AN: I know I said it wouldn't be a quick update, but then this happened. (A sleepless night will do that for you!) The next one may not be sooooo quick...but the next few are sketched at least, so you never know.
Thanks again for your support and reviews!
Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue (or anything at all to do with The Church).
It takes hours.
Hours and hours and hours.
So many hours, Sam is close to driven insane.
….
It takes an eternity to drive back to 15.
Nash pops at some gum as they get stuck in traffic, chewing hard every so often as she peers into the rear-view mirror – keeping her eyes on Anton Hill. Once in a while she glances sideways at Sam.
None of them say a single freaking word; not at all.
Sam chatters his teeth as he takes a peep at his watch. (Not that the time means anything in itself). He's given up on gum; having accidentally swallowed the last two pieces that Nash gave him. For what it's worth, he's got his eyes fixed on the side mirror; right now he could care less about Hill.
They lost site of the Shepstein cruiser some time ago. Sam wonders now whether they are even going to bother keeping up the act by taking McNally to 15, or whether they'll go direct to Taskforce HQ.
Sam considers radioing to Shaw, but obviously doesn't want to give the game away, given who he and Nash have got listening in. He eventually decides on chancing his somethings anyway –
"Anyone call in any 10 fifty's on Parliament," Sam radios out casually. "1505. You guys got anything we need to know about?"
"10 four, buddy," Ollie reports back cheerily. "All clear here," and obviously because he doesn't want to put Sam through any more yanking of chains: "We're around Jarvis though, grabbing some hotdogs to go."
Sam and Nash roll their eyes in unison.
So.
Sounds like Sam won't be seeing McNally at 15 any moment soon.
He puts through one final message to Ollie, on a wing and a prayer that Andy's definitely listening in:
"Grab some icecreams while you're at it; I'll give you some cash later – consider it my shout".
It's Epstein's voice he hears in response. A woot and; "You're the best, Swarek. The best."
….
It takes forever in booking.
Diaz and Cruz all thingy that they weren't there for the bust.
That -
And the seemingly simultaneous crime wave that was hitting the rest of the division while it was on; a dozen or so teenagers busting out with some pranks.
Sometime during all the waiting Sam fires off a text to Shaw – everyone okay over there?
He gets the response just moments later: icecreams went down a treat, probably gonna need it – sounds like she'll be in for a long night.
Seconds after that Sam gets another one: But Epstein and I will see you soon and pass on a kiss x
Sam lets out a surprised cough.
Eventually, Nash rolls on up to Diaz, her eyebrows raised high; "You still want me to feed you tips on the finer points of child development?" She asks in the most serious of her interrogative tones, but Sam also notices the question mark is rounded out with a grin and a flutter of her eyes.
Sam feels a kind of awkward flush swoop through his stomach at considering whether Nash is ready to move on. It's not that Sam doesn't want her to be happy; god he really, really does. It's just….
Like some sort of final evidence of the fact that Jerry is gone.
He eyes Diaz, considering – then turns and catches Cruz watching Sam back.
Sam quirks an eyebrow at her and clears his throat, gets some no-nonsense in his voice as he thinks about other places he could be waiting for things to go down:
"Yeah, let's move along here."
…
It takes the longest interview in history that Sam's ever seen.
They have to be careful with it, Sam knows they do; all these crossovers and linkages that may play a part in the wrap up of Project Dakota. Callaghan will have their backsides if they screw this up. He's pretty sure there's enough on tape to lay current charges, but Sam wants more than that -
Nash plays good cop, sits their politely with her warmest face shining at Hill while Sam flicks the evidence – bit by bit –right in Anton's face. When he's had enough of Hill's lawyer huffing and puffing about things he can't ask, and when he's over the stare that Anton's been giving for three hours straight, Sam excuses himself and smiles at Nash. "Just popping out to get us some coffee and donuts, be right back," he says to her, five types of faux happy to be here all night.
He practically sprints down the corridors to get the donuts though, gets back to the observation room in time to see Hill answering a few questions from Nash.
(Sam had a feeling Hill wouldn't be doing a whole lot of talking to him; if nothing else, just to keep testing Sam's nerve.
