Chapter 6
Sam slowly opened an eye in an attempt to figure out where the banging was coming from. There were several problems with falling asleep on your couch after demolishing half a bottle of whiskey, the ones plaguing him at this precise moment being that you wake up being not quite aware of where you are, what is going on...or at this point, he wasn't even completely sure who he was. It took about five minutes for him to realise that the banging was not coming from his throbbing/exploding head, and that there was someone at the front door...his front door, and they were showing absolutely no signs of leaving him alone. Sam slowly manoeuvred himself off the couch and shuffled towards the front door, opening it harshly with a scowl – which quickly turned into a scowling squint when the bright morning sunlight attacked his eyes.
"Oooosh...man that is not good! You look like hell"
"Oliver."
"Care to invite a friend in...I've brought breakfast."
Sam narrowed his eyes in suspicion at his uniformed friend that was currently darkening his porch. "Don't you have work to do?"
"I can't work on an empty stomach – you know that." Oliver pushed past his friend, and made his way to the kitchen – putting on some fresh coffee and unpacking his breakfast donuts. Sam didn't have the energy to argue, so left him to his own devices and took refuge back on his couch – swallowing a few pain killers in the hope that it would rid him of at least one of the pains that insisted on loitering with him this morning. "So...you and McNally?" Oliver mumbled through his donuts, as he made his way through into Sam's living room and perched himself on the coffee table so he could talk to his friend.
"So...?"
"So... – didn't see that one coming...not at all...complete surprise. I think we're all in a state of shock..." Oliver gave his friend a knowing smirk, and took another bite of his donut.
"You're an ass."
"Merely stating a fact my friend...So what's with this?" Oliver reached down and picked up Sam's discarded whiskey bottle and waved it around in front of his face. "You're supposed to be taking it easy – not drinking yourself into a stupor – should I be concerned? Do I need to stage an intervention?"
Sam shifted uncomfortably, and avoided Oliver's pointed look – choosing instead to try and divert the conversation. "How are Zoe and the girls?"
"I asked first."
"What?"
"I know a deflection when I see one. You and McNally have been working together too long – it's almost too hard to tell you apart. She was in even more of a fowler mood than you this morning, and I could barely get a word out of her...I had to get Nash to translate her mumblings." Oliver gave himself an imaginary pat on the back at Sam's piqued interest - he could read him like a book. Sam felt his stomach churn, and a pang of something he couldn't quite identify listening to Oliver talk about her. He missed her. He missed her ridiculously, and it hadn't even been twenty four hours yet – he was in serious trouble.
"You've seen Andy?"
"Yep." Oliver reached for another donut off his plate, and waved the remaining ones under Sam's nose – which he irritably brushed away.
"She ok?"
"Don't even think about it."
"What?"
"You guys cannot see each other right? You need to keep your noses clean – it's gonna be a while before this thing blows over."
Sam groaned and rolled his eyes at the glare currently being levelled at him from across his living room. "What?"
"I'm being serious Sammy...if not for your sake, then for hers. Suspended within her first 2 years on the job – it's not gonna look good. She needs to be careful – you both do."
"She's a great cop."
"That's not the point."
*Ok – I already have a headache...did you come here for any particular reason this morning, or was it just to torment me?"
"Well my friend, I just thought you might take some comfort in the fact that she is also feeling this, and is just as miserable as you – that, and also the shirts want to go over some parts of your statement with you again this afternoon, and I thought I should pre-warn you that I overheard Frank talking about a psych assessment – standard procedure, you know how these things go – someone attempts to kill you and they think it will do you good to rehash it all and talk it out."
"I'm so glad you woke me to tell me that – they would've probably called me you know."
"They tried – no answer on your cell, which is why they sent me over here – it's by your coffee machine in case you were wondering, and again I'm going to say to you – you can't contact her."
"What..."
"I think she may have tried to call you a few times...there's like 20 missed calls on your display, 3 from the station – 2 from me, 2 from Sarah and the rest are from McNally."
"You checked my phone?"
"It was in plain view."
Sam clenched his jaw, and attempted to quieten his overwhelming urge to hit something. Oliver sensed the change in atmosphere, and decided it was best to opt with a change a subject. "Anyways, Zoe wants you to come over for dinner tonight – she's worried you're not looking after yourself. Shall I tell her you'll be by at 8?"
"I don't think..."
"I'm not asking. Just tell me what time you'll be there."
"I can't."
"What do you mean you can't – where are you going?"
"Nowhere...I ju..."
"Then it's settled – dinner with the Shaw's – 8pm, don't be late."
"Ok, Oliver – in case you hadn't noticed – I'm not the best company right now. I don't want to scare the girls, and as nice an offer as it is..."
"You'd rather drown your sorrows in whiskey by yourself all night...?"
"No...I..."
