AN: Longest chapter yet! I really hope you like it. I have had a horrible day. My beautiful one and a half year old kitty, Rudy, had to be put down this morning. Anyway, I distracted myself with writing and thus, here is chapter ten. Thanks for all your kind reviews and support. Please review! I know I am sometimes poor at responding, but I appreciate every single word. Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's 100% Sam and Andy. Because we could do with that right now. Well, it would have been all them, regardless, but you know what I mean! One more thing, you might want to reread Just Say Yes chapter seven. You'll see why. x
IX:
Andy slumped down in the passenger seat of Sam's truck, the seatbelt digging into her chin. The gaze of her brown eyes darted nervously out the windows.
'What are you doing?' Sam asked, a little goofiness in his tone. Just like the first time he'd asked her that.
'I'm hiding.' She wished she had a duvet to burrow under.
'You're gonna hurt yourself,' Sam said, glancing across at her uncomfortable position.
'This is a bad idea,' she said quickly, seemingly ignoring the fact that he had spoken.
'Yeah, like I said,' Sam spoke, eyes on the road. 'If I hit the brakes you're gonna choke yourself.'
'Not that. This!' Andy said, frustration evident.
'What?' Sam glanced across at her, more amused than anything. Right now, the upset and grief of her family troubles seemed to have left her. He knew it wouldn't be for long and was waiting for it to catch up with her. Most likely when she was least expecting it. It didn't matter though, he was ready.
'Being out together,' she clarified with raised brows and a jutting, sharp chin.
Sam himself raised a brow. 'Wanna find a cheap motel to hide out in?' He grinned.
'Sam…' she scolded. She was serious.
'Andy, there aren't any cameras,' he teased when she peered out the side window, her eyes just above the bottom of the glass.
'Duh,' she said. 'But someone could still see us!'
'We're out of fifteen's area. No one from work is gonna see us here.'
'You don't know that for sure,' she said, accompanied by raised brows - again - and a quick head shake as she looked across at his profile.
'No,' he admitted. 'But I do know that you need to work on your hiding skills.' Andy's brow furrowed a little and Sam clarified, nodding in her direction. 'Top of your head's visible, looks more like I've kidnapped you.' He wasn't even looking at her now, eyes on the road. It didn't seem to matter.
'You have kidnapped me!' Andy exclaimed melodramtically, creeping further down into the seat.
Sam grinned and shook his head a little as he watched the road ahead. The truth was, after sitting together in Tommy's apartment for long enough for him to convince her to 'screw the rules', - adapting her words and using them against her, kind of anyway - he'd decided she needed a change of scene, and fast. Sitting in the dingy apartment had been doing nothing to distract her or lift the weight from her hoodie-clad shoulders. He'd suggested they get out of there, and Andy had willingly obliged. No questions asked, surprsingly.
But now, out of her father's apartment and with her other concerns having taken a hiatus, she seemed to be focusing on the current problem. They weren't supposed to be together.
Sam looked across at Andy again, her bottom lip sticking out and resting against the edge of the seatbelt.
'You're pouting,' Sam said in controlled amusement.
'No, I'm not,' she denied.
'Mhmm.' Sam mumbled, neither denying or conceding. His eyes were back on the road.
'Sam… really, we shouldn't be doing this.' They stopped at a red light.
Sam swallowed, lips parting and staying that way for a few seconds before he spoke.
'Andy. I stuffed up before. I don't care about the bereaucratic rules of a suspension neither of us should've gotten in the first place,' he said firmly. 'You are what matters to me. Okay? You.' The light turned green.
'Sam…' she protested. The engine revved and they were moving again.
'Andy. If you want me to take you home and that's it, then I will,' he said. 'I won't like it, but I will.'
'What would you like?'
He shrugged. 'You. Me. Together.'
'Together, huh?' she teased lamely, as if to diffuse the seriousness that had crept in. 'Presumptuous much?'
'That's not…' he began to explain, concerned she had gotten the wrong idea.
'I know.'
'Don't take me home.'
'Okay.'
She smiled and crept upwards in her seat.
But only a little.
Better to be safe than sorry.
x x x
'Where are we?' Andy asked when they pulled up outside a warehouse in an area of town she was not a complete stranger to, but was far from knowing well. She looked out the side window and then back out the front, as if the panoramic perspective would offer great insight.