But. Quite frankly, Anton Hill is not where Sam's nerves are right now; with McNally just a heartbeat away he's had to work overtime to stay focused on delivering the interrogation in exactly the right way).
A few minutes of standing there - mentally cheering Nash on from the sidelines, Frank walks in. The boss pats him on the back - more a show of support than congratulations or that type of thing.
Sam gives a quick smile to the boss, says quietly but clearly: "Thanks. For everything."
Frank nods. "Home stretch now Sammy, bring it on in."
….
By the time Nash and Sam finish with Hill - they have obtained enough of everything including a couple of key confessions to put him away for a long time – the station is practically bare.
They sit in the D's office for a while; Nash rolling her neck, Sam rubbing at his temples before he hears his phone ding.
He reaches into his pocket with a faint pang of hope that it's a message from Andy.
(He'd have texted her…something…before...he doesn't know what….but until this moment, was more than sure she would still be in a debriefing with Callaghan; assumed she'd have to make it home in the first place to even be in possession of her own phone).
He's disappointed, but not surprised then that the message is from Shaw:
Are you guys done yet? I'll let you off the hook for the icecreams but you owe me a beer.
Sam hears a couple of chirps out of Nash's phone too.
She groans a little, then laughs.
"Penny. Now. Celebrate." She snorts, mimicking Gail.
Sam shrugs, wondering what the problem is: "We could probably do with a little of that…?"
"I feel like I haven't seen Leo in for years," Nash lets out with a couple of long breaths.
Sam twitches a sympathetic smile to her. "Well. No doubt the wonder twins can keep Peck mildly amused until Collins gets back."
Nash opens her eyes and mouth wide, lets out a loud ha! and waggles her eyebrows at Sam.
"Mind out of the gutter," Sam smirks back.
"Anyways," Nash offers up – motioning to the door, "I think Collins might need to work overtime to revive the lovin' there."
Sam shrugs his shoulders again, tries to brush away dark thoughts that maybe something happened between Collins and Andy in the last 6 months.
When they get to her car, Sam waves Nash off – tells her they'll catch up to celebrate themselves in the next couple of days.
Sam blows out a foggy breath as he looks around the relatively dark and empty parking lot. He ambles slowly toward his truck, debating with himself whether he's too tired for a beer. He clicks at his keys from the usual distance out, does a double take when the alarm signals that it's already unlocked.
He looks over at it finally, notices the interior softly illuminated -
Sees Andy sitting in there.
He stands frozen in his spot for a good minute or so, just staring; even shakes his head a few times to make sure he's not hallucinating.
He tries desperately not to smile when he sees the window wind down. She holds up the keys, rattling. "I figured when you sent them, you wouldn't mind if I used them again," she's got a smile on her face as she says it but Sam thinks she looks battle-weary...and something else. "Besides. Thought it might be about time to return this," Andy says, holding aloft the tattered copy of To Kill a Mockingbird that he'd sent via Jones all that time ago, along with the keys.
"Nah," Sam chokes out. "Happy for you to keep both," he continues on with a slightly louder voice from where he's standing - doing everything he can not to grin like a fool.
Finally he edges his way closer, probably in too much shock to break into a run. Not to mention the fact his feet feel like they're in concrete; six months of waiting for this moment that at least half of the time he never thought would come.
After forever he reaches the passenger side door, pops it open and gets a good look at her once and for all. He opens his mouth to say something, but it breaks into a smile. He stops himself again, his brain whirling around with the probability that she's just going to end things here and now; put him out of his misery and tell him how she's moved on with her life.
"You're back," he says so softly he barely hears it himself. He assumes Callaghan or a cab dropped her here, but god knows when; "You been waiting long?"
Andy grins a little back at him. (Up until now she'd had this look on her face like she thought he might shout). "Long enough," she says simply – looks into his eyes a little harder, like she's trying to get a read of his face.
Sam gives her a soft smile, nods his head.
"I, um. I wondered if you…," Andy starts, clearing her throat. She pushes some hair behind her ear and finishes with a tired and croaky, "might still want to buy me that drink?"
