Thanks again for all of the support. Everyone on here has been so fantastic. It's definitely easier to keep the momentum going when you know people are actually reading what you're writing.

Sam woke up and squinted at the clock beside his bed. He groaned loudly when he realized it was almost noon. Picking up his phone, he saw a missed call from Andy and realized he must have been sleeping pretty heavily if the ringer didn't wake him up. He scrolled down to her number and hit Send, willing the sleep from his voice as he waited for her to pick up.

"Hi," she answered just after the second ring. "Everything okay?"

"It's fine," he sighed.

"Did you just wake up? You sound tired."

"Yeah. I didn't get back from dropping off Alex until after five a.m. I couldn't leave them until I was sure they'd be okay," he explained groggily.

"Was it bad?" she asked.

"A lot of yelling. And he's grounded until he's fifty-two. By the time I left, though, he was apologizing to Sarah and they seemed okay. I know it's hard to believe, but he actually is a good kid."

"I got that," Andy assured him immediately. "Seems like he's just having a hard time."

"He is. Being a teenager isn't easy under normal circumstances, and with Sarah working all the time and no Dad in the picture, it makes things even harder."

"He's got you," Andy pointed out.

"Yeah, he's got me. It's not the same, though."

"I know," she acknowledged, "but it's something. One day he'll realize how lucky he is."

"We can only hope," Sam agreed wryly. "So McNally, if you don't have plans for the afternoon, I was thinking you might want to help me salvage what's left of our day off . . . ."

"I can't," she said, sounding disappointed. "I'm dog-sitting for a friend of my Dad's. I'm actually heading over in a little while to go over some last-minute instructions and get settled in. But you could come over later, if you want."

"I can do that," he agreed readily, not unhappy about the opportunity to pull in a few more hours of sleep before he saw her.

"Whose place is this?" Sam asked later that evening as he scoped out the house where Andy was dog-sitting.

"A friend of my Dad's from over at 27. He and his wife retired a few years ago, and now they spend most of their time traveling."

"So you must dog-sit for them a lot," Sam commented as he moved slowly around the living room, inspecting several prints on one of the walls.

"This is actually the first time," she admitted. "I don't really know them that well. Their regular person fell through, so my Dad called and asked if I'd do it." She hesitated before adding, "Actually, in the interest of disclosure, I do kind of know their son. We went out on a couple of dates before I met Jeff."

"Anything serious?" He turned away from the artwork and caught her eye. He was mildly interested in anyone from her past but had to assume that the relationship hadn't meant very much or she'd still be with the guy.

"Nah. It never really went anywhere. The chemistry wasn't right, and to be honest, he was kind of boring," Andy conceded, wrinkling her nose. "He's a detective over at 27 like his Dad was."

"Do I know him?"

"Maybe," Andy responded with a shrug. "Luke Callaghan?"

Sam shook his head. "Guess we've never crossed paths. Do you ever bump into him?"

"Rarely," she said. "He got married last year. His wife's a detective, too. Her name's Jo. She's nice enough, but I've always gotten the feeling that she doesn't like me very much."

"Probably because you went out with her husband," Sam suggested with a smirk. "This is a pretty nice place, McNally. If you have to spend a week hanging out with someone's dog, I guess it could be worse."

"Yeah, it's not too bad," Andy reflected, looking around at all of the windows and shiny surfaces. "A little modern for my taste, though."

Sam's feet came to rest in front of the fireplace. A fire was already blazing, kicking out a warm glow into the room as the sun went down and the house cooled off. "What's all this?" he asked, motioning to a pile of pillows scattered around on a thick rug in front of the fire.

"I was reading," she informed him, pointing to a book laying face down on the rug, "and I got cold, so I started a fire. This place must be a nightmare in the winter with all the windows. I mean, it's only early fall and it's already pretty chilly in here."

"So you built a fire," he noted. "Impressive."

"Not exactly," she admitted sheepishly, walking over and flipping a switch on the wall beside the fireplace. The fire went out. She flipped it again and it flickered, flaring up again as quickly as it had disappeared. "Gas logs."

"Even better. No hauling in wood from the backyard. Where's the dog?"

"Polly," Andy offered up, moving toward the kitchen. "She's passed out on her mat. She's really sweet but kind of old. And unfortunately, not much of a watchdog . . . . She didn't even flinch when you rang the doorbell. Do you want to meet her?"

"Sure," he said easily, following Andy out of the room. In one corner of the kitchen, a large black lab was lying belly-up on an oversized plaid dog bed. "Are you sure she's alive?" he asked as he nudged the dog bed with his foot.

"I think so," Andy said, sounding unconcerned. When Sam looked at her skeptically, she laughed. "Yes, she's alive. She's just really old."

"Okay, McNally. If you're sure. I just hope this night doesn't end with the two of us strong-arming that dog into the back of my truck to rush her to the vet. So far, we don't have very good luck when it comes to finishing our dates," he pointed out.

"Well, I think our luck is going to change," she predicted as she walked over to him and slid her hands into his.

"You do?" he asked quietly. She was close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek. "You seem pretty confident about that."

"I am," Andy said with a knowing smile. "See, I was thinking we could watch a movie, maybe order some dinner and you know ..."

"What's 'you know?' That sounds interesting."