'A warehouse,' Sam replied evasively.
Andy turned to face him, chin dropped and looking at him, unimpressed. 'Helpful,' she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
Sam grinned and nodded his chin in the direction of the warehouse. 'I just gotta pick something up.'
'What?' Andy asked.
'Surprise, McNally,' he said, grinning.
'I hate surprises.'
'Oh,' he said simply, a playful sparkle in his eyes. 'So what was I?'
'An ass.'
He wasn't expecting that. 'Thanks,' he replied sarcastically.
'Well, you were,' she said without malice.
'Yeah,' he agreed, a tight-lipped grin on his face. 'Sorry.'
She shrugged. 'Water under the bridge.'
Very zen and all that.
'Okay then, Buddha.'
'Hey, I am letting you off easy!' Andy protested, smiling.
'I know,' Sam replied seriously, the meaning greater than the current topic of discussion.
'I didn't mean...' Andy trailed off. She hadn't meant anything by it and had not wantered to dampen the mood.
'I know.'
Andy nodded a little. 'You gonna go get this thing, or what?'
'Yeah, yeah,' he replied with grumpiness that was clearly fake. Andy giggled. 'You coming?' Sam asked, glancing over at her as he opened the truck door.
'I thought it was a surprise,' Andy said, getting out of the truck, nevertheless.
He shrugged and locked the truck, the keys jangling in his hand. 'It is,' he said. 'Until we get inside.'
He lead the way around to the side of the buidling, Andy followed close behind, ponytail flicking about in the wind. She could feel the cold air through the denim of her jeans.
The warehouse in front of them was four stories tall, nestled in between other buildings that looked even more run-down and virtually abandoned.
'I have two theories,' she said as they walked into the shadows at the side of the building.
'Go,' he prompted. 'Shoot' never seemed appropriate.
'You have a fancypants dinner set up and are planning on proposing.'
'Fancypants?' He glanced back at her with a dimpled smile and raised brows.
She shrugged, a goofy grin on her face. 'You know in those romantic comedies where the guy takes the girl to some abandoned building and is being all secretive? Then it turns out it's beautiful on the inside and he has a table all set up with candles and flowers. And usually there is a violin player. And a chef.'
'Never seen a romantic comedy in my life, McNally.'
'Too cool for that, too.' She said, picking up on a conversation from her second visit to his undercover place.
He scoffed under his breath and fiddled with his keys as they reached the heavy side door, searching for the right one.
Suddenly Andy realised she might have freaked him out. She wasn't serious in her suggestion of a proposal. It wasn't even a suggestion, not in a way that meant she wanted it to happen. She didn't expect or want such a thing.
It worked out so well the last time, after all.
Not that it was fair to compare Sam to Luke. She knew it wasn't. But regardless, it was way, way too soon to be thinking about marriage.
'I don't mean that I'm expecting… I'm not expecting you to um, propose or anything. I mean, it's way too soon, not that I think you would be thinking about it… seriously, just forget I said that okay?'
Sam let her ramble, clearly enjoying her nervousness and letting her go until she ran out of steam.
'Andy. I get it,' Sam assured her, an amused grin on his face. He swore there was a blush on her own. He found the key he was looking for and shoved it in the keyhole, wobbling it a bit to get it to sit right. 'What's the second one?'
'What?' Andy asked, snapping out of her embarrassment and ending up confused.
'Your second theory. You said you had two.' Sam leant on the door, as if waiting for her to say the password and be granted entry.
'Oh, right,' she said. 'Theory two is that you are planning to kill me and dump the body.' She spoke with deadpan humour.
Sam moved off the door and grinned. 'Nope,' he said, pushing the door open. 'Maybe next week,' he teased cheekily.
'Hey!' Andy said as walked through the door, Sam right behind her.
x x x
Sam flicked the lights and the flourescent glow swept through the concrete-floored space. The ceilings were high and the space was open, with a few moveable partition walls. There was random furniture arranged in rows - clearly being stored rather than used. Sheets covered some of the pieces further toward the back.
'Uhh… you're a hoader…?' Andy suggested, totally confused. She peered around one of the divider walls and saw stacks of storage boxes.
