Haunted

by ADI2DE

AU – Andy is 16 when her life goes spiralling out of control and she's left running from the cops. But what happens when years later she becomes a cop and crosses paths with the dark-haired, brown-eyed man that had been chasing her years earlier? Will Andy's past come back to haunt her?

11. Focus

Welcome back! As always, thank you guys so much for all of your lovely reviews, and for the follows and favourites. I hope you'll continue to let me know what you think. I also apologize for the LONG delay in getting this chapter up.

Now, a few of you had questions about the guy who was following Andy… great question(s), and thanks for asking! Honestly though, that guy was never in my original version of the story. While fixing up the last chapter and sprinkling in some details, he kind of just walked right into the story… he literally came out of nowhere. So, I guess we're all about to find out who he is and what he's after!

For those of you wondering what happened after Andy gave Sam the diary, as well as how Andy managed to grow as a cop despite her fear(s), I have to admit, I'm kind of (pleasantly) surprised. I didn't think anyone would care about that, so I left it out. But, I can try to incorporate parts of it into the next few chapters.

Alright, now one more thing before getting to the recap. Just like with the last chapter, there are parts of this one that you aren't going to like, BUT the end of this update leaves the door wide open for a LOT of different scenarios to play out. Of course, I'm not going to tell you what happens, but you're welcome to guess. For now, let's just say that nobody is safe…

Recap: Sam and Oliver try to question Andy about a murder she is said to have witnessed, but she denies having seen anything. When Sam questions her at her school, he realizes she's being watched and backs off so that he doesn't put an even bigger target on her back. In an effort to instill fear in her and silence her, Andy is raped by her boyfriend (J.J) and his brother (Jimmy). When Sam and Oliver show up on her doorstep again, she takes off and just barely manages to get away on the subway. She then transfers to a bus and makes it all the way to Burlington, where she's forced to cover her tracks as she decides where to go from there. Andy ends up in St. Catharines, changes her appearance, gets a job, and manages to complete high school and university. She even goes to the Academy. While there, her instructor (James) introduces her to Sarah Dean, who is able to share her own story of being attacked as a teen. Andy ends up moving in with Sarah and quickly realizes that Sarah is Sam's sister. Just days after Andy graduates from the Academy, Sam shows up (unexpectedly) at Sarah's house, which ends up leading to a confrontation with Andy. After discovering she's been training to be a cop, Sam reluctantly agrees to back off and keep quiet about having ever seen her in St. Catharines. James ends up asking Andy to go to 27 Division with him, but she's left conflicted and scared, knowing that no matter what she does, everything is going to change. Sam tells Andy about her dad's drinking problem and how he lost his job. Sarah's ex shows up at the house and Andy ends up punching him. In a later conversation, Andy admits to having seen the murder and Sam gives her a little dose of reality. Sam's view of Andy really starts to change when he sees how she is with both Sarah and Cooper. James shows up at Sarah's house to take Andy to Toronto, a fact that had remained unknown to both Sarah and Sam until the man showed up on the doorstep. Andy hands over her SIM card and notebook retelling the murder, etc. to Sam before leaving with James. While in Toronto, Sam runs into Andy. He's undercover at the time and she's on-duty, and in a bizarre effort to save his cover from being blown, she kisses him, feigns a panic attack, and lets him run from the scene. They have another run-in later that day when Andy's trying to shake whoever she senses is following her. Sam and Andy head to a café.

---

Four months later… (early June) – The Present

Andy's eyes fluttered open and a smile slowly crept onto her face. This is it. Today's the day, she silently told herself as she squinted up at the ceiling. You've let it control you for too long, so now it's your turn. You've fought a good fight, and you've won the battle, but now you've gotta prove that you've won the war. The thought caused a strong case of the jitters to overcome her. Breathe. You want this. You're happy. It's the right time. She bit down on her lower lip and worried it between her teeth as uncertainty tugged at the back of her mind. It is the right time, isn't it? I mean, life is finally good. It isn't perfect, but it's the best it's been since I was a kid. So, it's gotta be the right time. Because… because I don't wanna wait. I don't wanna live like this anymore. I just want things to be easy, like they were when I was growing up, but… different. I mean, things have to be different. I'm not a kid anymore and a lot has happened since then. Things that I wish hadn't happened. She let out a loud sigh. But they did happen. And, as much as I hate it, I can't change that. But, I can control what happens now. And, I can be happy again. I know I can… Or, I think so anyway. She continued to gnaw on her lower lip, the amount of pressure increasing as another bout of uncertainty hit her, this time stronger. Other people have beaten it. Learned to live again. Be happy. So, I can too… right? Her mind briefly went back to her childhood, to the many days and nights spent camping or watching movies with her mom and dad. To the smiles, the laughter, the fun.

Back then, life had been so simple, so happy… until her mom left. But even afterward, she'd still shared some great memories with her dad: basketball tournaments and sports nights with pizza in front of the TV. Naturally, things had been hard – harder than before – but they'd managed. They'd developed a new rhythm, and they'd come to rely more heavily upon one another. And, for awhile, it had worked. They'd grown closer and things had almost seemed normal. But then her dad started drinking. Something in him just snapped and it seemed like overnight he suddenly found more comfort in the bottle than in his own daughter. Still, things had been… okay. Manageable, in any case, even if there had been more fighting and less quality time spent together. Then life happened again and in a single instant, everything changed... as if the carpet was pulled out from under her and her entire world was turned upside down for a second time.

Andy squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to hold back the tears as memories of her last few nights as a teen in Toronto resurfaced. The murder. The rape. The paralyzing fear. The desperation and panic upon realizing that she had to go – just start over – and leave everything she loved behind… everything that was familiar. And then there was the realization that she was different – that she could no longer do a lot of things that normal teenagers did. It was a lesson that she'd learned pretty quickly, and with it, came the discovery that the journey she was forced to embark upon was so much more than she'd anticipated. It was worse. A hell of a lot worse. It was a constant challenge, a daily struggle… one that left her weary to the bone almost every day.

Forcing her mind back to the present, she sighed. It's in the past. And, today is a new day. It's a new chapter, and I'm ready… maybe. She mentally shook herself. I'm just being stupid. I mean, really, it's just the next step. It's normal. And I want to be normal, right? She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stretched, letting a loud groan escape her as the stiffness in her muscles became more apparent. It was as if they were screaming in protest, willing her to lie back down and become ensnared in the safety of her cocoon – her apartment – once more. Doing her best to ignore the uncomfortable sensation, her thoughts barreled onward. Yeah. Normal. I can do this. I care about him… a lot. I... I might even… Yeah. A lot. I like him a lot. Exhaling deeply, she fell back against her pillows, opting for a few more minutes of relative peace before having to rise and enter into the real world.

When her eyes came to rest on her alarm clock though, a series of curses tumbled from her lips. She'd been lost in thought for far too long. Annnnnnnd now I'm gonna be late. Groaning again, she forced herself to get up, the prospect of being assigned to desk duty for her tardiness causing her to go into overdrive. She rushed through her shower and the rest of her morning routine, then dashed out the door, hair still dripping wet as she jogged to work.

Faster, she thought, as she glanced down at her watch. I can't be late. Not today. Not any day really, but especially not today.

By the time she reached 27 Division, her shoulders were heaving and her skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. "Should've just showered here," she muttered, wiping her brow. As she passed through the doors, a blast of air conditioning hit her, sending a shiver down her spine. "Instead, I had to get lost in my own head. Overanalyze everything." She sighed. "Time to wakeup though… start living in the real world again." Realizing she was still speaking aloud, her eyes darted left, then right. Well, at least nobody seemed to hear me. Maybe today will turn out to be okay after all… I hope.

The shred of hope she'd been holding onto was diminished slightly as she entered the locker room and the rumblings of her co-workers met her ears.

Sure, it was brutally hot out. Stifling, even. In fact, humidity levels were through the roof, making it one of the warmest days – if not the warmest day – in years. And, that was bound to lead to a little less enthusiasm among her fellow officers, and a lot more craziness among the perps. But, Andy had been hoping that the day would go by relatively smoothly so that she could focus some more on how to approach things with James.

After changing her shirt, she checked her watch again. Five minutes. I can do this.

And she did… barely. But, as she looked around the parade room with one minute to spare, she noticed that a lot of officers were still absent, including James. She knew he'd be there soon though; otherwise he would've let her know. He always did – that was one of the few things she knew with certainty. It was what she could count on. Even if he wasn't around, he always seemed to be thinking about her. It was comforting, just like his presence. With that thought in mind, she slid into a seat at the back of the room and kept an eye on the chair beside her. Not that anyone would try to take it. Despite being surrounded by cops – people who had supposedly gone through sensitivity training – they, more often than not, treated her like an outcast… the thing that they couldn't understand. The thing that they cast aside because dealing with it was too much trouble. A disease. Problem. Annoyance. And, while Andy didn't expect them to fully understand her limitations or her abilities, the fact that, to this day, she still heard whispers behind her back or caught officers exchanging skeptical glances, hurt. It was another reason why she adored James so much. Simply put, he was different from the others. He was…

James. She drew in a deep breath, eyes flicking back to the door as her heart rate picked up. He's gonna be here any second… Oh god, when do I tell him? Or, do I not tell him? Do I just do it? Blurt it out? Casually bring it up? Wait for the right moment? Seeing him enter the parade room, she swallowed hard. I feel like a little kid again. A prepubescent teen with a schoolgirl crush. A blush spread across her cheeks. Seriously? I'm in my twenties. This isn't my first relationship, so why am I acting like it is? The answer came almost immediately. Because it's my first relationship since… the incident. And I'm not normal. I'm out of practice. Scared. I might as well be stepping into my first relationship. It practically feels like it.

"Hey," James said, stepping up to the row she was sitting in.

"Saved you a seat," Andy replied with a soft smile, despite feeling nearly crippled by her anxiety. Ugh, I hope that seemed natural. That anxiety skyrocketed as another thought occurred to her. Please don't let me smell bad. She'd freshened up the best she could with the limited amount of time she'd had, but sitting in a room packed with cops – one of whom included her boyfriend – suddenly had her feeling more self-conscious… especially on a day like today.

He smiled back as he took the vacant seat to her right.

He's not looking at me like I have three heads and his nose isn't wrinkled in disgust, so... so far, so good? Unless he's just being nice. I mean, he is a nice guy. She mentally shook herself as his gaze shifted to the front of the room. I cleaned up pretty well, sprayed myself for good measure, and… wait a minute, he's looking at me again. Did his eyes just narrow a little? She felt a flutter of fear. He's not saying anything – he's just staring. A thin layer of sweat coated her palms. Why won't he say something? I don't care what. No, wait, I do.

She drew in a deep breath as she studied his face a little closer, but what she saw there wasn't reassuring. He knows. Oooooh man. He knows why I'm so antsy. A nervous laugh caught in her throat. Antsy… what a weird word. Really, it sounds… Ugh. Focus. She shook her head, then forced her body to still as she watched one of his eyebrows shoot upward in a silent question. There's no way he doesn't know. I mean, I'm not exactly acting normal and I'm sure it shows in my face. Ha! Understatement of the year. I probably look like I'm suffering from a severe case of diarrhea, but was told that I have to hold it… that my life depends upon it. Andy's face crinkled at the thought. Ewwww. What the hell is wrong with me? That's gross. She shuddered. Where did that even come from anyway? I'm supposed to be figuring out how to tell him... how to take the next step. She internally sighed. Oh, right, it was probably because of that disgusting medical documentary on TV last night. Soooo wrong. Not that I was even watching it. Not really, anyway. I mean, I was pre-occupied… thinking about yesterday's shift, one of the worst days I've had since moving back here. Stupid death notifications. And, about him – I was definitely thinking about him. Helped, even with the nasty show. But, really, I didn't even pick it. It just came on when I turned on the TV and I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to change the channel. I'm still not telling anyone about it though, not even him. He'd never let it go. Seriously though, couldn't they have found a more interesting case to focus on than… what was it? Medical mysteries? And who would want to watch that crap anyway? Okay, intentionally watch it. Because I most definitely did not. No way. Never. Pretty sure I'm not eating lunch today. Or dinner. For like a week. Until I can get this out of my head.

"You okay?" James asked, his voice soft.

She inwardly groaned. He knows something's up. Well done, Andy, she silently chided herself. You maybe hid it for a total of one second… if that. She forced another smile, doing her best to make it look genuine, despite the nerves that were now running rampant through her. Just act cool. Cool as a cucumber. God that sounded lame. Don't say that out loud. Just... Just ask him about his family. Normal stuff. Like it's a regular day, even though it isn't. Totally isn't. Wetting her lips, she said, "Yeah." It came out as a squeak. Seriously? Try again. Inhaling deeply, she focused on steadying her voice. "I'm uh… I'm great. How are your parents?" Much better.

"Good," he replied, still eyeing her. "But they missed you."

She nodded. She wasn't even sure how it had happened, but she'd suddenly found herself accompanying James to his weekly or bi-weekly dinners with his parents. Not that she minded. It took awhile to feel comfortable there, but she'd come to really care for the Bensons and enjoyed the visits, so when she said, "Sorry I didn't come," she truly meant it. Had the shift the day before not been so bad, she likely would've accompanied him to dinner again, but she'd needed some space from everyone and everything, and so she'd gone straight home and stayed in all night. Thinking. Pacing. Pretty much driving herself crazy.

"Next time," he replied. He studied her for another moment. "Feeling better?"

Again, Andy nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Listen up," Staff Sergeant Jeff Winters said as he strode into the room, his white shirt as pristine and wrinkle-free as always. "It's a hot one today, but that doesn't mean that it's going to be a slow day. In fact, it's already proving busy. So, stay hydrated…"

Andy didn't hear the rest of his speech. The gears in her head were turning again, still trying to figure out the best way to approach things with James. Feeling a soft nudge, she met his eyes. Seeing the concern in his blue orbs, she smiled again, then reached for his hand and held it underneath the table as assignments were verbally handed out.