Sam just stands there, staring at her – closely inspecting her watery eyes and oily hair. He licks his lips a little, wants to tell her everything in this moment – but knows it…he…she…will need much more than that. "Is that – is that what you want?" Sam asks real careful. "If you're tired I could just take you home…"
"One drink," she murmurs. "…..Then take me home?" It comes out as a question from her now, this cautious game of chess they've got going on, making Sam bite at his lip.
Sam nods in fits and starts, moving around to the drivers' side. He gets his seatbelt on before he looks at her again. "Congratulations on the op, sounds like you were…awesome," he says, looking her straight in the eye.
She looks a little shocked and confused when he says it, eventually stutters out a "thanks".
By the expression on her face, Sam's wondering here if she's worried he's furious she was on it at all; thinks to himself not for the first time god, have I been that much of a douche.
Anything else Sam wants to say about her achievement gets stuck internally, though. He figures he'll just have to start talking properly when he gets some more liquid to loosen his throat. He'd touch her cheek in the meantime in an effort to show her how sorry he still is about ….everything in those last couple of months…. but he's too damn scared.
Finally, he snaps himself out of it; shoves the key in the ignition -
He throws the truck into gear and drives them to The Penny; barely holds himself together with the silence and her watching his face all the way.
(It's odd, having her right beside him without chewing off his ear. He wonders again if he'll be faced with the same Andy….comes to terms with the fact that may not be the case; after all, 6 months of stuff and he's not quite the same Sam).
"Can't believe you let Ollie catch you," Sam says cutting through the silence just as they park.
She lets out a whiplash laugh that's big and almost familiar, "meh. Figured he could use a break."
Sam lets himself smile back on full throttle; shakes his head a little and agrees; "ain't that the truth."
….
When he opens the door to The Penny for her, a wave of whoops and hollers float on out.
Within minutes she's engulfed by the Rookies and Sam is convinced, three quarters of Division 15.
He smiles at her as she turns back to him; leans himself into the cluster with some help from Diaz and Epstein - enough to whisper in her ear "let them celebrate your achievements, I'll go get you that drink".
He takes a punt on what she might want, figures to heck with it and orders the best scotch off the shelf.
He looks around the bar. Between all the noise - he spots Peck and Collins over in the corner; Gail with her arms and eyebrows crossed. He scans the room further and assumes then that Shaw has already left.
Initially, Sam's going to make his way back over to McNally – pass over the drink so she can spend some time with her friends. But as he turns, he feels her presence; right smack bang behind him with only a ghost of some space between them.
"I…you…" Sam stumbles out, running through his brain; deleting some of his more idiotic lines. He holds the glass out to her instead, clinks it with his own as he looks in her eyes "good to have you back." And it's not enough – even to his own ears. He's regretting like gangbusters that he didn't take Peck and Nash up on their offer last week to role-play some possible starts.
He trips over himself pulling a stool out for her, feels the tiniest bit better when she smiles with her teeth and looks just a little more relaxed. Sam decides maybe the now is the best place to start -
Over the next day, weeks, months, (years and years), they can work through everything else.
"You wanna talk about how you kicked some ass today?" Sam asks, then shakes his head; figures that doesn't sound quite right. "How you've been kicking it for the last 6 months?"
McNally takes a swig of her drink, throws her head back just enough to have Sam looking at the stretch of her neck – be mesmerised as she swallows warm liquid all the way down. She's got her eyes closed as she does it, opens them only when she straightens her back – shifts herself to turn further in the direction of Sam. "Today," she says as she smiles small eventually – like she's read his mind. She looks into Sam's eyes, gets her volume just over all the background noise; "today's a good place to start."
Sam hears the slightest stutter as she says it, he figures he was right in thinking beyond today is just too much.
...
They sit there for a good hour; like they're in their own little world. Andy's got the barest tip of the jean on her knee touched on his thigh. It's nothing really – except it is...the heat emanating from her is like a current through him with the momentum of a tidal wave.
...