Sam touched her shoulder and gently turned her to face the wall behind her. A plaque hung on the wall. Most of it was taken up with a familiar logo.
'Toronto Police Service,' Andy read the text on the logo out loud. Next to the logo, embossed in all capitals, read the words GUNS AND GANGS TASK FORCE.
She tuned to look back at Sam.
'So, what? This is part of Guns and Gangs?' She asked, wandering between the furniture.
Solid black desk with more scratches than desk. An arched floor lamp that seemed to defy gravity given the size of the pendant at the end. A glass coffee table that was in much better condition than the wood one upside down on top of it with a leg that was clearly crooked.
Sam let her explore, trailing behind her as he began to explain.
'The police department owns it,' he said. 'Was once Internal Affairs offices but now Guns and Gangs uses it as storage. All the stuff for undercover ops and major projects.'
'Who needs Ikea,' Andy said, having made her way to some of the items covered with sheets. She lifted a dusty corner of one and revealed a revoltingly mustard-coloured couch, complete with a large hole in one of the cushions. Andy dared not look into it. 'On second thoughts…'
Sam nodded toward it. 'That was for a illegal weapons bust a few years back. One of the guys went under as a first-time buyer. His place had to be a dump, we played it that he'd been saving every penny to buy a shotgun.'
'What for?'
'Kill his ex.'
'Lovely.'
'Yeah well, she didn't exist,' Sam said. 'Cover remember?'
'Right,' Andy said, feeling silly. Truth was, she was distracted by all the stuff crowding the space and the feeling like she had been let in on a secret.
She moved around the divider wall that separated the furniture from the stacks of cardboard boxes on cheap metal shelves. Her eyes glanced at the printed labels on each box, seeing number codes that made no sense to her, accompanied by dates and handwritten signatures beneath one or two word descriptions.
Crockery, read one box. Artwork, read the next.
She looked up at Sam.
'Sam, is anyone else here?' she said, looking around another one of the divider walls.
'Just you and me, McNally,' he said. 'Why? Truth to those suspicions that I'm planning your murder?' he teased.
She rolled her eyes. 'Are we allowed to be here?'
'Yes.'
'Really?'
'Relax, I got the key remember.' Sam walked past Andy, heading toward the far side of the vast space.
'Because you have to pick up something?' she asked, trailing after him - eyes glancing over every item they passed.
Grandfather clock. Chest of drawers. Rocking horse?
There was a story there.
Andy wasn't sure she wanted to know.
'Yeah,' Sam called out, confirming that he was indeed needing to pick something up. His voice echoed off the walls.
'And what is that exactly?'
'This.' Sam said, stopping suddenly. Andy came to a stop beside him.
Long pieces of silver metal leant against the wall. One was different than the rest, wider and made up of parallel cyclindrical bars. Wooden slats stuck out the end of a tall cardboard box beside the metal.
'A bedframe…?' Andy questioned, tilting her head to the side and realising that the larger piece of metal was actually a headboard. Realisation dawned. 'Oh… Sam…'
'Want this too?' he asked, pulling a sheet off a mattress that leant against the wall, blocking the light that from one of the high windows.
Realisation came quicker this time, having already solved half the puzzle.
She remembered their second night together and the pale blue of a mattress as they hastily undressed it.
And then themselves.
They'd made love in front of the fire.
The next morning – when they had moved back to the bed - she'd commented on the bed's comfort and asked, mostly jokingly, if he could bring the bed home with him.
In the end, nothing else had mattered other than the fact that he came home with himself.
In one piece.
But now her eyes darted between the bed and it's mattress. A perfect pair.
She couldn't believe he'd remembered.
Never let it be said that Sam Swarek isn't a sweet romantic, underneath it all.
She looked at Sam and saw that he was waiting for a response. He seemed almost nervous, his feet shifted place on the concrete floor.
Did Sam Swarek get nervous?
Her eyes were misty, but no words seemed to come.
'So I take it you remember?' he asked, half-laugh at the end. A nervous one.
So apparently he did.
Suddenly, Andy stepped closer and threw her arms around him. She hugged him tight and close, their jeans brushing against eachother.