Not Marlo, not Marlo, not Marlo, she silently repeated, holding her breath until her name was called. And when it was, she couldn't withhold a sigh of relief when she heard James' name called with her own.

"Stuck with me again," James teased, smiling over at her as they got up and followed the other officers out of the room.

"Hey, I've got it easy," Andy said, a strange giddiness replacing some of her nerves. "No witch to deal with," she added in a lowered voice, her relatively neutral expression a direct contradiction to the party that was going on inside of her. In fact, she was thoroughly surprised that she was able to contain her excitement at all. The idea of being stuck with Marlo, in what felt like forty-degree Celsius weather, on one of the most important days of her life, was far from ideal. But, today, it wasn't a reality. She was with James. "And uh…" Her face warmed.

"And?"

A faint blush crept into her cheeks. "And my partner today is pretty easy on the eyes. Really sweet too."

"Really? Do I know him?"

A wide smile spread across her face. "Uh huh," she replied shyly, as they reached the coffee station.

With a quick glance around, James said, "Still on for dinner tonight?"

Andy nodded as she poured two cups of coffee. She was fairly certain that most people in the division knew that they were in a relationship, but she still appreciated James' attempts at keeping things relatively private. Which was why what she was about to do would likely shock him in more than one way.

"Good," he said quietly, lowering his head to place a quick kiss on her cheek before reluctantly pulling away. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too," she replied softly, her hand rising until it came to rest lightly on his cheek.

Just as she suspected, his eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by her sudden public display of affection… something she'd never done while in the division. At least, never initiated, anyway.

"I…" Andy began, swallowing the lump in her throat as she searched his face. Just kiss him. Like, really kiss him. Not just a peck. She started to lean forward, heart pounding heavily in her chest. Do it. You want this. You want him. And he's been patient, really patient. So, take the next step. Try to be a little more intimate. Who cares if we're at work? Nobody's around to see. She inched forward again, but stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. Oh come on, don't chicken out. Just do it. But, she couldn't.

Silently cursing, she changed her mind at the last second and maneuvered her head so that her lips landed on his cheek, her hand simultaneously falling from his face. In an effort to hide her embarrassment, she quickly stepped away, grabbed her coffee, and practically darted for the door, making a beeline to the squad cars. Maybe he didn't notice, she thought, hoping it was true.

"What was that?" James asked when he finally caught up.

"Huh?" Andy said, forcing an innocent smile.

He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Never mind."

Stupid. Why can't I kiss him like that? I want to. He deserves it. He deserves more, so why can't I give it to him? It's a stupid kiss. It's not hard. Sighing, she got into the squad car. It's just because we're at work. That's all. I'll try again later, when we're alone. I'll try and I'll succeed… because I want this.

A little over twenty minutes went by in silence – nearly half an hour just spent driving their usual route without a word spoken. But, it became too much. James hesitated, then opened his mouth. "Something's going on…"

"Huh?" Andy automatically said, though her attention remained elsewhere. Outside. On the rest of the world. The people on the streets. Life.

"With you," James continued. "You're acting strange today… What's wrong?"

Silence.

He reached out and gently touched her shoulder, letting it linger long enough to get her attention before returning it to the steering wheel. "Andy? What's going on?"

She finally tore her eyes away from the window and reached for his hand, giving it a small but reassuring squeeze. "Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have met you?"

James shot her a smile, but she could practically see the questions burning on his lips. "That's what you've been thinking about?"

She let out a small laugh, instantly feeling some of the tension fade. "Yeah… Well, no… I mean, kind of."

"Are you trying to break up with me, Andy?" James teased, his tone telling her that he knew full well that she wasn't.

"Shut up," she shot back, while simultaneously rolling her eyes. "I was trying to be serious, James."

He raised one hand in surrender and mumbled an apology.

After a spell of silence, Andy finally continued. "I mean it though. Despite everything that's happened, I am lucky. I mean, I never thought I'd meet someone as patient and understanding as you… someone who believes in me when nobody else really does. And, makes me feel alive again." Her lips curled upward, and after pausing for a beat, she added, "I never thought I'd be able to have a life again – not like this – but, you've given me that, and you have no idea how much that means to me…" She paused again. "…how much you mean to me."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she beat him.

"Can you, umm… can you pull over for a second? Like, just down that side road…?"

Though curious, he did as she asked without questioning it, knowing that his compliance was bound to get an answer faster than any words he could utter.

"Thank you." The words were barely audible.

"Did something happen last night?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

Turning her body so that she was facing him a little more, she shrugged. "I… I guess I realized something." She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I'm… I'm happy."

He frowned. "Me too."

She could see it too, in his eyes and his smile… in the way he was now holding her hand. "James?" Andy wet her lips. "I—"

The radio crackled, cutting her off. "Requesting all available units to the DVP, just north of the Danforth. We have a seven-car collision. EMS is being rushed to the scene."

James let out a loud breath. "It must be pretty bad if they're sending all of us." He gave her an apologetic look. "We'll be stuck there for hours."

With disappointment flooding her, Andy slumped back against her seat.

"We'll finish this after, okay?" James said, his smile reassuring as he pulled back onto the road and turned the car toward the Don Valley Parkway.

"Yeah, sure."

As they fell back into a companionable silence – with the exception of the wailing sirens – Andy reached forward to turn up the AC, feeling the perspiration already forming on her face and neck, and knowing that it would be ten times worse once they were outside standing on the paved road.

The radio crackled again. "2720, change your route to 45 Overlea Boulevard. A call came in reporting a potential robbery and hostage situation at the Scotiabank."

Andy groaned as her fingers curled around the radio. "This is 2720, we're on it." She looked over at James. "I guess no matter what, it's not gonna be a quiet day."

He laughed. "Yeah, well, it makes me look forward to dinner even more."

She merely smiled in response, though she completely agreed with him. A nice, quiet dinner, tucked away along a small stretch of beach sounded fantastic, even with the overwhelming heat.

Crackle. "2720, a car from 15 Division has been dispatched and is on-route to 45 Overlea. Standby."

"Copy," Andy replied, biting down on her lower lip and nervously worrying it between her teeth. 15 Division? Really? They couldn't have gone with something closer?

Noting the sudden tension in her shoulders, James asked, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I just… I know a few people there. Haven't seen them in awhile, that's all."

"Friends from the Academy?"

Andy hesitated, then nodded.

"Epstein, Diaz, Nash?" he rhymed off some names.

"Yeah."

James cast a glance in her direction. "Why haven't you—?"

"Can we just focus on the job right now?" Andy interrupted. Her own friends hadn't been able to understand her decision to distance herself, so she was fairly certain that James wouldn't be able to either. And, quite honestly, sometimes she thought her reason sounded stupid too, but then something would happen to remind her of why she'd made the choice in the first place.

He sighed. "I'm just surprised... You guys seemed really close."

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. They had been close, but they had also led very different lives from her, and in the end, she thought it best if she parted ways with them. It had been hard, but ultimately, she knew that she wasn't like them. No matter how much she wanted to be, she wasn't. And, although they'd always made her feel welcome, she'd never be one of them. With Sarah, it was different. Same with James. But with the others, she'd never truly fit in, no matter how desperately she wanted to.

Risking a glance in his direction, Andy could tell that James was struggling to bite back whatever it was that he was thinking and was instead trying to focus on getting them to the scene quickly and safely. Satisfied that he wasn't going to push the matter, she turned back to the window and watched as they raced through the streets of Toronto, her adrenaline already pumping in anticipation of the call.

---

Three months earlier… (March)

Andy exhaled deeply, shivering as a gust of wind sent cold air through the small gap at the top of her coat. "You can do this," she muttered, fingers curling around the brass door handle. "You have to do this," she added, mentally bracing herself as she pushed the heavy wooden door open. The sudden burst of heat that hit her had her quickly stepping inside, desperate to warm her hands and feet after spending the last half hour in the blistering cold. But, the second she took the first step forward, and her eyes were able to scan the interior, a small whimper escaped her.

It was dark and dingy looking, and she could only imagine the type of clientele it attracted on a regular basis. As it was, the men closest to the door looked rough around the edges with their largely unkempt hair, faces full of scruff, and mouths that seemed twisted in what she assumed were permanent frowns. Worse still was the odour – the overwhelming smell of alcohol, sweat, and vomit that assaulted her nostrils, threatening to make her stomach churn. Still, as nauseating as it was, this hole-in-the-wall bar was the closest place to her apartment and considering she didn't get out much, she really wasn't in the mood to venture far. Maybe I should try the next street over, she thought, a wave of uneasiness already washing over her as she caught a nearby customer eyeing her. She shuddered. I'm not a piece of meat, scumbag, so quit drooling.

"Lemme buy you a drink," the man said, his tone gravelly as his eyes raked over her body.

She ground her teeth together. Just ignore him. You're on a mission. And, that idiot isn't about to ruin it. He'll get bored. Buzz off. It'll be fine.

"You shy?" the man continued, unfazed by her lack of response.

Just breathe. She struggled against the wave of nausea that was threatening to crash over her. You've seen guys like this before. The slime. Epitome of a sleazeball. It isn't new. Even your ex was… No, don't go there. Don't think about that. Tears pricked her eyes. Fear crept up on her. You were getting better. You were. So, just push yourself… a little harder. A little more. Because you can do this. If you want some kind of life, you have to do this.

"Close the door," another customer yelled.

Startled, Andy stepped forward, letting the door slam behind her. The force caused it to rattle in its frame, an action that seemed to transfer to her body as her heart thudded in her chest and a tremble ran through her, making her feel like her insides shook. And that's when things really started to go downhill. The room felt smaller. The people closer. But, just as she turned to go, the door opened again, causing the wind to tug at her hair and a chill to run down her spine. Too late. Desperate to avoid contact with whoever was now standing in the doorway, she made a beeline for the bar, her heart thundering in her chest all the while.

"What can I get you?"

Her eyes snapped up to the bartender, her body instantly tensing at the smile he sent her way. "What?" she blurted out, drawing more of her attention away from the bar's other occupants in an effort to figure out what the man had said to her.

"What do you wanna drink?"

"Oh, uh… hot chocolate," she said as she slid up onto the stool, bracing herself for the long night ahead.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Hot chocolate?"

"Uh, yeah. Umm, or coffee?" Seeing his eyebrow lift a little higher, she added, "Coke? Pepsi? Water?" Geez, this guy is difficult. It's not like I asked for some kind of foreign drink… a specialty item.

"One coffee coming up," he replied, giving her an odd look before turning to grab a mug.

As Andy waited, she nervously bit down on her lip, worrying it between her teeth as she so often did.

"You waiting for someone?" he asked as he slid the cup of coffee toward her.

"Me? Ummm… no. I mean, yes… Yeah, I am." She grimaced. Yeah, great, Andy. That sounded convincing, she silently scolded herself as she reached for the mug, welcoming the heat that permeated through the ceramic and warmed her frigid hands.

"You sure you're in the right place, sweetheart?" the bartender asked, his elbows on the counter as he leaned toward her. "I mean, I sure as hell don't mind keeping you company…"

She stiffened. "I…"

"Time to go," a third party interjected.

Andy jumped upon hearing the voice in her ear, the momentary spasm of fear passing through her causing delayed recognition… until she turned her head and caught sight of the man to her right. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Her eyes shot wide open. "Ssssa—"

"Now," the man said sharply, his voice drowning hers out.

She stared at him for a long moment, her entire body tense upon hearing that tone. One that she'd never heard from him before, and one that she didn't particularly want to hear again. It sent a chill down her spine. Caused her heartbeat to quicken, and not in a good way.

"This one's yours?" the bartender asked.

Andy's gaze flicked from one man to the other, before resting on Sam. 'This one's yours?' Excuse me?

"That's right," Sam replied, fingers balled into fists as he met the man's eyes and gave him a leveling stare.

Ummm, what? Andy thought in disbelief. I am most definitely not yours, Sam Swarek.

"Seems a little too proper for ya."

Is this conversation really happening? Andy thought, anger starting to boil in the pit of her stomach. "I'm—"

"Turns out she likes them rough," Sam interrupted, forcing a smirk, though his own words made him feel sick.

Moisture formed in her eyes, her heart rate went up a couple of notches, and her breathing started to take on a more irregular pattern. This isn't happening. This… this is Sarah's brother. He's not like that, is he? I thought he was different. Back in St. Catharines, he was… different. Even here… he wasn't like them.

The bartender merely nodded, then turned to help another customer.

"Go home," Sam said under his breath as he raised a tentative hand and slowly turned her bar stool until she was facing him.

After forcing the tears back, Andy's eyes slowly trailed up until they met his, her face a mask as she stared back at him. "No," she said firmly, trying to turn the stool back, but his grip on it remained firm. She tried again.

No success.

"What do you want?" she snapped. At first, she'd been a little relieved to see a familiar face and to have the bartender's attention diverted. But, not anymore. She was in the bar for a reason and Sam was getting in her way.

Although his grip remained firm on the stool, he stayed silent until she looked back up at him, willing her to understand what he couldn't say out loud. She was angry though, and there was a good chance her judgment was clouded because of it. "I think you've had enough fun for tonight."

She didn't budge. Just took a sip of her coffee in defiance. But, the second she swallowed, she started coughing. Nearly choking on the consistency. The staleness. Overwhelming nastiness.

Sam inwardly groaned. With a quick glance to make sure the bartender was gone and that nobody else was overly attentive, he said in a much softer tone, "Look, it's gonna get colder outside, and I've gotta work, so you should go home now."

