Note: Does anyone else get a little sick to their stomach when they go to post a chapter? I must have gone to delete this thing half a dozen times. Anyway, thanks again for all the reviews. I am seriously addicted to them.


The morning after the accident, Andy slept until nine. She'd turned her alarm off before getting into bed next to Luke and fallen asleep almost instantly. She woke up alone, feeling stiff, and she sat up slowly as her head swam a little from the painkiller she'd taken the night before. She yawned as she walked toward the bathroom and flinched at the sight of her face in the mirror. The bruising had deepened a little to a dark purple and the area around the stitches looked a little more swollen than they had the night before. Even though she knew better, she pressed on the skin gently, wincing when the ache sharpened to a point.

She took a shower and got dressed, and was brushing her teeth when she heard a pounding on the front door. She rinsed her mouth and toothbrush and walked to the door. She opened it to find Kate standing there with a large brown grocery sack.

"I'm so glad you're awake. I don't know what I would have done with this stuff if you didn't answer. I heard you had a busy night last night so I brought some stuff over. I didn't think you'd feel much like cooking or anything." She glanced at Andy's face for a moment. "It doesn't look that bad. The scar is kind of bad-ass." She walked past Andy into the house.

Andy followed her into the kitchen where she started unpacking. "Sorry this stuff isn't made fresh this morning, but I only heard about the accident a couple of hours ago, and didn't have time to get stuff in and out of the oven. The sandwiches were just put together though." She started pulling out food. A loaf of bread, a baker's box of cookies, half a dozen sandwiches, a bag of coffee and a box of tea. "I know you like the coffee but I didn't know if you would want that, so I also brought tea. Which do you want?"

Andy sunk into one of the kitchen chairs and yawned again, propping her head up with her hand. "I'll try the coffee, I guess."

Kate busied herself with the coffee, digging around in the drawer under the coffee pot for the filters and finally the sound of the dripping coffee filled the quiet room.

"Did you want something to eat? I can make you something or you can have some of this stuff." Even though she didn't really feel like it, Andy relented.

"A cookie sounds good."

Kate smiled and handed her the box. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I grabbed three or four of everything. You'll probably be eating them for a month."

Andy said nothing, just picked one out of the box.

"Sorry to just bust in on you like this. I know you probably don't feel much like visitors, but as you probably figured out by now, I'm a little pushy." She grinned and Andy, in spite of her moodiness, found herself smiling back.

"The chocolate chip ones are delicious."

"The gingersnaps are my favorite." She looked over her shoulder. "Sounds like the coffee's done."

They sat there for about an hour, and Andy found that she was relaxing, much the same way she had at dinner that night. Kate had a presence about her; something that was fun and familiar and she seemed to have no fear or anxiety at all about sitting across from someone she barely knew.

"I know you're not really feeling up to it right now, but if you want, there's live music at this place down by my shop. Every Friday and Saturday this month. It's not a very classy place, but it's a good time. You and Luke should stop down sometime." She caught the slight change in Andy's expression. "Or not."

"I don't really think it'd be his kind of thing, but I'll ask. Plus, he and Sam aren't exactly friendly. Actually, right now, Sam and I aren't that friendly. Also, I look like some kind of botched science experiment."

"Well, nothing lasts forever. You guys will get your shit figured out, and your face will go back to normal. It'll all work out." Kate smiled and stood up and put her coat on. "Well, I have to get back. My staff is pretty good, but sometimes the lunch rush is a little more than they can handle."

"Yeah, I have to run into the station sometime today. Not really looking forward to it."

"You might as well just get it over with. Besides, I'm sure everyone wants to see you." She walked to the door, bag slung over her shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

"You too. Thanks for the food. I really appreciate it."


At the station, she sat at a table for hours, reading and rereading statements and accident reports. She filled out papers for HR, and talked to everyone from Best to the department shrink. By the time she was finished, she was more than ready to get out of there. Luke was nowhere to be found. She'd been keeping an eye out for him the whole time, but he was gone.

That evening she returned to a dark house. When he came home after nine o'clock, she was awake and waiting for him. He walked in after hanging up his coat and she was sitting in a chair at the table, eating cookies and reading her training book.

"Hey stranger."

He frowned. "Hey."

"Where were you today?" She folded over the corner of the page and set the book down.

"Work. I had a lot of stuff to take care of."

"I was there all afternoon and I didn't see you."

"I had to go to a crime scene. I was there most of the day." He pulled a beer out of the fridge, opened it and leaned against the counter, taking a long drink.

She frowned at him. "What's wrong? You're being kind of…I don't know…weird."