He took that as a 'yes'.
x x x
Andy sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of her bedroom. Sam sat on the other side of the room, the half-constructed bed frame between them. After Sam had explained that he had called in a favour and assured her that the bed was hers, they had loaded the frame into the back of Sam's truck and secured the mattress on top with some rope that Sam took from a box in the warehouse. Andy had asked if they were allowed to take some, and Sam had grinned at her worry. Guns and Gangs' was not lacking in supplies, he'd told her. No one would care if he took some rope.
They'd gone back to her place, Andy hiding even lower in her seat as they neared Fifteen's area, almost entirely hidden by the time they were in it - despite the fact that Sam skirted the edges, avoiding it as much as possible. They had unloaded the bed, Andy hurrying him, for fear someone would see them - despite the fact that it was now almost dark. Sam had noted that her street was lacking in streetlights. It bothered him, but he didn't say anything. She'd tell him he was being paranoid or overprotective. Maybe even teasingly call him 'Dad'.
No, thank you.
Now, they were mid-way through the process of putting the bed together. Andy fiddled with one of the two remaining screws that was needed to complete the assembly.
'Pass me one of those?'
'Hm?' Andy looked up, distracted. Sam nodded toward one of the screws in her hand, just as she registered what he was talking about. 'Oh, yeah.' She tossed him a screw and he caught it between two hands.
Sam's gaze lingered on Andy for a moment, before he set about twisting the screw into place. He then moved to the foot of the bed, closer to Andy, pushing the box of slats out of his way and inspecting his work.
'I'm a terrible person,' Andy said suddenly.
Sam humoured her. 'Okay Terrible Person, pass me another screw?'
She picked one up but did not pass it to him. She fiddled with it in her fingers. Sam looked up, watching her fidgeting. Her eyes were troubled, her gaze darting around the room like that of a restless child.
'I never went back and visited him,' Andy said. Sam knew she was referring to her grandfather. 'He was stuck in some home and I couldn't even get over my own issues enough to be able to suck it up and go see him.'
She spoke with her hands and Sam watched the screw fly around between them in the secure grip of her fingers.
'I mean, one attempt and that's it? And then today, God, I upset my Dad. He probably hates me now and-'
'Andy. Stop.' He cut her off.
His hands covered hers, lowering them and stopping their flailing. Andy misunderstood the contact.
'Oh, right,' she said, looking down at the screw in her hand. 'I was meant to be giving you this.' She held it up for him and he took it swiftly.
'Screw that,' he said. Andy's brow raised at the lame, accidental joke. Sam dropped his chin and gave a fleeting, teethy grin, clearly judging the joke himself. He lifted his head and tossed the screw to the side and slid closer to her.
'McNally, listen to me.' He placed his hands on either side of her face. 'You are not a terrible person.'
'Yeah well, you're kinda biased.'
He ignored her. 'You were a kid. Dealing with an alcoholic father and a mother who up and left.' He didn't sugar-coat it. 'You had enough to deal with. And a certain point, McNally, you just gotta do what's best for you. You were looking after yourself, nothing wrong with that.'
'But what about all the years since then…?' She sought reassurance. Enough, at least, to let this go. For now. He expected she'd beat herself up about it - on and off - for some time. It was just who she was.
It didn't mean he wasn't going to try and prevent that.
He continued speaking. 'The first time you went, they told you your mother was there. Makes sense that you couldn't go again.'
'I couldn't face her.'
Sam nodded, a slight shoulder shrug as if it were no big deal. 'Self-preservation.'
'But she might not have even been there.'
'But there was the possibility. And the memory of last time,' he said. 'Some wounds run deep, McNally.'
She nodded and took a deep breath. Sam brushed her hair from her eyes and she dropped her forehead to his.
'Now who's the wise one?' she teased.
'Oh that's always been me,' Sam boasted, eliminating the chance of rebuttal by stealing a gentle kiss.
The kiss ended and their foreheads parted. It was romantic, sure, but not exactly comfortable. Andy had told him once that he was far too hard-headed. Maybe she had meant it literally.
Her eyes were still a little troubled and Sam knew why.
'As for your Dad, he kinda deserved it.'
Andy laughed a little. She couldn't help it. She nodded.
'I'll call him later,' she said. She wanted to apologise, regardless.