Andy hesitated. He's gotta work? It's in between shifts though. That's when it hit her. "Oh," she said after a long moment, confusion flitting and then realization across her face as she took in his attire and the scruff on his face. He's still undercover. But then… Her eyes started to scan the tables.

"Don't," he said quietly, drawing her attention back to him. "Find somewhere else to go for the night. Not here. And, not alone." As he spoke, he slowly raised his right hand toward her head, not really surprised when her left hand shot up to stop it. Except, it didn't swat his hand away like he thought it would. Instead, her fingers curled around his wrist, sending waves of heat through his arm, despite how cold her skin felt.

Andy sucked in a sharp breath at the contact.

He stared at her hand for a moment before allowing his eyes to wander, studying the rest of her closely. Her chest was rising and falling a little heavier than it had been just moments before, but otherwise she seemed to be doing okay. So, he waited another moment, then met her gaze and continued to reach forward, taking her hand with his as he gently and slowly pulled the hood of her sweater up until it covered her head. His mark may have already seen her, but if he hadn't, Sam wasn't going to give him any more opportunities to get a clear shot of her face.

Even after the hood was up, Andy's grip on his wrist remained firm.

"I'll walk you out," he said with a small frown, unable to read the strange expression on her face.

Once again, she didn't budge.

Come on, McNally, snap out of it. When she still showed no signs of moving, he shifted a little, eyeing her cup of coffee before reaching for it with his free hand and taking a sip, his mouth twisting in disgust as the murky brown liquid hit his tongue. But, despite her having just ordered it, it was cool enough and that was all he needed to know. As his arm moved to put it back on the bar, he intentionally let the mug slip from his grasp, causing the coffee to slosh over the sides before the entire thing was in her lap, mug included. It wasn't a move that he was proud of, but it seemed to do the trick.

Andy gasped as the liquid soaked through her jeans, her eyes darting downward to see the large brown stain before snapping back up to him. A soft curse escaped her. And then she was moving. Practically jumping off the stool and darting toward the door.

Biting back a sigh, Sam glanced in the corner to where his "boss" was sitting. He was supposed to be working his mark, trying to get a little more info on a shipment that was coming in, so that he could report back to his handler in the morning. His gaze shifted toward the door. It was dark out and a little cold, and she was alone. Without a second thought, he retreated to where his mark was sitting and grabbed his jacket, making up a lame excuse before stepping out onto the street. His head swiveled left, then right, until he spotted her quite a ways down the street already. You're an idiot, he scolded himself. Get caught and you'll either wind up dead or manning the desk for the rest of your career. Shaking the thought, he took off down the street, his pace quick as he tried to make up some ground.

It took a lot of control not to turn around and look. She could sense someone watching her, maybe even following her, but it wasn't like the last time. Well, not like when Jimmy's guy was following her. This time, it felt like it did back at Sarah's place… when her friend's brother watched her. When Sam watched her. But, it was more than that. She'd felt it numerous times recently. And while it wasn't exactly an uncomfortable feeling, she was very aware of it.

Making a snap decision, Andy abruptly headed for the nearest bench and sat down on the hard surface, counting her breaths until someone dropped down on the other end.

"How'd you know?" Sam asked, eyes darting back down the road to make sure he wasn't followed.

"Know what?"

"That it was me… following you."

Andy shrugged. "It's not the first time, is it?"

Sam hesitated – shooting her a sideways glance – wondering why she'd never stopped and said something the previous times. Because there had been other times. More than he'd ever admit. But, ever since he'd accidentally run into her in the park, he'd made a note of spending a little more time outside in his spare time, keeping an eye out for her and anyone else whom might be following her. Although she clearly knew it had been him, he didn't admit it now. Instead, he simply said, "You have good instincts… about being followed anyway."

She remained silent, staring out onto the street, eyes constantly moving, searching for any sign of movement.

"Which is why I can't understand your choice of bar," he added.

"It's close."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "It also isn't safe."

"Yeah, and where is?" she asked, finally rounding on him.

"There are plenty of cop bars around the city if you really want a drink."

"I don't."

He stared at her in disbelief. "So, what, you were just admiring the dinge? The friendly clientele? Or what, you craved the caffeine so badly that—"

"No."

Sam ground his teeth together. "Are you looking for trouble, McNally? Because you didn't seem to take my advice about not walking home alone—"

"I've gotten rides," she argued.

"Sometimes," he corrected, giving her a pointed look. "And now you're going into places like that, alone. So, what are you playing at?"

She merely shook her head.

"What, you don't get enough excitement on the job?" he pressed, feeling a surge of anger. "You need to go out of your way to get an extra thrill?"

"I was trying to fix myself," she snapped, then immediately clamped her mouth shut. She hadn't meant to let it slip, but she was caught off guard by how adamant he was and how upset he seemed to be.

Both eyebrows shot upward this time. Trying to fix herself? He frowned. Sure, she's had it rough, but did something happen? She's seemed okay. Not that I really know what okay is for her, but she seems to be dealing with things. So then…? "There's nothing to fix."

She let out a choked laugh, but said nothing.

"McNally...?"

A loud and rather frustrated sigh escaped her. "I froze… Panicked. Again."

He nodded, finally understanding. Something had happened at work. "It happens to everyone at some point." And he meant it. Everyone seemed to have a moment of weakness during his or her career, especially during the rookie days and the first few years after that. But, even senior officers weren't immune to making mistakes.

Andy shook her head. "It… it keeps happening."

"And you think a bar will help?" Sam asked, confused.

"I don't know." She drew in a deep breath. "When I was a rookie, James used to take me out to different places. Get me used to being in crowds. And, it helped. Or I thought it did. But lately I just keep relapsing. And nothing really bad has happened yet, but..."

"So why isn't he with you now?"

She shifted uncomfortably on the bench, debating whether or not to just get up and go. Abandon the conversation. Call it a night and try to forget about her failure. Not that she'd really be able to, but she'd try.

"He doesn't know, does he?"

Guilt flashed across her face. Am I really that much of an open book?

"Does he?" Sam repeated, though he already had a pretty good idea of what the answer was.

"No."

"Andy..."

"I thought I could do it on my own. That maybe if I did, then I wouldn't relapse anymore. That I'd push myself so much that it wouldn't happen. But I can't. I can't do this. Being back, it's just really hard. Harder than I thought it would be. And even though it's been awhile, little changes set me off. Partners. Certain cases. I'm just… I'm not cut out for this job… for this city. I tried. I did. But, I can't do it."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he bit back a sigh. He'd already broken enough rules recently, including his almost daily drop by at her station. He never got too close; just close enough to trail her home, making sure she got there safely. The only exception was when her boyfriend drove her or Oliver followed her home – she never seemed to accept a ride from his friend. As if that wasn't bad enough, here he was talking to her. Worse still, he was about to break another rule. "Let me take you home."

Her head snapped in his direction. "What?" she said a little louder than intended, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

His mouth fell open when he realized what she thought he meant. "Uh… it's… it's not how it sounds," he said, grimacing. "I meant… so you could..." He gestured to her legs. When her eyebrows rose a little higher, he groaned. "To change." He ran a hand over his face, mortified. "The coffee," he muttered.

"I can find my own way home," she said quietly. If she wasn't so frustrated, she probably would have found him stumbling over his own words funny. But, not today.

"I know, but after you change..." He hesitated. If I do this, there's no going back. If I do this, I could get caught. My career could be over. No. Pretty sure I already made that decision when I talked to her in the bar. And then followed her here. "I was going to..." He inwardly groaned. Since when had being tongue-tied been an issue for him? And being flustered too? He mentally shook himself. "Look, I know a place that might be better."

"I'm not going to a cop bar."

"It's not."

She eyed him carefully. "What about your op?"

"I don't know anyone who goes there."

She continued to study him, all the while blindly fidgeting with a loose thread on her jacket. After a long stretch of silence, she finally said, "Okay." Wait, did I really just agree?

A look of surprise shot across his face as confusion momentarily flitted across hers, both surprised by her rather easy acceptance. "Okay?" he asked, almost certain he'd misheard. After all, this was coming from the woman who had seemed so hesitant – reluctant even – to go to the park with Cooper and him. And now she was willing to go to a public place with him?

Andy hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah." She let out an audible sigh. "I mean, I'm kind of desperate."

When after a few moments, her hesitation turned to a visible determination – squared shoulders, chin up, eyes narrowed – he finally nodded. "Okay," he said quietly, waiting for her to make the first move before rising.

It was a quiet walk back to her place, and although he tried not to stare too much, every once in awhile he found his gaze sliding back to her. He wasn't quite sure when, but at some point since he'd stumbled across her in St. Catharines, he'd stopped seeing her as the witness who got away and started seeing her more as Sarah's friend. Maybe even as a fellow cop. What hadn't changed though, was that he'd wanted to protect her back then and he still wanted to protect her now. It was a little unnerving, even with protecting the public being part of his job description. With her, it wasn't a job. He wanted to make sure she was okay. Same with his sister.

When the feeling of being watched didn't go away, Andy's head snapped in Sam's direction, her eyes meeting his until he gave her a small smile and finally averted his gaze. Odd, she thought as her eyebrows knit together in confusion. But, before she had time to really dwell on things, her attention was shifting to her apartment building, which was now right in front of them.

It wasn't until that moment that Andy realized that she hadn't really thought things through. What am I supposed to do with him?

As if in response to her silent question, he leaned up against the brick wall, settling himself there in a way that made it clear that he'd wait for her there.

Still, she hesitated. "It's cold," she said quietly. Her hand lingered on the door handle for a moment before finally tugging the door open and gesturing for him to step inside.

He didn't. Instead, he studied her.

"And it'll be bad if you're seen out here… by anyone," she added, surprised by the strength in her voice.

No reaction.

"I'm cold," she said, her tone almost pleading.

With a small nod, he stepped through the front door, eyeing the hallway and the stairwell.

Drawing in a steady breath, she jerked her head toward the stairs. "I'm on the third floor."

"Okay." He nodded again, unsure of whether to stay or to follow her up.

Three steps up, Andy turned back to look at him. "There will be fewer people coming and going up there."

Taking that as an invitation to follow, he did, though he approached her slowly until he was beside her, ensuring he matched her pace so that he was always visible. Still, she seemed uneasy. "Look, about what I said in the bar… to that guy… it's not—"

"Not you?"

"Yeah." He let out a loud breath. "This… job… it's different. You have to be someone you aren't. Someone—"

"Like them?"

His lips curled upward. "Exactly." His smile faltered, replaced by a grimace. "It's not glamorous, by any means, and—"

"It's okay," Andy said. "You were just doing your job, and you were looking out for me. I get it. You just caught me off guard and… and it took me a little bit to bounce back. But, I get it. I do. You did what you had to do, and it's okay, really."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't apologize."

"But you want to, and I think you were going to." A small smile touched her lips. "Even if Sarah thinks you apologizing is something of an anomaly."

Once again, he found himself unnerved by her ability to read him. He had been on the verge of apologizing, and it wasn't exactly commonplace for him. But, he needed to apologize for his vulgar behaviour in the bar. Needed her to know that wasn't him talking – it was his undercover persona. "Well, I'm sorry."

Her lips twitched a little more. "Told you it's okay."

They reached the third floor and soon found themselves standing outside her door.

"Take as long as you need," Sam said, once again leaning up against the wall to indicate that he didn't intend to go any further.

With a small nod, she unlocked her door and reached for the doorknob. Her fingers clasped the cool metal and she turned it, but just as she moved to push the door open, a loud crash sounded from the unit across from hers. Andy whirled around, eyes darting to the door.

The muffled voices turned into what sounded like a yelling match, followed by more banging and then a shrill cry. "Not again," Andy groaned. Fist pounding against her neighbour's door, she yelled, "Open up."

Sam stared at her, worry flitting across his face. Not again? "Domestic?"

"Third time this month." She pulled out her phone and dialed 9-1-1 as she knocked on the door again, this time with greater urgency. Come on…

His eyebrows shot upward. "And the first two times…?"

She didn't answer. Just continued to pound on the door, heart racing and blood boiling. I swear, Paul Langley, if you hurt her…

"McNally?"

"It's… it's her ex-boyfriend," she said, but before she could offer up any additional details, a voice on the other end of the phone spoke. After relaying her badge number, location, and the situation, Andy quickly disconnected the call. "You should go," she said to Sam.

A noise of pure disbelief escaped his throat. "Umm, what?" Surely he'd misheard. She couldn't possibly expect him to just leave? To leave her alone in this mess?

Andy took a few steps back, her eyes still on the door. "You can't be here when the cops show up."

"I'm not leaving you."

Not wanting to waste time arguing, she lifted her left leg and kicked hard at the door, watching as it crashed open, slamming hard into the sidewall. Seeing the determination in his eyes, and knowing that he wasn't going to abandon her, she merely shook her head and darted inside.

Cursing under his breath, Sam followed, heart thundering in his chest. He couldn't get caught. Couldn't blow his op. Lose his job. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But, he couldn't just leave her. Apparently he couldn't slow her down either. She completely ignored him and instead raced through the apartment. "McNally," he called out, already losing sight of her. "Dammit," he muttered as he picked up his pace and moved down the hallway toward the ruckus.

Too late.

By the time he entered the bedroom, she'd already tackled a balding man. And, for a moment, it looked like she had everything under control – the guy was pinned beneath her and he seemed to be complying. But, as Sam took another step forward, he realized that despite what it looked like from a distance, this wasn't the case.

Each breath Andy took seemed to come quicker and sharper. She was losing it and she knew it.

The perp knew it too.

And by the time Sam did, it was too late.

Paul Langley threw Andy off of him like she was a ragdoll, then lunged at her, obscenities spewing out of his mouth as his fingers moved to curl around her neck.