He's bought her a couple of other drinks while she's been relaying the story; her telling of how today has only been the fourth time in the op when she's been ridiculously afraid. A lot of what she says Sam can relate to; that big lead-up in such a short time and the overwhelming thrill of the bust. "A couple of moments today Sam...when they were in that room...Barlow's hench looking at me like I was some piece of meat...I didn't think I'd hold it together..." she's rambles, rabbit fast between the times she slows right down. "But I did, Sam. I did," she says pleased, popping a chip in her mouth.
(He offered to get her food before they walked in the door, but she shook her head at him explaining Callaghan had kept them fuelled up with take-out Chinese).
"You always do," he says with a smile – can't help himself but put his hand on the back of her shoulder and rub; pulls it off like a hot iron when he feels her nerves twitch.
...
Epstein plants himself between them at one point and asks Andy if she's coming back to work straight away.
Sam takes the opportunity to hitch a thumb over his shoulder; "I just got to use the bathroom. Be right back."
He splashes his face with cool water when he gets inside, looks in the mirror and reminds himself: one moment at a time.
...
When he eventually does swing the door open to get back out there, Andy's leaning against the wall opposite. His brain jogs around in a circle querying whether she's waiting for him, or –
Oomph.
He didn't have to spend too much time thinking about what she might be doing there; she's got him pushed up against the wall with her skinny, muscly body pinning him in. Her hot mouth was on his even before he had the chance to express an oof of surprise. The way she's climbing him is spurring on flashbacks of blackouts, redux first kisses and that type of thing...
Sam can't help but get his hands on her though; he wraps one around at the edge of her waist, and the other near her chin.
It's the way she's kissing that's got him worried; hard and desperate but slightly disconnected, pushing at all of the buttons she thinks might make her...reconnect. Yeah –
Sam understands that feeling too; the feeling of uncertainty of what's real or not anymore. An attempt to find something familiar before the adrenalin is gone.
More than anything he wants to kiss her back – properly; check her body over slowly and carefully for any damage that might have been done. But, he also knows that this isn't how they need to start again; knows there's a lot of forgiving and learning and talking and listening that needs to be done.
"Andy, Andy, Andy," Sam breaks from her, pushing at her hip gently so she's back on solid ground. "Wait, wait, wait," he whispers hoarsely to her, still holding her face.
"Sorry..." she cuts him off, fingers twitching on his chest. "Sam, shit... sorry, I..." she starts shaking her head – looks straight at him like she's done something wrong.
Sam hears footsteps behind them, instinctively moves his body to conceal McNally some more. He just wants – really wants – for her to be able to ease her way back into whatever life she wants back here without a thousand pairs of eyes on her like she's a damn guineapig.
"Hey Sam," comes from whose ever footsteps they were. He's pretty sure it's the voice of Cruz, even though he's never heard her tipsy before. He doesn't bother acknowledging her, lets the door to the ladies room creak open and close before he puts a hand gently back on McNally's face.
"Andy," Sam whispers so, so quiet to her. "Andy. Sweetheart. S'okay. I get it," bumps his nose to hers and lets it still there until he feels her breathing calm down. "I really, really do."
She pulls back from him a little and licks at her lips; puts her fingers on his chin and rubs away some gloss she maybe left there. Her back thuds against the wall, her head following that.
Sam thinks again about how worn out she looks, how dead exhausted she must be. (She's been running on pure adrenalin – fuelled by the alcohol this past hour or so - is the other problem with all of this).
Andy reaches a hand out to him eventually.
Sam takes it and wraps it in his; tugs. "Let me take you home," he says letting his voice go warm and liquid soft.
...
She falls asleep in the truck on the drive; Sam wishing he had a pillow to prop under her head.
As it is, she's mashed up against the window, all her hair in her face. He can't stop himself from smiling every thirty seconds; between more anxious thoughts of how surreal this situation is.
A couple of blocks from her condo when Sam's stopped at a red, she pops her head up – sits boltright all of a sudden like she's remembered her father's birthday again. "You weren't in uniform today," she declares abruptly – just the other side of an accusing tone.
Sam has to bite his tongue until it's blue to stop his reflex response: dreaming of me out of uniform over there, McNally?