Sam sighed a little, but smiled. 'Wouldn't be you if you didn't, McNally.'
She just rolled her eyes.
'Now you gonna let me get back to work or what?' Sam asked suddenly, an abrupt change in mood - faux gruffness and all.
'Hey, I'm helping too!'
'Sitting there looking pretty doesn't count.'
She squinted at him. 'I am gonna take that as a compliment,' she said. 'And anyway, I was passing you stuff!'
'Okay, okay.' Sam grinned, sharp profile and a dimple in view as he moved back to the foot of the bed.
'And you said you were good with tools. I'm letting you prove it.'
'Ohh,' he drawled, examing the two remaining empty screw holes. 'Thanks.'
'You're welcome,' Andy replied cheekily.
Sam leant to one side, eyes scanning the wood floor.
'Probably shouldn't have thrown that screw, though.' She read his mind. And his gaze, too.
'Yeah, yeah,' he said, half-grumble. 'Wanna help me look?'
She rolled her eyes and leant down onto her hands, nose close to the ground like a sniffer dog.
'What do I get if I find it?' she asked, her words flirty in theory, but childlike in practice.
'A bed that doesn't collapse soon as you get into it tonight.'
Good enough.
x x x
Half an hour later, Andy lay on the soft mattress and tried to let her mind relax.
No worrying, no thinking.
About anything.
Other than how hungry she was.
Sam had gone out to the living room to order a pizza for dinner. Andy had reminded him that he said he could cook and that one day she would be expecting to taste the proof of that admission. She had teasingly said that she would let him off playing chef - for now - seeing as he had already just played handyman.
Good with tools, check.
Cooking, yet to be determined. Cleaning, too.
Suddenly, he heard a soft thump in the living room, followed by the exasperated utterance of a four letter-word. And not one you'd want a child to repeat.
'You okay?' she called out, sitting up a little and leaning on her arms, extended behind her. Her legs were stretched out in front of her.
Sam ambled into the room rubbing his knee.
'Your old bed is feeling rejected,' Sam said as he approached.
Andy raised a brow. 'Did it attack you?' She grinned.
'Dont worry, my knee came out on top.'
She rolled her eyes.
Sometimes, Sam thought, she seemed so very young.
Not that he minded.
It was another thing that made her, well, her.
When they had unloaded the new bed, Andy had insisted they dismantle her old bed frame, before setting up the new one. Probably some 'bad and good candy thing,' Sam had thought. Though he hadn't been able to argue against the idea. It made sense. It was practical.
You would have been able to fit both beds in the generously sized bedroom, but barely. And by no means comfortably or particularly easily. And seeing as Andy seemingly had no hesitations about getting rid of the old, Sam was happy to go with her plan.
They had leant her old mattress against a bedroom wall and carried the pieces of the frame out into the living room, leaning them against the back of her couch.
'You don't need me to kiss it better?' she teased, glancing down at Sam's jean-glad leg.
'I didn't say that, McNally,' he said, a little devilishly.
Andy giggled. 'Maybe later.'
Sam leant down and gave her lips a short, but tender kiss.
'That'll do for now,' he said, a twinkle in his eyes.
Andy smiled and giggled again, before lifting her arms and letting her body fall back into the mattress. It was sheet-less - they hadn't bothered yet - but she'd tossed her pillows at the head, so as to test it properly. To get the full experience, she had said, as Sam had wandered out to the living room to order the pizza. She had quickly followed that up with a grin and calling out a feeble warning of 'don't make it dirty!' when she realised how easily that could've been done. 'Wouldn't dream of it, McNally,' he had said.
Her stomach grumbled a teeny bit as she lay back down. She felt more than heard it.
'Pizza's on the way,' Sam said.
She told herself that the timing of that statement was purely coincidental.
He hadn't heard that grumble, right?
On second thoughts, she didn't care if he had. That in itself was more comforting than alarming.
She nodded in response. 'Okay,' she said.
'The bed good?' Sam asked, leaning down on the mattress, causing her to tip a little toward him.
'Yeah,' she said as Sam pulled his legs up onto the mattress and sank down beside her.
'Good,' he said simply, their faces to the ceiling.
After a second, Andy rolled onto her side, facing Sam.
'It feels just the same.'
