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A Sam/Andy fic.

Chapter Six.

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Disclaimer: See Ch. 1.

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A/N: I'm so glad you guys have enjoyed this story so far!

I'll respond to some reviews here:

Kam3910: You were right with your first thought. Sam was Traci's training officer for the day, and he was in the car next to her when Andy called. Because Sam knew she was talking to Andy, he went into the hospital with her.

..x.: I thought about having her call Sam instead, but then decided that if she was going to tell any one of her friends about what was going on, it would be Traci first. Thanks for the review!

twotoe: I'm not sure if someone would NEED to stay with her, but perhaps someone will anyway ... hehe, we'll have to wait and see.

Fly On By: Lol, don't worry, I never get upset over "constructive" criticism. And yes, I have been writing an angrier Andy than we see on the show, but that is because I feel that - given her animosity about her mother that we've seen - if her mother were to come back into her life, it would stir up many feelings, the foremost being anger. Since she doesn't want to see her mother, she is - in my fic - venting those frustrations on whomever is closest. Now, this doesn't mean that she is going to be SO angry throughout the entire fic, it will be slowly dialed down, as it would be way OOC to have her suddenly be all sunshine and daises. Anywhoo, I'm glad you're enjoying the fic so far, and I hope that this has helped you!

Everyone else: Thanks for the great reviews, you guys are amazing!

Alright, that's enough out of me. Let's get on with the story.

I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it.

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

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They convinced Sam to wait outside the room while Andy - with Traci's help - got dressed.

Andy was happy that she didn't have to try to struggle into her uniform ... it would be too tight of a fit, and she was in too much pain to put up that big of a fight. Even so, the jeans she'd worn on the way in weren't exactly comfortable. Shoulda brought sweats, Andy berated herself, sliding on her upper clothes by herself.

"So, do you want to tell me what's going on here?" Traci asked her.

Andy pursed her lips. "Not really."

"Are you decent yet?" Sam asked from outside the door.

Andy wanted to say no, but Traci beat her to the punch. "We're all clear in here, sir."

Andy glared pointedly at her, but Traci shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, maybe if I'd known anything about what was happening here, I could have ditched him."

"No, you couldn't have," Sam corrected, stepping up beside her.

"Sorry," Traci spoke quietly, stepping back to give them some room.

Andy sighed, pulling herself up from the bed once more. "Can we go now?"

"Sure," Sam replied. "Just as soon as you tell me what you're doing here."

She groaned in response, attempting to move across the room and away from him, but her movements were stiff, and he could clearly see that she was in pain.

"Nash, go grab a wheelchair from the nurses," he instructed to the other woman, before turning his attention back to Andy. "Come on, McNally, what's going on here?"

Andy shook her head, forcing her lips together as she breathed through her nose. She was working very hard to not show how much pain she was really in. "Nothing."

Sam shook his head, his hand coming out to touch her wrist. "Talk to me."

Andy sighed, wishing that she could just pass out from the pain already ... it would get her out of the awkward situation. "I'm just ... having some tests run."

Sam stared down at her. "Are you sick?" He almost didn't want to know the answer.

Andy pursed her lips, thinking carefully. "Well, I won't know until the tests come back." She knew she'd likely pay for the lie later, but she just didn't want to talk to Sam about her mother, and everything that was happening.

Traci came back in with the wheelchair, putting an end to the conversation. "Okay, let's get you home," her friend said, helping her down into the chair.

Andy winced at the pain, but managed to settle into a position that didn't leave her in too much discomfort.

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They took her to her apartment, Sam insisting that they stay until she had everything that she needed. They got her water and food, and Sam even moved her television into her bedroom so that she could watch it without having to deal with the uncomfortableness of the couch. He made her keep her house phone and her cell phone beside her, informing her that he would call her every fifteen minutes to make sure that she was okay, and see if she needed anything.

Andy finally had her apartment all to herself, but the downside of that was that it left her alone with her thoughts.

She thought about how Dr. Stevenson talked about her mother - and her family. He talked about them as though he cared about them, as though they were good people, who didn't deserve what they were going through. He talked about them as though they hadn't completely ruined her life.

Andy realized that the doctor didn't have the history with them that she did, he didn't know her mother like he did. And somehow, that made it worse. She had no love for her mother, that was a plain and simple fact. ... But it hurt to know that there were people out there who got to know a side of her that Andy never did. It hurt to know that she hadn't walked out on this family ... that she loved her son so much that she was willing to confront her child whom she had abandoned; a child who now hated her with every fiber of her being.

Andy sank back against the mattress, pressing her weight on her right side, so that her sore left side could rest.

Sam's first phone call was prompt, but his second one was running late. Andy glanced at her clock, wondering why he hadn't called like he said that he would. She supposed that he might be preoccupied with actual police work, and it wasn't as though she'd been the one to ask him to call her ... but it was still disconcerting.

Until she heard a knock at her front door, followed by the sounds of keys in the lock.

No one had the keys to her apartment, and she found herself growing worried. She wasn't in much of a state to defend herself.

"Don't worry, McNally, it's just me," Sam announced as he walked in the door, seeming to sense her distress, even though he couldn't see her yet.