Anger boiling in the pit of his stomach, Sam darted forward and yanked the guy off of her, slamming his fist into the perp's face and knocking the guy out cold. The anger didn't dissipate though. Nor did the desire to pound the guy some more. In fact, it became almost overwhelming. Red coloured his vision, consuming him. But, just when he thought he might lose it completely, the sound of Andy's sharp breaths pulled him back to his senses. His attention swung back to her, his anger dissolving as concern took over. "Just breathe, McNally. You're okay."

Her eyes slowly traveled up to his before sliding to the body on the floor. He… he protected me. He didn't go. Risked his op to back me up.

"Breathe," Sam said, his tone much softer this time. "In and out, slowly." He glanced at the other woman, who nodded to indicate that she was okay, then turned back to Andy. She still wasn't doing well. Taking his own advice, he inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled, willing himself to calm down more. When he felt like he had regained some more control, he made an attempt at humour. "You know, I think you've got the whole tackling thing down pat."

A choked laugh escaped her.

His lips twitched. "I see kissing doesn't extend to everyone you tackle though."

A hint of pink crept into her cheeks, causing her focus to shift and her breathing to slowly even out. "I… I didn't…"

"Unless you laid one on him the first two times," he said, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face as her blush deepened.

"Sarah was right," Andy said, inhaling slowly before continuing. "Your jokes really are terrible." Secretly, she appreciated his attempt though. It gave her something else to think about and helped her regulate her breathing and compose herself faster.

"Hey now, I thought that one was pretty good," Sam argued.

Rolling her eyes, she merely shook her head. "You have to go."

He hesitated. She was right. With on-duty cops on their way, he couldn't be caught in the middle of this, not while he was undercover. But, how could he just leave her here? Sure, the guy was knocked out, but what if he woke up before the cops arrived? And what if the neighbour told them that he'd been there? Or, what if someone else had seen him come up?

"Go," she whispered, finally pushing herself to her feet. She reached for the other woman's hand and tugged her toward the door, all the while looking over her shoulder to see if Sam was following.

He was, though the expression on his face did little to hide the fact that even though his feet were carrying him forward, his mind was still waging some sort of inner battle.

For a moment, Andy's gaze lingered on him, wondering about the creases of worry that etched the otherwise smooth-looking skin just above his eyebrows. The hesitation, marked by the thin line his lips had transformed into. And his eyes…

She sucked in a sharp breath as his gaze shot up and their eyes met.

"I can't," Sam said, stopping once they reached the neighbour's door.

"Yes, you can. You have to," Andy insisted, twisting the doorknob and yanking the door open. "You can't risk being seen talking to the cops."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. She was right. He knew she was, but that didn't make him feel any better about potentially leaving her.

"Look, they're gonna be here any second and he's still out cold," Andy rushed out. "There's nothing else you can do here, okay? So, the best thing is if… you go."

Though he was still undecided, he opened his mouth to speak, but she was already stepping out into the hallway. He followed.

Voices sounded from the stairwell.

Andy's eyes widened and a soft curse tumbled from her lips. "Not her," she said with a groan. Of all the cops who could have responded, there was only one whom Andy definitely didn't want to come. And it was that very officer whose voice now pierced the otherwise quiet apartment building. Panic flooded her. There was no way Sam would make it to the other stairwell before the witch made it to the third floor. Eyes darting to her own unit, Andy did the only thing she could think of. She pushed her own door open and then shoved Sam inside before whirling back around to face her neighbour.

"He wasn't here… okay?" Andy whispered. "He's a… friend. A cop. But, nobody can know he was here. It's really important. So… please?"

The woman, still shaking from the encounter with her ex, merely nodded.

A split second later, Marlo came into view, her expression turning almost smug when her eyes landed on Andy.

"You okay, Officer McNally?" Marlo's partner, Jaxon, asked.

She nodded and tilted her head toward her neighbour's place. "He's uh… he's in there."

Marlo's scrutinizing gaze had Andy shifting uncomfortably, but when she lifted her brown orbs, she met the other woman's eyes with an even stare of her own.

"Don't move," Officer Cruz said as she moved to follow Jaxon into the woman's place.

Andy didn't verbally acknowledge the command. She knew well enough that she'd need to provide a statement. Of course, Marlo Cruz thought she was an idiot that needed to be reminded of every little protocol. A hint of anger bubbled up in her stomach, but she quickly pushed it aside and turned back to her neighbour. "You okay?"

The woman nodded.

"We're gonna get him this time," Andy said, determined to see to it that the charges actually stuck, unlike on the previous occasions.

"He's not going to give up," the woman said. "Even if he goes away, he'll find me after."

"There are options," Andy said slowly. "Protective services. Restraining orders. There are ways we can help ensure your safety. Keep him away. But, your best bet right now is testifying against him."

"I don't know if I can."

Drawing in a deep breath, Andy tried again. "I know it's hard." That was an understatement. She'd had the choice to testify against Jimmy. Hell, she could've testified against her own boyfriend… ex-boyfriend, now. But, she hadn't. Instead, she'd fled the city. Let him – them – go free. And although Jimmy was now sitting behind bars, she had to face the guilt of wondering if he'd hurt anyone else. And, if he had, she could only blame herself for not having the courage to stand up to him all of those years ago. The thought of Paul Langley laying his filthy hands on another woman – or even again on the woman in front of her now – had Andy feeling sick. "Guys like that, they're not gonna stop. They're gonna continue to hurt you. Hurt others. But we can stop him, even if it's just for a little while. And, maybe it'll be long enough to get him help too. Change him. I mean, he won't do that on his own. Won't change."

When the woman remained silent, Andy continued, "Sue, I know what it feels like to live in fear… to always be looking over my shoulder. And a long time ago, I made the mistake of turning away help because I was scared. Terrified to act." She paused. "I regret it now. Not accepting help when it was offered. Not having the courage to put some… some bad people behind bars and stop them from hurting myself, and others. Unfortunately I can't it take it back, and I can't make you testify against him. That's up to you. But, so long as he's around, I can't guarantee your safety."

The discussion was ended as the door opened and Jaxon, Marlo, and Paul stepped out into the hallway.

"Another car is on the way. We're taking you to the station for your statement," Marlo said to Andy and Sue.

A frown creased Andy's forehead. Is that really necessary? Can't they just question me here? She bit back a dry laugh. Of course not. It's Marlo. The woman hates me and will probably do anything to inconvenience me. Another surge of fear passed through her. What if Paul mentions Sam? Hell, what if Sue accidentally brings him up?

"McNally," Marlo said sharply, drawing Andy out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, fine," Andy ground out.

An hour later…

"You sure you're okay?" James asked once Sue was safely back in her apartment with the door locked.

Andy nodded slowly. "Just tired. I wasn't expecting to be kept for so long."

"She could've questioned you here. Ten or fifteen minutes of talking and you could've been sleeping like a baby."

"Like a baby?"

"Or a lumberjack," James said.

She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure which one is less flattering."

A small smile crept onto his face. "I'm sure you look absolutely adorable when you're sleeping."

Pink coloured her cheeks. "Maybe I snore as loud as a freight train and drool like a St. Bernard."

"Maybe one day, down the road, I'll find out."

This time Andy smiled. "Maybe."

He nodded toward her door. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, Jaxon said she's going to testify, so that's a good thing, right?"

"It is," James agreed.

"Then yeah, I'm… I'm gonna be okay."

Dropping a tender kiss on her cheek, James said, "Call me if you need anything… even if you just want to talk."

"Okay," she whispered, her hand brushing up against his arm. When it became abundantly clear that he was waiting for her to go inside before he left, she said, "I think I might step outside for a minute… get some air."

He kept her company as they stood just outside of her building.

She debated telling him about her run-in with Sam, but ultimately decided against it. She needed to conquer her fear on her own – without James and without Sam, and if she told her boyfriend that her best friend's brother was trying to help her, he'd probably insist on helping too. And, while she'd appreciate the offer, she'd initially set out to do this on her own and, despite agreeing to let Sam assist her, she was edging back towards riding things out solo.

"I should get some sleep," she said quietly, though she found herself leaning back a little more into the comfort of his arms.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and squeezed her a little tighter, holding on for another moment before reluctantly letting her go.

Spinning to face him, she smiled softly. "Thank you for coming…"

James returned the smile. "I'm just glad you let me know."

It really hadn't even been an option. If she hadn't called him to let him know about the incident, then he would have been ticked off the next day and with things steadily progressing between them, the last thing she wanted to do was cause ripples. "Goodnight," she whispered, pushing up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his lips.

"Sleep well, Andy," he replied, waiting until the apartment door closed behind her before retreating to his car.

She watched from the other side of the glass door until he was gone from sight, then headed back up to the third floor. Once outside her door, Andy paused and listened.

Silence.

Good, she thought. Not that she expected to hear anything. Paul was sitting in a cell at 15 Division and her other neighbours weren't horribly noisy most of the time. Still, it was a relief – if only a fleeting moment of comfort before the anxiety of what may or may not be on the other side of her own door set in.

As her fingers curled around the doorknob to her place, she drew in a shaky breath, wondering for the umpteenth time if she should have asked James to stay with her for a little bit. But, she didn't know what she'd find on the other side of the door… if Sam would still be in there, or not. If he wasn't, then that meant her door was left unlocked and her apartment wide open for anyone to walk into. And that terrified her. "You can do this," she whispered to herself before slowly turning the doorknob and pushing it open.

A lamp in the living room immediately drew her attention, yet from her place in the doorway, she couldn't see anyone. Heart racing, she stepped inside, softly closing the door without turning. She debated calling out, but the sound of light snoring met her ears. Perps don't fall asleep in places they rob. Her step faltered. Maybe it's a homeless person. She shook the thought aside and continued further into her apartment, the first visible sign of an occupant being the little bit of dark hair sticking up over the side of the couch.

Biting down on her lower lip, she quietly crept toward the couch and peered over the back. Sam. A small smile started to form, until she realized that she didn't know what to do.

One hand reached toward him, hovering a few inches above his shoulder before pulling away. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn't had a decent night of sleep in months. Not that her couch would give him one, but he seemed comfortable enough. Would waking him up be wrong? I mean, he was trying to help me. He did help. And it's getting late. He's obviously tired. She hesitated a little longer, then retreated to the front door to lock it, casting one more glance in Sam's direction before heading to the bathroom for a long shower. Maybe he'll wake up by the time I'm done.

But, he wasn't awake by the time she turned off the water, dried herself, and changed into something a little more comfortable. Okay, you can do this, Andy. You slept under the same roof at Sarah's house, so it's the same thing, right? Her mind screamed at her. No. Sarah was there. Doubt crept in. But… but he won't do anything. I mean, he wouldn't… would he? After what Sarah went through and after trying to help me, he doesn't seem like that kind of guy. She drew in a deep breath, struggling to calm her nerves. I could call Sarah? She immediately dismissed the idea. No, no, I can't. He shouldn't even be here. He's still undercover. If Sarah or anyone knew that he contacted me… She let out a loud breath. This could jeopardize his op. So then, why is he doing this? Why is he here? She mentally shook herself. He can stay the night, but in the morning, he has to go. He can't help me. He can't risk his op because of me. Besides, the idea is ridiculous anyway. I hardly know him. Grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, she reached over and carefully draped it over him, lingering even after he was covered. He looks… so much younger when he sleeps. Like the weight of the world isn't on his shoulders. Her head automatically tilted as she studied him a little closer. There's a gentleness about him now. Not that he hasn't shown compassion before… a softer side. He has. He just… everything about him seems more natural when he sleeps. Like he's less guarded. Isn't wearing a mask. Realizing she'd been staring at him for several minutes, she quickly moved to her bedroom and closed the door, turning the little knob to lock it.

The next morning…

Sam cracked an eyelid open and squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the sunlight that was breaching the living room curtains. Living room? Opening both eyes wider, he glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The place was almost barren of personal touches. Even the furnishings were scarce. The basics were there, but the whole unit looked like it had hardly been lived in. A frown creased his forehead. Did I drink too much last night? Crash on someone's couch? He drew in a deep breath as a series of curses ran through his head. Who…? No. This is… it's… McNally. This is McNally's apartment, he thought as the events from the night before came flooding back. And I… fell asleep? His frown deepened. He'd been waiting for her to return, but he never heard her come in. The thought nearly had him jerking upward, a hint of panic surging through him. Is she okay? Dammit, I never should have left her to deal with this alone. What if…?

As his body started to rise, soft footsteps sounded from somewhere behind the couch. Somewhere down the small hallway…? Sam thought, trying to gauge her distance. Thinking she hadn't seen him move, he quickly settled back down on the soft fabric, closed his eyes, and focused on steadying his breathing and relaxing his expression. Lie still. Don't scare her. Even as he did this, he couldn't help but feel a little foolish. Yet, he suspected that she'd need a few moments – to almost re-adjust to the fact that he was still there – and things would probably go over smoother if she thought he was sleeping.

"Sam?" Andy said softly, nervously peering over the couch to find his eyes closed.

No response.

She rounded the couch and stared down at him in silence. Why won't you just wake up? I have to go to work… "Sam?" she tried again, her voice a whisper.

Still, no response. Hell, I should get an award for this performance. But… when am I supposed to "wake up"? He felt himself tense for a moment, but quickly recovered, resuming his act and hoping that she hadn't seen his small slipup.

After a hesitant moment, she slowly reached toward him, her hand hovering in the air for a few seconds before it landed on his shoulder. Even through his clothes, there was a strange warmth permeating the fabric and causing heat to wash over her body and, with it, an unusual tingling sensation. Sam Swarek, are you even human? Andy's eyebrows furrowed and her head tilted as she eyed him with a newfound curiosity. And then her hand shifted to his, eyes locked on his face as the tips of her fingers brushed up against the skin on the back of his hand.

