. Shrugging her shoulder she admitted: "my dad taught me on my twelfth birthday"

Sam was dumbfounded. What kind of a father teaches his kid how to pick a lock at an age most parents ADD locks to their doors so the kids won't sneak out? What kind of education did she receive? Maybe she IS crooked.

He didn't get a chance to ask her about her dad, as his phone rang and this was a call he had to take…

This chapter turned a little longer than planned, hope you liked it!