He takes some time to swallow, gives a more considered response instead; "Decided I needed to make some changes. Made Detective a few months back."
"Oh my god, Sam. That's..." McNally shakes her pretty head, the way she does it reminds him of Boo. "Wow...congratulations..." She looks like she's trying to articulate some questions; form the right words – but there's not quite even the energy for that.
So, because he finally decides that a little joking might not be too unproductive right now, he sticks his tongue in his cheek and grins. "'Cause you weren't around...Figured I'd get in your best friends face and give her a hard time."
Andy lets her hand fly out to give him a playful whack on the shoulder; she giggles a little more and then falls back to sleep.
...
When he finally pulls up in her street, he has to sit there for a couple of minutes deciding what to do.
She's still out like a light.
He'd carry her without an issue –
But then again; thinks maybe that's not the best idea.
Sam settles eventually with moving around to the passenger side, opens the door and gently shakes her shoulder.
Andy looks up in a half a stupor; Sam grins in response to the way she's starting to look a little more like herself. She rubs at her eyes and lets out a yawn – near takes Sam out with the way her arm stretches into his space. "I'm home?" she asks through it, still open mouthed.
"You are," Sam confirms for her quietly, then looks up to the stars.
It's a beautiful night, Sam thinks. A beautiful night.
...
He walks her up to her door, watches on as she opens up and pokes her head in.
"Ugh," Andy groans, swiping a hand in front of her nose.
"The aroma of disused apartments," Sam states in sympathy. "I remember it well."
When Andy gets the light on, she turns to him with a bite of her lip. "Um," she comes out with nervously. "Thanks for the ride..."
"Anytime, Andy," Sam says simply, trying to calm her nerves by just looking into her eyes. He shoves his hands in his pockets. "You...uh...you gonna be okay here by yourself? You need anything?"
"No. I'm good. I'll crash straight away." Andy stumbles along still in her nervous pitch, cocking her head, "guess I need some rest before I start processing everything?" Her question comes out a mixture of things; an assurance to Sam that they'll talk again soon, but also looking to him for affirmation that sleep actually is the best tonic for whatever's going on with her now.
"Rest for a day ...or a month if you feel like it," Sam nods in support. "You got some time off?"
"Yeah. Yeah." She nods her head back. "Couple of weeks if I want it, but I think I'll just take one."
Sam smiles at her, can't help but roll his eyes just a smidgen. "We all want you back ASAP... just...take it easy, okay?"
She smiles back at him. They stand there just staring at one another for an absurdly long minute.
Then. He can't handle it anymore.
He takes a small step forward, wraps his arms around her and nestles her into an embrace. He puts his face into her hair and gets his mouth against her ear, speaks very softly as he holds her tight: "I missed you." And because he's finding it hard to let go he whispers: "So much."
Her own grip is monkey tight on him – clammy hands that rolled up his back to clutch at the back of his shoulders. She hides her face in his neck. Sam's pretty sure he feels a single trickle of a tear. "I missed you, too," she murmers into the most sensitive part of his skin - right near the pulse in that general zone.
...
They separate after a long sequence of slow steady breaths. He's not sure who pulled away first, but it might've been him.
He leans in and lets a kiss linger just off her lips, "'Night, Andy."
She comes the extra two millimetres to take it from him; pulls away shortly after and lets out a small sigh. "'Night."
He turns back one last time as he gets down a few of the steps. She's leaning against the doorjamb; following him with her eyes. She gives him a small wave as he catches her look.
He manages to croak out a simple "sleep well."
...
The drive home is long and quiet. Sam can't bring himself to think about anything right now, just spends the whole way wishing he was back there with her.
...
Boo's curled up on Sam's bed when he gets home.
"Sorry, buddy." Sam whispers, deciding to go and source an extra large bone or two as an apology in the morning. "Andy's back," Sam explains by way of excuse as he pets at the dogs head, smiles as he's met with a pair of soft brown eyes.
...
As he gets into bed, he notices the screen of his phone light up; spends the next half hour until he falls asleep reading Andy's message over and over again:
I really, really did.