Andy sighed in relief, but was still curious as to why he was there. "What are you doing here?" she asked him, seeing him come into view.

"I'm on my lunch break," he explained simply. He held up a bag of take-out as evidence.

"And you're here because ...?" Andy wondered again.

Sam shucked his police jacket, dropping himself down beside her on the bed, one of his legs crossing over the other. "Because I'm not comfortable with you left alone. Not after whatever tests they were doing at the hospital, that you seem to want to keep to yourself. You're my rookie, McNally. It's my job to keep an eye on you."

"I'm pretty sure that only applies when we're working together, not on my days off," Andy tried.

Sam shrugged. "Well, you can look it up when you're in tomorrow," he told her. "Now, eat up." Sam pulled the containers out of the bag, handing Andy a fork and chopsticks. "I wasn't sure how talented you were," he joked, referring to the chopsticks.

Andy grabbed the sweet and sour pork, narrowing her eyes at him before picking up the chopsticks. With practiced skill, she easily plucked out a piece of pork and slid it into her mouth.

Sam grinned. "Good to know," he replied, before picking up his own pair of chopsticks and digging into the chow mein.

"Don't get any on my bed," Andy scolded him, as a stray noodle dropped onto his chest.

He might have stuck his tongue out at her, if his mouth hadn't been so full.

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They were about fifteen minutes into the meal, watching an old movie on Andy's television, when there was a knock on the door.

Andy considered telling them to go away, but she figured it might be her dad coming to explain why he hadn't shown up. "Can you ...?" she asked Sam.

He nodded, setting down his container and hopping off the bed. Sam trotted to the front door, unlocking the deadbolt before flipping the door open. A tall, brown-haired woman was standing on the other side. "Yes?"

"Um, I'm sorry ... I might have the wrong apartment," she spoke in a jittery voice. "Does Andy McNally live here?"

Sam nodded his head. The woman looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. "Yeah, but she's sort of busy right now. Is there something I can do for you?"

Audrey pursed her lips, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. "Well, it's something I need to talk to her about. I missed her at the hospital today, and -"

"Oh," Sam spoke. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, studying her. After a moment, it clicked. "You're her mother?"

Audrey nodded her head. "Yes. I really do need to talk to her, can I come in? I would have called, but ..." she trailed off, not really wanting to explain to a complete stranger that her daughter probably would have just hung up on her.

"Um, just wait here a second," Sam instructed, closing the door and making his way back into the bedroom.

"Who was it?" Andy wondered, poking at her fried perogies.

Sam shuffled his feet for a moment before he answered, "Your mother."

Andy looked up at him, the perogie hung in the air. "What does she want?"

"To come in and talk to you," Sam relayed. "Do you want me to let her in?"

Andy considered her options. If she let her mother in, then she would be forced to listen to whatever it was that she had to say now - it wasn't like she could run off. On the other hand, if she told Sam to get rid of her mother, she would likely be obligated to explain what was going on, and she wasn't ready to do that, either. Chewing on her lip, Andy sighed. "Yeah, fine."

Sam nodded, returning to the front door. He hoped the door again, letting her inside. "She's this way," he told her, leading her to the bedroom.

Audrey followed the police officer, her eyes trailing down to take in the sight of him as she went. He was definitely an attractive man. She wondered if he was Andy's boyfriend. She brought her eyes back up once they got back into the room, taking in the sight of her daughter on the bed.

"Can you give us a minute, Sam?" Andy asked, not wanting him to overhear their conversation.

Sam nodded, plucking his fried rice off the bed and making his way out of the room.

Andy heard the tap run in the kitchen after a moment, and figured he was getting himself a drink. She turned her attention back to her mother. "What do you want?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Audrey sighed, deciding to get right down to the point. "Well, I was talking to Harold, discussing whether or not we should tell Bobby about what was going on, and -"

"The short version, please," Andy insisted, dropping the perogies onto the bed beside her while she crossed her arms.

Audrey sighed, stepping forward. "He wants to meet you."

Andy's face crinkled in surprise and confusion. "Why would Harold want to meet me?"

Audrey shook her head. "Not Harold ... Bobby."

Andy blinked, feeling her temperature rising, though she wasn't sure if it was anger or worry that was heating her up. "No."

Audrey stepped further into the room. "Please, Andy ... it would mean so much to him. He never knew he had a sister, and -"

"He doesn't have a sister," Andy corrected. "He has half of a bloodline that is trying very hard to not talk herself out of doing the right thing. I went and got tested, I did my biological duty. I want nothing more to do with you, Audrey, and I have no interest in putting on a show for a sick boy. Now if you don't mind, I was in the middle of something. You can let yourself out."

Her mother wanted to argue the matter, but she could tell that it was a losing battle. "Well, just ... think about it, please?" She didn't wait for an answer, just turned and left the room.

A few seconds later, Andy heard the telltale sound of her front door closing. She waited a moment, and then Sam made his way back into the room. The look on his face told her that despite her efforts, he'd heard the conversation.

"So ... who's Bobby?" he wondered.

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End of chapter six.

Well, what did you guys think so far? Like it, hate it?

I know, Andy is still quite snappy and angry, but I will be SLOWLY dialing that back.

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!