He shook his head and sat down. "Where'd you get the cookies?"

"Swarek's girlfriend Kate brought them. She brought a bunch of other stuff too, if you're hungry."

"His girlfriend?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah, she stopped by this morning. I think you'd like her. She actually invited us to go out with them sometime." The set of his shoulders was tense, and she put a hand on his arm. "Luke, what's wrong?"

"Andy," he began, cautiously. "I woke up last night on the sofa, and you were gone. Where were you?"

She looked at him. "Why?"

"Just tell me," he replied tersely.

A look of understanding passed over her face and she stood up, closing up the box of cookies. She picked up her glass of milk and finished it, placing it in the sink. "Judging by your tone and the expression on your face, you already know I was outside talking to Sam. So, is there something else you were fishing for?"

He watched her, waiting with eyebrows raised.

"Luke, if there's something you want to know, you're going to have to ask." There were dozens of questions that he wanted to ask, but at the last second, he held back.

"I just thought it was a little late for visitors, I guess."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. "He worked late and he heard about the accident and wanted to see how I was. I wasn't asleep anyway. He didn't wake anyone up."

"He could have called."

She frowned. "What's the difference?"

"You just looked really…comfortable with each other."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then explain it to me."

Andy stared at him. "Swarek and I aren't even getting along right now. He was just worried."

"You were out there a long time for two people who aren't getting along." he asked.

"I guess I just needed someone to talk to."

"Andy, I was here with you. You could have talked to me. I tried to get you to talk to me, and I got nothing from you."

"I don't know what you want me to say. I needed time to process everything and then I went outside, and he was there, and it just all came out. It's no big deal."

"I think it is."

"Well, you're wrong. And honestly, it's not really any of your business." She met his eyes then, daring him.

"Andy, it is my business. When people are in a relationship, they talk to each other; they trust each other. I just want to know what's going on with you. You're not exactly an open book these days."

"Luke, I am not keeping anything from you," she said slowly, feeling herself getting angrier with every passing second. "There are just some things I have to work out for myself. It has nothing to do with you. So just give me some space."

He blew out a breath and rubbed his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." She pushed away from the counter and walked out of the room. "My face is great, by the way. Thanks for asking."


For the next day or so, Luke gave her a wide berth, but he stayed to have breakfast with her, and attempted to make conversation. She had to give him credit. He was really trying. He even tried to run with her on his day off. Her head felt a little better after a few days, and so she'd been running on the treadmill for short distances while he was at work. But the weekend rolled around and the weather got marginally nicer, and as she was lacing up her shoes, he showed up in sweats, with hat and gloves in hand, ready to leave with her. She'd had a little time to cool down, but she still wasn't convinced that it was a good idea.

"I'm not sure how far I'm going today."

"Andy, I do 3 miles on the treadmill a few times a week."

"I usually go farther than that."

"Just give me a chance. I'm in pretty good shape."

"And running on the treadmill isn't really the same as running outside."

"Andy. I'm making an effort here." She looked at him. He really was kind of adorable; all eager in dark sweats and shoes that had never touched anything but the rubber belt of the treadmill. And she had to appreciate the effort he was making.

"Okay. But I want to do at least four."

"I'll keep up."

She wanted to do more than four. She'd combined several training schedules she'd found and figured out something that she thought would work. Or it would work if stuff would quit distracting me, she thought to herself. She would do one long run on the weekend, and a few shorter ones during the week. During some of the shorter ones, she would alternate a fast pace with an easy pace to get her speed up. This run was supposed to be a long one, but she could bump the long one to later in the week. With Luke, she decided it was best to keep it simple.

He did his best, really. But by mile 2, he looked exhausted. He'd started off too quickly, Andy suspected. She'd matched his pace, although it was a little faster than she liked. But her level of activity was leaps and bounds above his and so when he started to slow, she had finally settled into a decent rhythm. At 2.5, he had to slow to a walk, motioning for her to continue as he caught his breath. Not wanting to waste the weather, she did another half a mile before turning around to come back for him. By the time she reached him, he looked like he might be able to do some more and so he jogged slowly next to her until he couldn't anymore. From there they walked back home together.


On her first day back, she had to fill out even more paperwork regarding her return after the accident. After lunch, she was in the car with Swarek, patrolling. Without intending to be, she was wary and stiff. The night he'd come to see her, they'd both been under a certain amount of stress and their walls had been down. He'd said that nothing had changed between them. If she hadn't been in that accident, he wouldn't have shown up, and she knew that. So today, in her mind, it was almost like it had never happened. And now she was anxious at the thought of spending the rest of the shift in close quarters with someone who'd barely said three words to her in the last two weeks.