Sam struggled to keep up his façade, but the lightness of her touch tickled and the bizarre sensation that the contact created nearly had him opening his eyes to see what she was doing. Afraid he'd crack, he shifted a little, hoping she'd back off before he completely blew the act.

Sure enough, Andy jumped backward, the back of her calves hitting the coffee table with a small thump. A soft curse escaped her before her hand could fly to her mouth to stifle it. Heart pounding heavily in her chest, her gaze snapped back to his face, her brown orbs wide as she stared down at him.

No movement.

Are you dead? she wondered as she frantically searched his face for signs that he might be waking up. But, he still seemed to be out of it. Letting out a sigh of relief that she hadn't been caught, she quickly retreated to the kitchen, her heart still beating a lot faster than it had been just minutes before.

From behind the island in the kitchen, she eyed Sam again. Why is it that you don't scare me as much as most men do? Is it because you're Sarah's brother? Because I trust her and she trusts you? It doesn't make sense. I don't know you. Very little, anyway. You're pretty much a stranger. Acquaintance, maybe. But, I don't know who you are. What you want. Why you're even here. I shouldn't trust you, but I think part of me does. Or wants to. Because, why else wouldn't I panic as much when I'm around you… when I touch you?

When he was sure that she was gone, he opened his eyes, then waited a few more minutes before rising. Still, he gave her a couple more minutes to herself and, instead, focused his attention back on the room. "McNally?"

Hearing her footsteps, he slowly turned toward the kitchen.

She forced a small smile, though her nerves were running rampant.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked.

"Fine."

He hesitated, then turned back to examine the room. "Been in this place for long?"

"Since I moved back here… why?"

"Not one for decorating, huh?" he pressed.

Andy folded her arms across her chest, slightly offended. "I never saw the point."

He turned back to her, an eyebrow quirked. "Because you don't want to get too attached to anything, in case you feel the need to pick and go in a hurry?"

She shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing. At first it was because she didn't have the money to spend on items that she didn't absolutely need. But, as time went on, she'd never bothered to personalize any space she'd lived in because she never knew how long she'd be there. The fact that he'd picked up on that, unnerved her.

"Is this home for you, McNally?"

Pressing her lips together, she ignored him and turned back toward the kitchen.

Grimacing, he followed, knowing that he had to do some serious damage control. "Sarah's place has always felt more like home than my own."

She cast a quick look in his direction before pulling a large bowl out of the cupboard.

"Until I started going undercover, I never really realized how personal touches could make a place feel like a home," he continued.

There was a moment of silence before she finally spoke. "From what I've heard, you spend most of your time undercover, so how is it that Sarah's place or even your own place could even remotely feel like home?"

Leaning up against the counter, he said, "They're the places I always return to. Might not be often, but it always feels good to go back." He shrugged, thankful that she was still talking to him. That she hadn't completely shut him out, even if her tone was a little harder than it had been moments before.

Andy busied herself with pulling items out of various cupboards and drawers.

"Do you go to St. Catharines often?" Sam asked.

"No."

He frowned. "But it's more of a home to you than anything here?"

Her movements stilled and though she'd been trying to avoid eye contact, she finally turned to look at him. "It was…"

"Was?"

She focused her attention back on the ingredients in front of her.

"McNally?"

Her jaw tightened. It had felt like home. Up until her past came back to haunt her… in a manner of speaking anyway. Although Sam had proven himself to be nothing like she'd expected, the little bit of peace that she'd felt at Sarah's place had vanished the second she saw him there. As if her whole world had been turned upside down. And while she still enjoyed returning to St. Catharines to visit, she couldn't help but be reminded of the power Sam had over her. Not so much anymore, now that things had come to light, but she was sure there were still some things he hadn't divulged about the case… at least, not in their entirety and it was those things that still had her thoughts running rampant, wondering when or if he might ever reveal them and what the consequences would be. "Hungry?"

"Curious."

One eyebrow shot upward, but she refused to offer up any kind of explanation. "Are you hungry?" she asked, her tone firmer.

"You know you're always welcome there," Sam said, referring to Sarah's place. "You can always call it home."

God, he's persistent. She inwardly groaned, and squeezed her eyes shut tight for a long moment, before finally turning to look at him again. "Why wasn't I charged for impeding an investigation? Or for… anything?"

Sam's mouth fell open for a split second before he adopted a neutral expression, though there was a stretch of silence before he finally responded. "You… cooperated. Provided the necessary evidence to put the perp away."

"Eventually," Andy said with a pointed look. "But my involvement after giving you everything was very minimal."

"Did you want to be more involved?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Well, no, but—"

"Then why does it bother you?"

Andy hesitated. "Did Sarah ask you—?"

"No."

"But you did something…?" she pressed.

"You know what, I think I am hungry," Sam said quickly. He'd pulled a few strings and tweaked a couple things to ensure that Andy was involved as little as possible in the proceedings, and while it really wasn't a huge deal in his mind, something about the way she was asking had him feeling uncomfortable.

Without a word, she focused her attention back on mixing ingredients in the bowl and preparing pancakes, gradually finding a more comfortable silence washing over them. A silence that lasted until they sat on the barstools at her island and took their first bite of breakfast.

"I thought Sarah was a good cook, but this… this is really good," Sam said, giving her a small smile as his fork moved to pick up a second piece.

Andy returned the smile, though it was a shy one and she never met his eyes.

"Did your dad teach you?" he asked between mouthfuls.

Without a word, she abruptly rose from her stool and grabbed her plate, dumping the remnants of her barely eaten pancake in the garbage and depositing her plate in the sink. It was a pretty normal question. At least, it was for anyone leading a relatively normal life. But, between her rough upbringing and not having seen her father in years, it was the kind of question that struck an emotional chord.

Sam sat, bewildered, for another moment before rising and rounding the counter. He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could get any words out, she spoke.

"My mom was always the cook," Andy said quietly. "Never really taught me anything though." Except that you can't even trust your own family to have your back, she thought. "And when she left, my dad and I ate a lot of takeout or salad from a bag… well, he liked to call it rabbit food."

"So you taught yourself?" Sam asked, eyebrows rising in surprise.

Andy shrugged. "I don't go out much, so I had to fill my time somehow, right?"

"Well, James is lucky."

She shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing. She'd only ever made food for Sarah and Cooper. James had seen her apartment, but he'd never stayed the night and she'd never cooked for him.

Thinking he'd offended her, he said, "Not that you'd be cooking for him. I didn't mean that you, as a woman, should be…" He gestured toward the kitchen. "Just that, if you do ever…" He trailed off as his attention became more focused on studying her than on trying to form a coherent sentence and viable excuse. Though he couldn't quite determine what she was thinking, he was now fairly certain that she hadn't been offended… her discomfort stemmed from something else.

Feeling the intensity of his stare, Andy shifted again. "You should probably finish eating… I, uh… I have to go to work soon."

"I should probably get going anyway," Sam said, nodding toward the door. "Is he picking you up?"

"Umm…" She rolled her lips together. Despite his previous warning, she'd planned on walking to work… again.

Having a pretty good idea what her answer was, he sat back down on his stool. Seeing her questioning look, he said, "I'm gonna finish this while you get ready, and then I'm gonna walk you to work."

Andy shook her head. Bad idea. "It's light out. Someone might see you. I mean, they could've already seen you last night, but in broad daylight…"

It was a good point and he knew he should listen… that he should just go and never come back. But, he didn't want her walking alone. And, against his better judgment, he was pretty sure he'd be returning. In fact, he was already set on coming back. "Two options, McNally: you either go get ready now and make it to work on time, or you continue to argue with me and end up being late. You choose."

She stared at him for a moment. "You're stubborn."

"So are you."

"More so than Sarah," Andy added.

He nodded. "I learned from the best."

Her lips twitched. "If she heard you say that—"

"She won't." Sam gave her a pointed look.

Andy shrugged. "You know, I can take care of myself. I don't need you to walk me to work. Or have me followed.

"I know," he agreed. "You don't need help and you don't need someone to walk you to work or wherever else. But, that doesn't mean that people aren't going to want to help."

She remained silent.

"There's nothing wrong with letting people be there for you."

"You shouldn't be here though."

"You're gonna be late," Sam reminded her, eyeing the time on the stove clock.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Do you always deflect when you don't want to admit that someone else is right?"

"Do you even know how to let someone else help you?" he shot back.

"Do you?"

Sam bit back his retort and simply stared at her. Was that a slip of the tongue, or does she…? She can't know. She doesn't really know me. And there's no way she can read me that well. In an attempt to prove her wrong, he said, "You helped me… at the restaurant."

"You didn't have a choice."

"Doesn't matter. Still happened."

She shrugged. "Sarah helped me… and James… and… and you…"

"All of whom forced their way into your life, McNally," Sam argued. "But, who have you ever really let in… on your own?"

"You're in my house," Andy said, hands on her hips. "Which means, I let you in. So, I'd say that qualifies."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Maybe not, but I let you in and in about ten minutes I'm gonna kick you out too."

He held up his hands in defeat and returned to eating his pancakes as she retreated into her bedroom.

Sure enough, within ten minutes she was ushering him out the door, giving him a sidelong look when he proceeded to follow her down the street. "You're being stupid," Andy said, casting another glance in his direction.

"You walking alone is stupid," he replied.

"Jimmy and Brady are sitting behind bars."

"You know they weren't alone. Your ex is still out there, and—"

"Is he? Because when I was being followed, I seem to remember asking you to leave that guy alone, but you didn't, did you? So, who knows who is still out there…"

Sam's eyes darted in her direction before scanning the streets again. "Look, I may have mentioned something to Oliver when I ran into him, and he may have picked up the guy. But, your ex is still out there and so are Jimmy's other friends. And, despite trying to pile on the charges, I really don't think your stalker is going to stay locked up for very long."

"I knew that when I came back… about Jimmy." She paused. "And it scares me, but things have always been different. Every time I'm around people, I just…" She trailed off. "I can't live like that. Can't be afraid of walking the ten minutes to work. Can't rely on someone always being with me in case things go south, you know? I can't do it. So, yeah, they might still be out there, and maybe that guy following me wasn't an anomaly. But, I need to believe he was. I need to at least think that it won't happen again. That I can move on and one day actually start living my life." She wet her lips. "But it doesn't mean that I'm not paying attention and that I won't be prepared in case something happens. I just… I can't live as if something will happen."

"You might not live if something does happen," he argued.

"I'm not trying to be reckless, but…" She trailed off and simply shook her head instead. No matter what she said, she had a feeling he'd never see things eye-to-eye with her. That he'd always think she was taking an unnecessary risk. But, to her, taking the extra precautions would feel like her last and perhaps only shred of freedom was being taken away.

"That guy…" He grimaced. "… the one who was following you… he visited Jimmy in prison."

Andy's step faltered.

Though he was fairly certain she understood what he was getting at, he voiced his thoughts anyway. "Which means Jimmy probably knows you're back, and if he went through the trouble of having you tailed, who knows what he'll do."

Her heart stopped and, with it, her step. Oh god, my dad.

"Talk to me, McNally," Sam said, waving his hand about a foot in front of her face when she didn't seem to hear him.

No verbal response. But, the look that was crossing her face had him worried.

"Whatever you're thinking… don't," Sam warned.

"I…" She wet her lips, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "I thought staying away from my dad would be enough… even with me being back, I thought if I didn't see him or talk to him, then he'd be okay. But, what if I was wrong? What if they go after him?" She started forward again, her pace quick.

Sam barely managed to withhold a frustrated sigh. This woman is going to be the death of me… Despite having initially been surprised to learn that she hadn't seen her father since returning to the city, he now found himself suddenly glad that she hadn't. Until they knew the extent of Jimmy's… network… neither Andy or Tommy were safe. "Just… let me handle it, okay? I'll check on him. Find out if he's seen anyone unusual around…"

Andy shook her head. "You're… working."

He hesitated. "I'll get Oliver to swing by instead."

"Oh, because talking to him is more acceptable than talking to my dad? Did the, uh, no contact rule suddenly stop applying?"

Sam ground his teeth together. "Just slow down and listen."

She came to an abrupt halt and rounded on him. "No, you listen, okay? You have a job to do… and, you… you shouldn't even be here. Talking to me. Following me. You… you shouldn't. It's against the rules and I don't wanna be the reason your op is blown." The last part was said with a lowered voice. "I won't."

"I know what I'm doin—"

"Or worse," she added, giving him a sharp look.

"So you're gonna ask James then?" Sam pressed.

Andy rolled her lips together. "Fine."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she mumbled, her eyes sliding to 27 Division's exterior before shifting back to Sam.

A small smile crept onto his face. "Good." He took a step back. "Oh, and McNally?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me sleep on your couch." He paused. "I didn't mean to fall asleep… I just didn't want to leave with your door unlocked."

She merely nodded, not really knowing what to say in response.

"Have fun tackling the perps today, McNally." With a grin, he turned and walked back down the sidewalk, leaving her staring after him.

Later that night…

Andy frowned upon seeing the dark head of hair through her peephole. What the hell is he doing here?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

It was the second time Sam had pounded on the door in the last couple of minutes, but she'd yet to really acknowledge his presence. Maybe if I ignore him long enough, he'll go away. She inwardly groaned as she cast a glance back over her shoulder to the lamp on her side table. No, he probably saw the light on, which means I can't exactly feign being out… Not that I'd be out anyway. I mean, aside from work and picking up the necessities, it's not like I really leave the house. A grimace etched itself onto her face when she realized that – to her dismay – he probably knew that too. Nope, definitely can't fake being out. Can't even fake being at work. Letting out a loud breath, she steeled herself for a confrontation.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"I'm not here," she muttered. To her horror, a chuckle sounded from the other side of the door. Embarrassment caused colour to flood her cheeks. He heard!