"Like I said...not asking. If you not at my place by 8 I will come looking for you. That being said, I have to go. I'll see you later – and I can see myself out, you stay put...and get some rest." Sam nodded his head in acknowledgment, waited until he heard Oliver shut his front door and pull the car out of his drive, and then made a beeline straight for his kitchen and his phone.
...
Sam scrolled through the missed calls and messages one by one – skipping through every message except the ones from Andy – unable to stop a ghost of a smile appearing as soon as he heard her voice.
"Hey...It's me – Andy...obviously. Um...ok, I just...I'm at Traci's. I wasn't sure if you would want to see me so...I really think we need to talk – can you call me when you get this? Ok – I'll speak to you soon. Bye."
"Hi – it's me. Just thought I would try and get you again, but I guess you're busy. Ok – well, I have my phone so just call me back when you have a chance. Ok – bye."
"Hey, was trying third time lucky...anyways, I hope you're having a good night and...yeah...ummm...call me back. Ok – hopefully speak to you soon. Bye."
Several missed calls later...
"Hey...*sigh*...I'm sorry. Ok, Sam...I know you're mad at me. I'm not even sure what happened...I just...I don't want to fight with you. Will you please just call me so we can work this thing out...please – I miss you."
"Sam...Hi. Ok – if you don't want to talk to me then that's fine, well not – but it's not like I can force you so...will you please just let me know you're ok. If you don't want to call me then just send a text – I won't stalker call you back – I'm just worried about you. Ok...bye."
Sam hung up the phone and instinctively pressed in his speed dial – voicemail. "Hey, It's Andy...I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message after the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
"McNally...Andy...I just picked up your messages...I...um...ok, If you pick this up before lunch and you still want to talk I'm at home – just come by, or call – whatever. I have to go down to the station this afternoon, and Oliver is insisting I have dinner at his place later – but, I'll have my phone so...yeah, just let me know...and I'm not mad at you." Sam notched the volume up to loud on his ringer, and slotted his phone into his back pocket – there was no way he was missing her when she called back.
...
Sam had excused himself from the Shaw household by 11 – despite their insistences that he could take up residence in their spare room. He had been battling the after effects of last nights' alcohol intake all day, and he really just wanted to go home and go to bed. He pulled up in his driveway, and pulled his phone from his back pocket – the screen was blank – no missed calls, no messages, and felt his disappointment twinge. He tried calling her again, but it went straight to voicemail so he didn't leave another message. He didn't notice the huddled up bundle of coat, scarf and hat on his porch until he was half way up the drive – but he picked up his pace as soon as he did, finding himself looking down at a snoozing, probably hypothermia suffering Andy. He stepped over her to unlock his front door and then returned no later than a few seconds later lifting her up in his arms and carried her through the hallway and up the stairs laying her down on his bed, and gently lifting her head to pull off her hat. He brushed her hair off her face and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before she began to stir.
"Sam...?"
"No...It's a crazy axe murderer who has just collected you off my front porch. What were you doing McNally – it's freezing outside."
"I wanted to see you."
"Your eyes are still closed."
Andy prized open one of her eyes, and smiled up at him. "Hi." She reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers, gripping his jacket and pulling him towards her with the other, kissing him gently in greeting.
"Hi. You should've called – how long have you been sat out there? Its sub zero temperatures out there tonight"
"I missed you." Andy reached her other hand towards Sam's face and lightly traced her fingers along his stubbled jaw line. She had, even though she had tried not to...it was almost like a physical ache that had only eased now that she was able to see and touch him. Sam felt his heart twinge at that statement, and the sincerity of it that he could see written plainly across her face. He allowed her to pull him closer, nudged his nose against hers and leaned into her enough so that his lips ghosted across hers before pulling away from her and pushing himself off his bed. He knew that they should talk, that they needed to clear the air – but right now he felt too exhausted, and the only thing he wanted was sleep. Sleep and to have Andy curled up next to him, and for her to still be there the following morning. He pulled an old t –shirt out of the set of drawers in the corner of his room and passed it to Andy with a small smile.
"Make yourself comfortable – I'm just grabbing a shower."
Andy returned his smile, took the offered t-shirt and began to strip off her winter layers, while watching Sam head towards the bedroom door with a towel. "Sam...?"
"Yeah"
"We're ok right?"
He turned around to answer her, but for a second couldn't find any words. She was looking at him with those huge brown eyes of hers, that were displaying such vulnerability and emotion – and he really wanted to promise her the earth. Perhaps, given time and if he had the confidence and sure footing of knowing how this was going to pan out he would, but for now he went with the best he could – offering her a quick re-assuring smile. "We'll deal with it...figure it out. I'm not saying this is gonna be simple, but you're not getting rid of me that easily."
"I don't want rid of you."
"Then we're good..." He flashed his dimples at her in confirmation, and made his way down the hall with the hope he would return to bed with a McNally snuggled under his duvet.