They were polite, trying to find some way to slide back into the familiar, but it wasn't happening. Every desperate silence made her think of the things he'd said to her that night at the Penny. And every time she looked at him, he flashed momentarily to times before they started having problems. They were having trouble shutting out the past and it was making it difficult to move on.

On the second day, the tension went up. They both knew that there were things floating just below the surface and however unwilling they were to address them, Andy knew it was only a matter of time.

And so on the third day, when the pressure inside her escalated to an almost unbearable degree, she finally said something.

"This isn't working for me."

"What isn't."

"This. Us. Us trying to pretend that things aren't extremely messed up between us."

He turned the corner, keeping his eyes forward. "Is that what we're doing?"

"I don't know. But I can't sit here anymore like this."

"Andy," he said in a quietly controlled voice. "It's just going to take some time."

"How is time going to help when you can't even look at me?"

He turned his head and met her eyes for a few seconds before turning back to the road.

"You know what I mean."

"If we talk about this now, can you promise me that we won't have to rehash it every single day?"

She nodded, biting her lip nervously. "If we can figure out some sort of compromise, we don't ever have to talk about it again."

"Alright, let's have it."

"I didn't actually have a plan for what I was going to say."

"C'mon McNally. This is the only chance you're going to get, so you might as well spit it out."

She sat quietly, looking out the window, trying to find the words. Finally she said, "I guess I want to say that I'm sorry." His eyes cut to her, questioningly. "I shouldn't have assumed that you'd just always just be there. I mean, you're an adult. Obviously, you're going to have a life. I was being selfish. And I'm sorry." She looked out the window, avoiding his stare. "I guess I just want everything to be normal again."

They drove in silence for a minute or two while Sam digested her apology.

"Andy," he said, his voice pained. "This…" he struggled for the word. "This business between us, it can't go back to the way it was. The things we said, we can't take those things back. They're going to be here with us, every time we're together, and I just don't think I can pretend that they aren't. Trust me. I've tried. I've been trying for weeks."

"Try harder." He turned his head and they locked eyes momentarily and then he turned back. "We don't have to be best friends, again. I just want us to be comfortable. So try harder."

He thought about it nodded slowly. "Okay."

"We can just keep things neutral for a while. It doesn't have to get personal. We can leave those parts of our lives out of it."

He gave a short cynical laugh, raising his eyebrows. "Right."

"I can keep the details of my private life to myself," she maintained.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Fine. Let's just make a deal. From now on, we leave it at home."

"It's not going to work, McNally."

"Would you just agree already?"

"Fine," he said rolling his eyes.

They drove on silently for a few minutes.

"Was I really your best friend?" he asked, jokingly.

"Shut up."


The next week was better. There was still tension, more stilted conversation and awkward pauses. But they were settling back into a rhythm. When they were taking calls, Andy could imagine that everything was returning to normal. Their working relationship hadn't suffered much. Sam could still read every thought that passed over Andy's face and she found that she could still predict his movements in a given situation. When it was just the two of them, and there were no uniforms, and no protocol to follow, things on her end started getting muddled. And so as far as she was concerned, the less alone time they had, the better.

"We have a robbery in progress." Andy and Sam were riding through the city early one evening when they heard the dispatch. He responded to the call and made a U-turn, speeding down the road.

"The jewelry store on the counter," Andy pointed. They parked the car and walked toward the store. Sam peered in the window. He nodded to Andy and they entered, guns drawn.

There were only three people inside; the owner and two of his staff. After quickly clearing both the show room and the back offices, Sam put away his gun.

One of the women pointed towards the back door. "He just ran out."

Sam nodded toward the door as he reached for his notepad. "McNally, go check it out."

She walked to the back of the store and poked her head out. About halfway down the alley, she saw a guy wearing jeans and a green jacket walking just a little faster than normal.

"Hey, stop," she yelled as she walked out the door. Without looking back, he took off. She hit the button on her radio and reported that she was in pursuit and ran after him. He ran down the alley for two blocks and then veered off through an abandoned lot. About four blocks into the chase, she noticed his pace flagging a little and picked it up. Snow was coming down in earnest and she had to work to avoid the slush puddles as she chased after him. As she rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of him tossing something up into a dumpster. She finally tackled him in at the end of that alley five blocks away from the jewelry store. She sat up, a knee in his back and holding his wrists and radioed Sam to come pick them up.