"Can you not be here and still open the door?"

Drawing in a deep breath, she turned all of the locks, unhooked the chain, and slowly opened her door, doing her best to adopt a neutral expression. "Did you forget something?"

He gave her an odd look. "The bar."

"The… oh." He was going to take me to a bar last night. Right. "Umm, yeah, I uh… I thought we were just going to forget about that?"

"I didn't forget."

"Oh." She bit down on her lower lip. Maybe I didn't make myself clear enough this morning? "Well, I changed my mind. Decided to try something else." It was a lie. A big, fat lie. But, she had no intention of putting his life or his op at risk even more than she already had.

"Really?"

Unable to look him in the eye, she stared at the wall behind him. "Yup."

"So what are you trying?"

She rolled her lips together, but said nothing. Stubborn man.

"So is this new thing working for you, McNally?"

"Uh huh," she mumbled, silently willing him to go away.

"But you don't want to tell me what it is…?" he pressed.

Her eyes flicked up to his before settling on the floor. "Nope."

"Okay."

For a moment, she thought he was going to give up and leave. But then he opened his mouth again, a small smile playing out on his lips.

"Grab your coat and boots."

Andy hesitated. Huh? That's not… He's supposed to leave. "I have…" The excuse fell flat, the words failing to materialize as her mind went blank. What do I have to do?

"You what…? Have a book to read? A TV show to watch?" he supplied, an eyebrow quirked knowingly. "Or something to cook or bake?"

Andy's eyes narrowed. "It's none of your business."

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against her doorframe, knowing full well that he was walking a fine line that could very easily end with a door being slammed shut in his face. "Is it really more important than your career? The very job you've worked so hard to get?"

"You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice going quiet.

"Well, if you'd hurry up and get your things, then I wouldn't have to be here," he teased, his lips twitching.

She shook her head. "I… I can't, okay? So, just go."

"Why?"

"I've already screwed up enough things," she whispered as she pushed the door shut, gently forcing him back out into the hall.

One day later…

She cast a nervous glance in James' direction. "You remember what you're supposed to say, right?"

"Yeah, Andy, I do," he replied, trying to give her a reassuring smile despite the hint of annoyance that he felt. It was the seventh time within the last hour that she'd asked and his answer hadn't changed.

"So you're just going to knock on the door, tell him that the local division has been getting reports of someone lurking around this area, and ask if he's seen anyone unusual…? That's it, right?"

"That's it," he confirmed.

She nodded slowly. "Okay, but… but are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Do you still want me to do this?" James said, taking in her worried expression.

A look of trepidation crossed her face, but she quickly forced it aside and smiled faintly in a bid to appear more confident about her decision. "I need to make sure he's okay… I need him to know to keep his eyes open, even if he doesn't really know what to look for."

James reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's gonna be okay."

She drew in a shaky breath and nodded again.

"But, I still wish you'd told me you were being followed."

Guilt crept over her. "I... I didn't want you to worry. And, it wasn't a big deal—"

"Andy, you were being followed. That is a big deal. That isn't normal."

"But it was being taken care of, so it was fine..."

James shook his head. "I'm your boyfriend and your partner..."

"Yeah, but—"

"And that means that you should be able to tell me anything." He let out a frustrated breath. "I could've helped you. I would have. As a man, your boyfriend, a cop. It doesn't matter. If you'd told me, I would've helped."

"I know," Andy said, unbuckling her seatbelt so that she could turn toward him. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It's just... I kind of wanted to leave all of that in the past, you know? I didn't want it to affect us now… I mean, things are good. And they're..." She paused and wet her lips. "…well, things are great with us and I just... I didn't want anything to get in the way of that."

With a resigned sigh, James nodded slowly. "Just don't keep anything from me again, okay? I want to help you, to be there for you, but I can't if you won't let me in."

"Okay," Andy whispered, trying but failing to give him a small smile. Even now, she hadn't told him everything – hadn't told him that Sam had been the one to help her – but she was afraid that if she brought it up now then it might blow up in her face. Not that she thought her boyfriend would be jealous. It was more that Sam's involvement might raise questions as to why another man – a cop, no less – seemed so invested in helping her, and that required an answer that went beyond her simply being his sister's friend to the dark secrets in her past. The murder.

"Alright, then let's do this," James said, leaning over the centre console to place a chaste kiss on her lips before getting out of the car.

Andy watched from the passenger seat as her boyfriend and partner rounded the car and headed up the walkway to her dad's place. "Breathe," she whispered to herself, nervously rubbing her sweaty palms against her thighs.

Seeing James knock on her dad's door for a second time, she frowned. "Where are you, dad?"

The question had hardly left her lips when the door opened. But, instead of seeing her dad standing in the doorway, there was a woman. Andy's body jerked toward the passenger side window, her face nearly pressed up against the glass as she took in the stranger's appearance. Short. Average build. Gentle looking. Greying hair…? From her vantage point, there was little else she could distinguish. "Who are you?" Andy whispered, a lump forming in her throat at the reminder of just how much time had passed since she'd last seen her dad.

Now, more than ever, she wished she could hear what was being said. Instead, all she could do was sit and watch as the woman frowned, then seemed to call out over shoulder.

And then he appeared. The man who'd raised her. The guy she hadn't seen or spoken to in years. Her dad. Sucking in a sharp breath, Andy forced herself away from the window and tugged on her police baseball cap in an effort to conceal her face a little more. Curiosity soon won over though. And the overwhelming desire to see him. To make sure he was okay. Her fingers reached for the door handle, but froze upon seeing the woman lean over and place a chaste kiss on her dad's cheek before vanishing back into the house. Tears pricked Andy's eyes, though her lips tugged upward. He found someone. Seems happy. Cared for. Although she was relieved to know that her dad wasn't miserable and alone, she couldn't seem to help the growing pain in her chest... knowing that her dad had moved on… didn't need her anymore. The tears spilled over, falling hard and fast. There was no going back. Not without disrupting his new life.

When her dad's head snapped in the direction of the squad car, she turned away, ducking her head and letting the tears silently fall, only wiping them away when the driver's door opened.

James closed the door behind him, then turned to her, giving her hand another gentle squeeze. "You know, you can always change your mind. It's not too late – you can go see him."

Andy rolled her lips together and shook her head. She hadn't told James the full story. He knew she'd been raped, but he didn't know about the murder. And, although she wanted to be honest with him about everything, she just couldn't bring herself to completely relive the past. Quite simply, she didn't want his opinion of her to change. So, she'd only told him the basics. Enough to get him to go along with her plan – to check on her dad… though, really, she suspected he'd do anything for her. He'd already helped her through the Academy, took on the task of training her at 27 Division, vouched for her. "He seems happy," Andy said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"He'd be happier knowing that his daughter is back. Knowing that you're safe."

"I can't risk it," she replied. "I shouldn't have even been in the car for this. I mean, I almost came out."

He reached for her hand again. "You know that you can never be replaced, right? Regardless of who she is to him, he'll always love you and he'll always have a place for you in his heart… and in his life."

Andy nodded. "Did he… has he seen anyone?"

James shook his head. "Nobody suspicious." He hesitated. "He, uh… he did question why 27 Division is inquiring about someone potentially being in this neighbourhood though… outside of our district."

She silently cursed. Of course her dad – the former detective – would see the numbers on the car and question why it wasn't his old division at his doorstep. She should have agreed to let Sam talk to Oliver.

A rap on her window had her head snapping to look out, her heart stopping as familiar blue eyes stared back at her. "No," she breathed as the man on the other side of the car window stumbled backward in disbelief. "Dad…" She reached for the door handle again, but James stopped her.

"After everything, do you really wanna risk being seen out in the open with him?" He hesitated. "If you wanna do this, we take it inside. Him first, then you…"

Though it broke her heart, she knew James was right. The main reason she'd stayed away was to protect her dad and if anyone saw her with him now and something happened to him, she'd never forgive herself. And that meant that she had to stay away. No matter how much she wanted to talk to go in, she couldn't risk someone seeing her. "Get me out of here," she choked out, eyes cast downward as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

Later that night…

Andy's entire body tensed upon hearing the pounding on her door. Her first thought was that her dad had somehow discovered her address – maybe through some connections he'd managed to keep over the years. Her second thought was that maybe Jimmy's guys had found her. But, as she neared the door, her thoughts turned to Sam.

Sure enough, his dark hair met her eyes when she peered through the peephole.

With a resigned sigh, she opened the door. "I thought I told you to go?"

"I did," Sam said, an easy smile making its way onto his face. "And now I'm back."

She inwardly groaned. "I didn't mean temporarily."

"Hmm," was his only response.

"Look, I had a bad day and I really don't wanna make it worse," Andy said, her eyes downcast.

"Your dad?"

The softness in his voice startled her. She nodded, but didn't offer up anything else.

"Is he okay?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug. "He… he saw me."

Sam whistled loudly, knowing by the look on her face that it hadn't gone well. Nevertheless, he pushed for more information. "And…?"

"And I ran… well, drove… away." Her voice was barely audible.

He was silent for a long moment. "Come on, McNally. We're going out and I'm not taking no for an answer this time." When she didn't budge, a small smile formed on his lips. "Do you want me to wear a wig? Maybe even a fake moustache?"

Despite trying to look annoyed, she couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from turning upward as her resolve weakened. "Would you?" she challenged.

"If it means you'll come out."

"For an experienced UC cop, that seems like a rookie move."

"And yet, the thought of it alone is making you warm up to me," Sam said, his smile widening just a little.

"Is not," Andy argued.

"Liar."

She folded her arms across her chest, trying to look resolute.

"You're tough, McNally, but if you were really opposed to the idea, then you would've closed the door in my face again."

"Fine," she said, her left arm rising until her hand settled on the door, looking like she was about to close it.

The urge to tease her was strong, especially since he was fairly certain that this time she wouldn't shut him out, at least not that way. But, not wanting to press his luck, he refrained. "You might want your coat and boots, it's cold outside."

"I didn't say I was going."

"Suit yourself," he said with a small shrug, feigning indifference. With that, he turned and headed back down the hallway.

"Wait."

He turned to look over his shoulder, biting back a smirk at the torn expression on her face.

"You're sure nobody will recognize you?" she asked quietly.

After a moment's hesitation, he returned to her door. "Guaranteed."

With a heavy sigh, Andy conceded. "Okay." She knew they were being stupid, but he seemed determined and if she didn't find some kind of solution, then she was fairly certain that her days as a cop were rapidly coming to an end.

With that in mind, she followed Sam to a small pub just minutes from her house.

"I walk by here at least once a week, but I've never noticed it," Andy said as she stared up at the small sign above the door.

"Exactly," Sam replied, glancing in her direction. It was the reason he'd brought her there – it was relatively unknown. "Still worried about… things?"

She knew he was asking if she was still worried about blowing his op. "A little less…"

"Then, come on," he said, opening the door and gesturing for her to step inside.

After drawing in a deep breath, she obeyed, allowing him to lead her to a small table near the back of the place, just a few feet from the exit.

With the exception of placing drink orders, little was said for several minutes. Does he regret bringing me here? Andy wondered. Surely he'd say something otherwise…?

Sam leaned back against the bench, noting the way she clasped her hands together in an effort to stop herself from fidgeting. "Is it the place or me?"

"What?" she asked, staring at him blankly.

"You're nervous," he said, gesturing to her hands.

"Oh… umm…" She forced her hands apart, but within seconds, one of them had unconsciously shifted to fiddle with her coaster. "I'm fine."

"You weren't this nervous around me before."

Andy swallowed hard. "I… I'm not."

He looked doubtful.

"Okay, fine. Maybe you make me a little nervous," she admitted, eyes slowly trailing up to meet his. "But, not nearly as much as you should." She instantly regretted saying the last part, not because it wasn't true, but because she wasn't sure she wanted it to be. She wasn't prepared to have someone else barge into her life like that, especially someone she still didn't really know much about.

The next hour was largely spent in silence with Andy's eyes flicking from one side of the pub to the other, while Sam simply sat back and studied her, attempting to get a better read on her.

"Want another coffee or are you ready to head out?" he finally asked.

She glanced at her watch and tried to hide her disappointment. Does an hour spent in a strange place, surrounded by people really count for anything? Is it long enough? A small sigh escaped her. Maybe I should have made more of an effort to talk to him. Maybe then he would've wanted to stay longer.

As if reading her thoughts, Sam said, "We're not done yet."

Her eyes widened. "We aren't?"

"No."

"Then what—?"

"Where's the one place in the world that you feel safe, McNally?"

Her eyebrows knit together and her teeth gnawed down on her lower lip. "I… I don't know. I guess the water by Sarah's house."

"Anywhere in this city?"

She shook her head. "Why?"

"Just… come with me, okay?" he said, already starting to rise from their table.

"Where are we going?"

He stared at her for a long moment as if sizing her up. "There's something I wanna show you."

Though she followed him back out onto the street, curiosity and fear took over. "Where?"

Sam debated letting her find out on her own, but seeing the worry flash across her face, he finally said, "Outdoor skating rink… well, it's a basketball court right now… sort of."

"What?" Andy said in disbelief, her step faltering. Why would he take me there?

"Coming or not?"

Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded, then fell back into step with him. "Why are we here?" she asked when, twenty minutes later, they turned into a somewhat small-looking park.

"You're one of those people who like the game Twenty Questions, aren't you?"

"I don't play games." Not anymore, Andy silently added.

"Bet you'd like it."

She glared at him, but he merely smiled back at her and led her to a bench, taking up a spot at one end while she sat at the other.