The guy was struggling and so by the time Swarek pulled the car in, she had just gotten him cuffed and was checking his pockets. She found his wallet and pulled out his ID. "Lenny Williams, 26."

"Get off him, McNally." She stood up, pulling him up with her and handed him off to Sam. He put him into the back of the car.

"He didn't have anything on him."

"Yeah, the store clerk said she activated the silent alarm when he pulled the gun. They stalled him for a couple minutes, and he ran out when he heard the sirens. He didn't get anything. You've got to be pretty stupid or pretty desperate to try and rob a store like that in broad daylight. They have cameras everywhere."

"I vote for both." Andy rotated her left ankle, feeling a little twinge.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. I saw him throw something in the dumpster."

He smiled. "Then you'd better get in there and check it out."

"I ran him down. Maybe you should go check it out."

"You caught him. Don't you want to keep all the glory for yourself?" He grinned.

"I don't think so."

"Wanna flip for it?" he suggested.

"Not really."

"Well that's the only chance you have of getting out of it, so you might as well."

She rolled her eyes and flung her hands out in exasperation. "Fine." As he smirked and dug in his pocket for a coin, she glared at him. "You know, sometimes you get that look on your face, like you think you're being funny or clever or something, but you're really just being an ass."

He laughed. "You're breaking my heart, McNally."


Ten minutes later, trash bags had been flung over the side, and she was covered in old food scraps, what smelled like rotten fish and had some unidentifiable liquid soaking up into her pant legs. She had to work at it to keep from gagging and she held her breath, digging through the remaining trash, trying to make the task as short as possible. "Hey, give me a bag." He handed her an evidence bag and she reached down with a gloved hand, and picked up a gun that had sunk down between the garbage bags and into a puddle of sludge. She handed the bag over and as Swarek started walking away, she said "Aren't you going to help me out?"

"Honestly, I don't really want to get anywhere near you right now." He grinned. "You climbed in; you can climb out." He walked over to the car to wait.

"Thanks," she shouted at him. "Really nice."

She got out, managing to smear something else disgusting across the front of her shirt and coat. Andy brushed frantically at her clothing, but only succeeded in making it worse. She climbed in the front seat and Sam rolled the windows down.

He laughed. "Sorry McNally." She flushed angrily. "You had to throw it in a dumpster behind a restaurant, huh?" Swarek said over his shoulder to the guy in the back seat.


Sam and Andy got back to the station and after a short stop in Booking, she was in the locker room cleaning up. She had to wash her hair three times before she could be sure she'd gotten the slime and the stink out. Andy wrapped a towel around herself and walked over to the lockers where she combed her hair and got dressed in a fresh set of clothing. She had just pulled an ace bandage out of her locker when someone knocked on the door. She looked over her shoulder as Sam poked his head in.

"Hey, are you almost done?"

"Just about. I'll meet you out there in a minute."

She sat on the bench facing her locker and started wrapping her ankle. She heard him walk up behind her.

"How is it?" he asked as he looked over her shoulder.

She shrugs. "I think it's alright. Just feels weird. You shouldn't be in here." She was trying to pull off nonchalant, but her nerves were jangling a little, and her hands shook when she wrapped her ankle.

"God, McNally. How'd you pass your first aid training?" He straddled the bench next to her. "Here, give it to me. You're making a mess of that." She moved so she was also sitting astride the bench. He took her ankle and rested it on top of his knee and started rolling up the bandage.

"How bad does it hurt?"

She leaned back on her hands. "It doesn't really. I just feel a little weakness every now and again when I step on it."

"Maybe a little rest."

"Trust me. I'm resting enough. I have to train."

"Well, if you don't rest it, you won't have to worry about training." He held her foot as he started rolling the bandage on. "A couple of days here or there isn't going to derail you too much. You'll get back to it pretty easily. Is this too tight?"

She flexed her foot and then shook her head. "No, it feels okay."

"They're putting that guy in a room, so when you finish up in here, we can start in on him." He pinned the end of the bandage. "Move your toes."

"It's not too tight."

"If you say so." They sat there for a long quiet spell, her foot still on his knee. It looked like Sam was about to say something. His eyes were on the wall over her shoulder, and for a second they flicked to hers and he opened his mouth.

The door to the locker room opened, and they jumped, startled out of the moment. As Jerry stepped in, Andy stood up and moved to her locker. His eyes followed her curiously and then settled back on Swarek. "Sammy, your guy in interrogation says he's got a tip. He wants a deal."

He snorted disdainfully. "What does he think he has for us?"

"He says he has information about the murder of Zoe Martinelli."

Sam froze for a second and then stood up. "Get Callaghan."