Knowing it was only a matter of time before she repeated her question, Sam quickly spoke. "When I was a kid, I used to come out to a park like this all the time… to get away from my dad."

Eyebrows raised a fraction, Andy glanced over at him before scanning the park again. "Sarah doesn't talk about him."

"I'm not surprised," Sam said quietly. "He was… He isn't a good person." Seeing her tense, he added, "He used to beat us… my mom too." He folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to block out the cold. "Couldn't avoid it, unless he was passed out on the couch or we left the house." His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Sarah went to her meetings, and I went to the park. Skated… played a lot of hockey, until I broke my dad's stick." His grimace deepened. "As a punishment, he threw me in the shed and made me sleep there."

"That's—" Andy began, horrified.

"Not as bad as it sounds," Sam interrupted. "It meant I could avoid him." He let out a small laugh, watching as his breath spanned out in front of him in a small cloud of white. "I started getting in trouble just to be able to stay out there… to get away from him."

"Why didn't you call the cops?"

He gave her a sideways look, thinking that she of all people should get it. "Easier said than done."

Guilt washed over her. She hadn't gone to the cops, not until it was too late.

"But I did, several times, and eventually he was put away." He paused for a moment. "So, I guess these parks – these makeshift rinks – are one of the few happy memories I have of my childhood… And, they kind of became my safe place."

"Then why bring me here?" Andy asked slowly. "If it's your safe place, then why tell me?"

Sam was silent for a long moment. "Because it can be yours now too, if you want it."

She stared at him in awe, touched by the fact that he'd shared such a private part of his life with her, and that he was now offering to share his safe place with her too. "Thank you," she whispered, the words sounding choked.

He merely nodded, allowing a comfortable silence to wash over them once more. But, it didn't last long, especially when other thoughts started to tug at his mind. "No matter how bad things may seem, there's always some good, McNally. People, places, things. Could be anything. It's like this place. These people – these kids – they weren't born into wealth. Most of them don't have much. Some don't even really have families. But, in this place, they do. On that basketball court, they have an escape. A family."

Suspecting he had more to say, she waited.

"What do you see when you look out at those people? Those kids…?" he asked quietly, gesturing to the teenagers who were playing basketball on the slush-covered court. "And I'm not talking about what they're wearing or where you think they come from. When you encounter people – like in this moment – how do they make you feel?"

"Scared," she whispered.

"Because you don't trust them?"

Andy nodded, then blurted out, "Well, no…"

Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly, then looked back out toward the court.

"Yes, and no," she corrected. "Being around people, it reminds me that I'm not in control… that this thing shoves me into a different category. It reminds me that I'm different, that I can never be like them because no matter what I do, I'm never going to forget, and…"

Though he wanted to look at her again, he kept his eyes trained straight ahead.

"…and I don't know if I can ever really get over it. I thought I could." She shook her head. "I thought things were getting better, and they are in some ways, but I can't even do my job properly."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. She'd never really said what had gone wrong, and he wasn't about to jump to conclusions, so now that she was being more open with him, he figured that this might be his best shot at better understanding her current predicament.

A slight blush crept into her cheeks. "Ever since I was cut loose, they've been pairing me with other people, and I…"

"You don't trust them, not like you do with him?"

She nodded. "I just keep relapsing with them, and it just makes me feel so stupid and useless." Her gaze lowered to her hands. "I mean, everyone knows what happened, and I know I can't hide it, but I kind of wish I could."

He full out turned to face her this time. "You should never be ashamed or embarrassed about what happened." His tone was sharp. "It wasn't your fault, got it?"

"I'm just so tired… all the time. And, it's so frustrating because I can't help but feel like if only I'd said something sooner – or done something differently – then maybe things would be different. I'd be different. Not like this."

"It's not your fault," Sam repeated. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

She shook her head. "I didn't tell you. I didn't tell anyone."

"That doesn't make it your fault."

Andy shrugged, her mind reeling with the same questions she'd been asking herself since the night she was raped. "Do you think if I'd told you sooner, things would've been different?"

He let out a loud breath. "I don't know, McNally," he replied. "Could've been, but that guy, J.J…" He shook his head. "You've been a cop long enough to know that there are good people and there are bad people, but even the good ones can do bad things. That guy though, I talked to him and I don't know what you ever saw in him, but if you're asking me if coming clean right off the bat about what you saw would have prevented everything else from happening, then no, I don't think it would… not if you stayed with him."

She swallowed hard, but said nothing. It had been one of many questions she'd asked herself over and over again. There were times when she thought things would be different… other times, not. "It's just so frustrating," Andy said. "Constantly questioning everything and everyone. Feeling like I can't even trust myself… It's like… it's like I'm going crazy, just losing my mind. Caged or whatever." She paused, her eyes settling back on the people shooting hoops. "That's how those people make me feel… caged. Like I'm not in control of my own life."

He nodded slowly. "So why do you trust James?" He knew it was a pretty personal question, but he was curious.

"He got me through the Academy," Andy said with a small shrug. "And he gets it in a way that nobody else really seems to… aside from Sarah."

"How did he help you with the job?"

Andy hesitated. "I… I don't know. I think in a really weird way, it's mostly his presence. He got me through the Academy; he got me my job. And, he seems to know my limits, so I guess when I'm with him, I just don't second guess myself as much, and I know that if I screw up, he'll have my back."

With a small nod, he got up. "I'll be right back." He quickly jogged after the teens as they started to head back across the park, toward the road.

Andy watched as Sam pulled out his wallet, handed them what she presumed was money, and returned to the bench with the basketball.

"Here." Sam held the ball out to her, but instead of taking it, her gaze merely slid from the ball to his face and back again.

"No thanks." Her voice was quiet – barely audible, even – but the small shake of her head that accompanied the words made her stance clear.

"I thought you liked sports?" Sam prodded. "Played in school…?"

"I did."

"Okay, so take the ball." He reached out a little more in her direction.

Still, Andy didn't take it.

Puzzled, he studied her for a moment. She seemed a little tense. Nervous, maybe? But then there was something in her expression… a hint of pain. Not physical… Mental, perhaps...? As if the ball itself was drumming up some memories that she'd tried to bury. And, for a second, it made him hesitate. He knew very little about her, aside from what he'd learned when she was considered a witness, what was written in her journal, and whatever his sister had chosen to tell him. When he really considered who Andy McNally was – horrific past aside – most of what he knew about her likes and dislikes had come from their little chat in Sarah's kitchen. And, right now, that was going to have to be enough. "Teach me."

Her eyes widened, but she quickly clamped down on her surprise and assumed a neutral expression. "You don't need me to."

A hint of frustration crept over him at her stubbornness, but he suppressed it. He'd done well to get her to accompany him to the park – being anything but calm at this point would likely send her packing. And, though he knew that distancing himself from her was the smarter move for his op, he'd already jumped into her life with two feet and backing out now would likely prove more damaging for her than anything. "I can do a lot of things, McNally, but shooting hoops isn't something I can do well."

"You're in the middle of a… job. I hardly think learning to shoot hoops is high up on your list of priorities."

No, but you are... apparently. Except, that's not what he said. "So you're not gonna help me?" He bit back a smirk as a thought occurred to him. It was absurd, but she seemed a little odd as well, so he decided to throw her a curveball and see how she'd respond. "What if I find myself in a death match against my mark?" There was a small pause before he added, "If you don't teach me, I'm as good as dead." Without another word, he pushed the ball into her body, nudging her with it until she let out a frustrated sigh and snatched it away from him.

Andy wasn't sure whether to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, frown at the fact that he seemed to think his ridiculous scenario would convince her to help, or glare at him for believing with an air of confidence that it actually would. "That's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard," she replied, a mix of emotions running through her as she moved the ball around in her hands. It had been years since she'd touched one, but it still felt oddly familiar. The cool rubber exterior. The almost grainy feel. Her thumb moved along the smooth black lines before shifting the ball from one hand to the other, testing its weight and reacquainting herself with the overall feel.

His lips curled upward upon seeing what looked like silent acceptance pass over her features. "And yet, you're gonna help me."

"Then I guess that makes me one of the dumbest people you've ever met."

A small laugh escaped him. "One of the dumbest? No." He shook his head. "Dumb, McNally, is when a seventeen year old kid walks into a bank, tries to rob it, and when the teller tries to put up a fight, the kid points the gun at the woman, squeezes the trigger a little by accident and water comes out." Sam paused. "The idiot thought that nobody saw, so he tried to keep up the act, but when he finally realized things weren't in his favour, he took off with an elderly woman's purse. Two steps out the door though and he was pulling off his mask. And, just four blocks away, he was taking a selfie to show off his prize. Posted it on social media just seconds later." Sam chuckled. "The kid was sitting in a booth at one of the most recognizable sit-down restaurants in the city. Hadn't even gotten his burger yet when we were slapping the cuffs on him." He held out his hand, palm facing up.

Frowning, she handed the basketball back to him and watched as he tossed it toward the net. It hit the backboard and came bouncing back, each smack of the ball against the pavement cutting through the otherwise quiet park. She pressed her lips together in an effort to bite back a comment, all the while struggling to suppress a grimace upon seeing his technique… if it could even be called that. Whatever it was, it was sloppy. He pretty much had zero form.

"So… teach," Sam said as he retrieved the ball. "Or do you want to see how many times I can miss in a row? I mean, that was actually pretty good for me."

With a resigned sigh, she accepted the ball and drew in a deep breath. She hadn't played since high school… hadn't wanted to. It reminded her of her old life. Of what had happened. But, with the ball firmly gripped in her hands, she felt something stir deep inside of her. "I met J.J at one of my basketball tournaments." She let the ball fall, her hand pushing down on it with enough force that it bounced back up to her. "He practically owned the football field, but when it came to basketball… he sucked. Big time. Worse than you." She bounced the ball again, cast him a sideways glance, then threw the ball toward the net.

Thud.

The ball hit the backboard and shot off to the side, leaving Andy standing there, defeated. "I missed," she whispered, her heart sinking. It was her sweet spot. She never missed – not since she'd first started learning how to play the game – until now.

Sam retrieved the ball and handed it back to her once she'd had a few moments to compose herself. "Try again." His tone was encouraging.

She hesitated, then tried to make the shot again.

Miss.

The sinking feeling grew.

When Sam held the ball toward her yet again, she shook her head. "I can't."

"It's like riding a bike, McNally. You haven't forgotten how. Your body – your muscles – they remember. It's just up here that needs a little work," Sam said, tapping his temple with his forefinger.

"Fine. Once more, but that's it." She took the ball from him, frustration building inside of her.

Sam reluctantly nodded. "Fine, but on one condition."

She quirked an eyebrow questioningly. One condition? What, I need to sink it? I wish.

"You close your eyes."

"What?" Stunned, she stood gaping at him, sure that she hadn't heard correctly. Shoot with my eyes closed? What kind of request is that? I'll definitely miss.

Before even suggesting it, he'd known she wouldn't particularly like the idea, especially given that she wasn't surrounded by walls and a high-quality lock… or five. But, his gut also told him that if he could really get her to focus, then she could do it. And, if she was blind – in a manner of speaking – then her other senses might be heightened. She might be more aware. Taking a couple of steps back, he said, "Close your eyes and shoot." He paused. "If you want, I'll close mine too."

She shook her head, and before she could stop herself, "Don't," tumbled out of her mouth. A blush crept into her cheeks. It wasn't that she wanted him to watch her, but at least if his eyes were open then he could be her set of eyes in case someone entered the park.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Don't what?"

"Close them… don't, umm, don't close them. Please." Her blush deepened. She couldn't even look at him anymore, half expecting him to laugh. But, he didn't.

Surprised that she was more concerned about him keeping his own eyes open than about the task itself, he merely nodded. Then, realizing that she wasn't looking at him, he added, "Sure."

"And you'll, umm… you'll tell me if you see someone?"

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"And umm…"

He took another step back to try to ease some of her obvious discomfort. "And I'll stay right here."

Andy drew in a shaky breath and nodded, her heart thumping madly in her chest. She had absolutely no clue why he wanted her to do it, or why she was even agreeing. But, she did, and after another hesitant moment, she squared her body with the net and closed her eyes.

"Take your time," Sam said quietly, silently willing her to make the shot. If she didn't, he didn't exactly have a Plan B. So, she had to make it. He figured she could, otherwise he wouldn't have even suggested doing it. Still, he couldn't help but feel nervous as he watched her.

She bounced the ball. Once, then twice, feeling the reverberations… hearing the sound of the impact and sensing the return of the ball before it touched her skin. As nerves started to crash over her, she reached for the basketball with her other hand and moved to shoot.

"Not yet." His voice, though soft, cut through the otherwise quiet park.

Andy froze, ball raised in the air. "Why not?" She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

"Because you aren't ready," he replied with a pointed look. "Now, close them."

Again, she hesitated, but found herself obeying. Not ready? What if I'm never ready?

"McNally, get out of your head."

"I'm not—" she started to argue, her body stiffening.

"Just focus on your breathing."

She drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, repeating the process several times until her breathing evened out.

"Good. Now visualize. Picture the net and the ball, and focus on what you want to happen," he said. He had no clue if this was going to work, but based on her body language, something in her was slowly changing.

Despite feeling ridiculous, Andy did as she was told, imagining the ball going through the hoop with a swish.

Spotting movement in the distance, Sam hesitated. She was almost ready – he was sure of it – but he had promised to let her know… "We're not alone," he said with some reluctance. Sensing her panic, he added, "Keep your eyes closed and focus."

Her heart rate skyrocketed and her mind reeled. How many people? Who? How far away?

"Focus, McNally," Sam said, his voice a little more commanding. Then in a softer tone, "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." A small and unexpected sense of calm seemed to wash over her, but it was abundantly clear that it would take very little to set her panic off again. "Shoot… now."

She blindly tossed the ball, eyelids cracking open in time to see the ball pass through the hoop. A shaky breath escaped her, but before her mind could even celebrate her small victory, her head was swiveling left and right, her eyes frantically searching for whomever Sam had seen.

"They're gone," he said in response to her unspoken question.

Her eyes settled back on him, confused by the odd expression on his face. "What?"

"Why did you shoot?"

Eyebrows knit together, she said, "You told me to."

He bit back a laugh. "Do you do everything you're told to?"

Her frown deepened. "No."

"So then, why did you shoot?" Sam pressed. "Why didn't you open your eyes when I told you that we weren't alone?"

"I…" Andy fell silent. He'd told her to shoot and to keep her eyes closed. But, had she done both simply because he'd told her to?

"Do you trust me?"

Andy gnawed on her lower lip. It was a question that she'd struggled with on more than one occasion. "I… I don't really know you." It was honest, perhaps brutally so, but it was the only answer she could think of that wouldn't actually force her to say yes or no.

"But you still listened to me. You believed me when I said that I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

She shifted uncomfortably. Why didn't I open my eyes? I wanted to. I was scared.

He gave her a small smile in an attempt to ease her discomfort. "Just think about it, McNally. You don't know if you can trust me, but you did anyway. Why?"

As her eyebrows furrowed again, her eyes slowly trailed up to meet his. "I… I don't know."

"Yes, you do." His voice was gentle, yet it was clear that he wasn't going to back down.

I told him that I don't know, so why won't he let this go? She opened her mouth to assure him that she didn't have an answer, but stopped before the first syllable could be uttered. I might not know if I can really trust him, but I did. In that moment, I took his word and put my safety in his hands. And, I did it because… "My gut," Andy finally said, searching his face for a reaction.

Sam's smile widened a little, silently letting her know that he agreed. "What do you think of your partners at work? Are they good cops?"

She stared at him, puzzled, then nodded.

"Do you doubt that they'll have your back?" Sam pressed.

"No." Her voice was quiet as her eyes shifted downward.

He stared her for a moment, contemplating his next words. "So, you might not trust your partners on a personal level, but you trust them to have your back? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes, but…" Andy began, but trailed off. She really didn't see the point to all of this.

"But you only mess up when you're partnered with other people… when you aren't with James?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"So even though you might not enjoy being around strangers, it really has very little or nothing to do with the perps? It has to do more with who you're partnered with…?"

Andy hesitated. "I suppose…"

"You're not a rookie anymore, McNally. You've been around those people for quite awhile now. You know them." When she opened her mouth to argue, he cut in again. "You do. You're observant and you're smart. Whether you talk to them or not, you know what kind of people they are… And, you admitted that you think they'll have your back…"

"So…?"

"So, you told me that you don't really know me," he reminded her. "And you don't."

"But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," Sam said, hoping he was right. "You kissed me in an alley…"

Her cheeks warmed and a deep blush settled in her cheeks. "I didn't mean…"

He held up a hand to silence her, biting back a smirk all the while. "…You did it because you listened to your gut. Just like when you gave me your notebook. And, tonight... it's dark. We're in a park. Practically alone. And you don't really know me." He paused for a moment, searching her face and body language for any signs of additional discomfort. Seeing that his words did little to set her off, he continued. "Everything about the situation should have you panicking, right?"

She remained silent, but internally agreed.

"Having another unknown person enter the park should have set you off. But, you kept your eyes closed and you listened to your gut. You were focused. You did what you needed to do, and you were successful."

Andy sighed. "So, what is the point—?"

"You said that James helped you through the Academy, but to do that, he would've had to push you. He would've had to believe in you… that you could be a cop. And, not just the kind that wears the badge, but the kind that actually makes a difference." He paused. "Just a few minutes ago, I pushed you to shoot the ball again. I knew you could do it, even if you didn't."

Silence. Is there a point somewhere in here?

"But you think that other cops doubt your ability to do the job, and that affects your performance because then you start to doubt your own abilities."

"That's not—"

"When you're with them, you become the cop they think you are, not the one you actually are," Sam continued. "Because you aren't focused and you aren't trusting your gut. Takeaway the doubt though, and when have you ever failed?"

Andy remained silent for a long moment, her mind replaying his words. Could he possibly be right? I mean, if I trust them to have my back, why else would I really only screw up with them around? Is it because their doubt transfers onto me? That I lose confidence and I become incapable of controlling my fear? But then, why did I panic after taking down Paul Langley? Sam was there and he seems to think I'm capable. She frowned. The domestic… it hit too close to home. Reminded me of what I went through with Jimmy and J.J. Deciding she needed more time to think things over before giving any kind of verbal response, she abruptly changed the topic. "You know, the only way you're gonna learn and get better is if you actually shoot."

For a moment he considered changing the conversation back, but he could tell that something he'd said was resonating with her, so he decided to let it go. "I'm a visual learner, McNally," he finally said, not even caring whether or not it was true. He handed the ball back to her.

She shot. Swoosh.

He retrieved it and handed it back to her, a small smile on his lips.

"You're seriously not going to shoot?" she asked, eyebrow quirked.

"I'm studying your technique," he replied. Again, it was only a half-truth. He was studying her technique, but he was more interested in seeing the overall shift in her. Because, every time she shot the ball, he noticed a small change in her demeanour… as if seeing the basketball pass through the hoop instilled confidence in her. So, he kept retrieving the ball and handing it to her.

They both lost track of the number of shots she made – Andy, as she lost herself in her own thoughts, mulling over what Sam had told her before, and Sam, as he continued to observe her.

He was so absorbed in studying her that she completely caught him off guard when she suddenly thrust the ball back into his chest.

"Your turn."

"What?" he said before he could stop himself. His eyes shifted from her lips, which he could've sworn had almost twitched into a ghost of a smile just seconds earlier, to her eyes.

"Shoot," she said, gesturing to the basketball net.

He hesitated.

Andy folded her hands across her chest. "You've been staring at me long enough that I think your technique should be up to snuff."

It took a lot of effort to keep his jaw from dropping. Sure, he'd been staring, but he'd been studying her. His intentions were oddly pure. He just had no idea if she knew that or not. He thought she looked too at ease for her to actually think that he was flirting with her or eyeing her in a less than friendly way, but still… "I… I wasn't…" Though her lips didn't move, he could almost see a sparkle in her eye. Is she laughing at me?

"Of course not," she said.

He continued to stare at her, unsure of how to take her comment. Was she being sarcastic? Teasing?

"So are you gonna shoot or do I have to make you close your eyes so that you can focus too?"

For the first time in his life, Sam felt a rush of heat in his face. He was sure that his cheeks hadn't flooded with colour, but he could feel the change in temperature all the same. She was definitely taking a go at him. The thought suddenly had a rather loud laugh escaping him. And while part of him wanted to clarify things, the other part had a distinct feeling that she already knew what he meant and that she was bugging him anyway. So, instead of clarifying and, thereby, playing right into her hands, he simply shot her a grin and turned toward the net, biting back the perhaps less-than-appropriate retort that was on his lips.

---

The present…

"It's good to have you back, brother," Oliver said with a small smile in Sam's direction.

Sliding a pair of aviators on his face, Sam gave his friend a sideways glance and replied, "It's good to be back… in my own bed. Surrounded by familiar faces… even your ugly mug."

"Ha. Real funny, Sammy," Oliver said, giving the other man a small shove.

Sam smirked.

"So you went and saw Sarah, eh?"

"Yup," Sam said, his eyes scanning the streets as they drove through the city.

"How is she? How's Cooper?" Oliver pressed.

Sam hesitated. "Good. She's seeing someone…"

Oliver studied his friend for a moment before his eyes slid back to the road. "And yet you don't seem surprised or concerned." He paused. "How's the McNally girl?"

"How should I know?" Sam said with a small shrug.

"Well, you seemed to have trouble staying away from her while you were undercover…"

Heading snapping in Oliver's direction, Sam said, "I ran into her once…" He hesitated. "Well, maybe a couple of times." Liar. It was more than a couple of times.

"Was that all?" Oliver's voice sounded innocent, but the expression on his face didn't even try to hide his disbelief.

"How's Zoe?"

"She's fine. How's McNally?" Oliver tried again.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh. "I told you that I don't know." And, really, he didn't. He hadn't seen her in a couple of months. He walked by her apartment and based on the light inside, he suspected she was okay, but the op had kept him unusually busy and he'd been unable to check up on her the way he had before.

"Hmmm."

To Sam's relief, Oliver's next questions were cut off by the crackling of the radio.

"1509 to 45 Overlea Boulevard. We have a potential robbery and hostage situation at the Scotiabank. A car from 27 is on route for backup," dispatch said.

Pressing the button on the radio, Oliver said, "1509, we're on it." He then turned to his partner. "First shift back from U.C and it doesn't look like it's going to be a quiet one."

Sam hit the switch for the lights, then leaned back in the passenger seat and groaned. Sure, it meant a reprieve from his friend's questions, but he'd been hoping for some minor calls, not this.

Oliver smiled slightly. "Just like old times eh buddy? Just you and me, and I guess some excuse for coppers from 27."

Sam smirked. "Could be worse." Seeing his friend quirk an eyebrow, he added, "At least we're not stuck on the DVP at rush hour."

---

"Ready?" James asked as they pulled up to the bank.

Andy inhaled deeply and nodded. "Ready," she breathed, some of her nerves settling when he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

He shot a smile in her direction. "Then let's go."

"What about backup?" Andy asked as they got out of the squad car.

James scanned the area, then shook his head. "We don't know what's happening inside…"

Bang.

Their heads snapped toward the front entrance. "Shots fired at 45 Overlea Boulevard," James said into his radio. "I repeat, shots fired. We're going in."

"Backup is two minutes out, 2720," dispatch replied.

James cast a glance at Andy. "We don't have time to wait," he said quietly.

"I know." Her heart was thumping madly in her chest and an uneasy feeling was making its way into her stomach. Still, she knew James was right. They didn't have time to wait for backup; they had to act now.

"You ready?"

She gnawed down on her lower lip, then nodded slowly. They had a job to do. "I'm ready," she breathed.

"Then let's go," James said as he started toward the door, gun drawn.

She was right on his heel, her own gun out.

---

"Looks like they beat us," Oliver said, tilting his head and giving a small jerk in the direction of the squad car from 27 Division.

Sam remained silent, his attention turning from the numbers on the other car to the radio at his hip. A wave of dread crashed over him, causing a knot to form in the pit of his stomach.

"Hey, you okay?" Oliver asked, watching his friend fumble with the dial on his radio.

It wasn't until Sam had found the right frequency that he finally responded. "Bad feeling."

The car rolled to a stop and they got out.

"We're all going home today, buddy," Oliver said as they drew their weapons and cautiously approached the bank.

Though he nodded, Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. I've just been undercover for too long, that's all, he thought. It's gonna take some time to adjust to being back on the streets.

The sound of a gunshot dispelled the thought.

"This is 2720, shots fi—" The voice crackled through the radio before the voice cut out and silence ensued.

Sam's steps faltered, his eyes widening. "Oliver," he breathed, a surge of fear shooting through him. He knew that voice. Knew, without a doubt, that it was her. His body shot forward, his pace quickening.

"Sam," Oliver called out.

He knew he should heed his friend's warning, but his ability to think rationally had vapourized the second he'd heard Andy's voice. The need to protect her, to make sure she was okay, overwhelmed him. So did his fear.

Voices sounded from within. Loud and angry.

And then he saw her. Gun drawn. Shoulders squared. Facial expression determined, though failing miserably to hide her fear.

Even from a distance, the look in her eyes had his gut twisting. His step faltered again, this time bringing him to a standstill just outside of the perp's view. Oliver stopped behind him.

"Put the gun down," James said. "Just put it down and we'll talk, okay?"

A strangled laugh filled the room. "I'm done talking." The perp turned to the woman behind the counter. "Thirty seconds. If that bag isn't full by then, your friend dies."

"Sir, just calm down," James tried again. "Nobody needs to get hurt. You want the money? Let me get it for you."

Sam silently swore as the perp's gun swung in James' direction.

"Stay back," the perp screamed.

His eyes swept across the room, doing a quick count of heads and assessment of the scene. And it was only then that Sam realized his initial assumption wasn't right. There wasn't just one perp. If Andy's stance was anything to go off of, then there had to be at least one more. Why else would she be facing away?

With his free hand, he signaled to Oliver, holding up two fingers.

"Sammy," Oliver whispered. "She's trained for this…"

Trained, but exposed, he thought, feeling his heart rate skyrocket. James and Andy were both out in the open with no means of shielding or protecting themselves.

A hand on his shoulder had his eyes momentarily diverting to his partner.

"Don't do anything stupid…"

Teeth ground together, Sam's gaze shifted back to the scene. Even with moving slightly, he couldn't see the second perp, and his view of the first one was limited. There was no way he could even remotely get a decent shot. So, he inched forward.

The tension became more palpable, and a sense of heightened desperation marked every inflection, every word that cut through the small bank. And that's when he saw the second guy – one hand pointing a gun at Andy, while the other held a hostage roughly in front of him.

"We're all going home today." Oliver's words echoed in his head, becoming his mantra despite the doubt tugging at the back of his mind. Only a miracle would see them all walking out of the building alive – he didn't see how it could be otherwise. But, he had to believe it. He had to believe that she would be okay. That they would all be okay. That Oliver would go back home to Zoe and his girls. That Andy…

Movement from a civilian snapped Sam out of it. Sit down, buddy. His eyes darted up to the perps. Please don't see the guy. Just ignore him. Don't react.

More movement.

The familiar click of a gun.

And then everything went to hell.

"No," he yelled, launching his body forward.

Bang. Bang.

---

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