"It is," she assured him, drawing him in with her gaze just before her lips grazed lightly across his.

Sam let his hands glide up to her elbows as he pulled her against him and in so doing, he noticed goose bumps on her arms. He pulled back and tugged her behind him with their joined hands, leading her back toward the living room. "It's warmer in the other room," he offered by way of an explanation. Besides, he wanted to be comfortable and standing in a cold kitchen with a lethargic dog watching their every move wasn't exactly his idea of comfortable.

Bypassing the couch, Sam settled down in front of the fireplace instead. As he sank down into the plush thickness of the rug, he quickly decided that it wasn't so bad. He could understand why she'd been hanging out in front of the fire when he showed up.

When Sam attempted to pull her down with him and she didn't budge, he looked up at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

Andy laughed and dropped to her knees beside him. "It's just that I don't see you as the kind of guy who relaxes on a rug in front of a fire," she observed.

"Where do you see me relaxing then?" he challenged her.

"I don't know. A couch. Maybe some big, pimped-out man chair . . . ."

"A pimped-out man chair?" He drew back and narrowed his eyes at her. "Hey, I enjoy a well-built fire just as much as the next guy. Or, in this case, a fire that you turned on with a switch."

Sam leaned back on the pillows and propped himself up on an elbow. He drew her toward him by the hand, and she slid down onto her side with a gentle fluidity that had him longing to bring her even closer.

"Maybe we should skip the movie," she suggested as her eyes zeroed in on his mouth. The grin that she produced was equal parts encouraging and challenging.

"Maybe we should," Sam agreed in a barely-audible whisper. He brushed her hair back over her shoulder, slowly letting it sift through his fingers. With his other hand on her cheek, he lowered his head and kissed her softly, setting an intoxicatingly slow pace as he lost himself in the heady sensation of knowing that they finally had the freedom to act on their feelings. Slipping one hand beneath the hem of her shirt, he traced a smooth path from Andy's stomach to her upper back and pulled her up against him. Other than the crackling of the fire and an occasional sharp intake of breath, the room was steeped in silence as he found himself drifting deeper and deeper into the kiss.

Gradually, Andy's lips stilled against Sam's and she rolled onto her back, locking eyes with him for a split second before pushing up on her elbows. Smiling alluringly at him, she reached down and tugged at the bottom of her shirt, exposing an increasingly larger swath of skin as she slid it up and tossed it carelessly to the side. Propping himself up beside her, Sam took in the sight of her lightly-tousled hair and paused as he swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. He drew in a breath and held it as his gaze swept the length of her and he gently splayed his fingers over her stomach, lightly rubbing skin that was buttery soft and warm to the touch. Seemingly unimpressed by the delay, Andy fisted her hands in his shirt and crooked a leg around his waist, dragging him on top of her. As she traced his jawline with a series of soft, feathery kisses, she slipped her hands underneath his shirt, signaling to him that she wanted to see it laying crumpled on the floor beside her own. He quickly complied, pulling back only enough to take it off and toss it away. Sam ran one of his hands down a strand of her hair as he hovered over her, appreciating the significance of the moment, before gently tucking it behind her ear and sliding into a series of long, ragged kisses.

Later, they lay in front of the fireplace with a blanket tossed haphazardly on top of them. From behind, Sam's arms were wrapped securely around Andy as she drew in deep, even breaths, giving every indication that she had slipped off to sleep. With his hands clasped lightly around her midsection, he drew her in even closer to him, unable to get enough of the soft warmth of her skin against his. Nuzzling into the space between her neck and shoulder, he kissed her lightly.

When Andy rotated slowly in his arms and her face came to rest a mere breathing distance from his own, Sam realized he'd been mistaken about her being asleep. Her lips sought his immediately, dragging them both into a long, painstakingly slow kiss. The fire popped and sizzled behind them as the flames reflected off of the smooth surfaces in the room. Sam pulled Andy against him and melted into her. Somewhere deep within him he already knew he'd never be able to satisfy his need for her, and as she poured herself into kissing him, he suspected it was the same for her, too.

Hours passed and they slipped in and out of sleep, neither relinquishing their hold on the other. Each time Sam awakened, he took in his surroundings and the sight of her sleeping against him before dropping back off again. At one point while he was watching her sleep, Andy stirred and her eyes suddenly opened, blinking as she focused on him. She bent her arm and rested her head on it, regarding him thoughtfully. "What were you thinking that day when I got shot?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "That's definitely not what I expected to come out of your mouth," he said with a laugh as he ran a finger across her bottom lip.

"I'm just curious. What was going through your mind?" she asked casually. "We've never really talked about it."

Sam assumed a more serious expression as he licked his lips and gave her question some thought. "Well . . . when you looked at me, I could tell you were scared but working really hard to hold it together. I just wanted to keep anything bad from happening to you . . . do whatever I could to contain the situation. I wanted to protect you," he recalled. "Obviously, that was a bust. I dropped the ball, and you got hurt."

"You couldn't have predicted what would happen, Sam. And you didn't drop the ball. It was out of your control," she told him as she used her free hand to search for his beneath the blanket. When she found it, she brought their joined hands up to rest between them. "For me, I felt a connection when I looked at you. I didn't even know you were a cop then, but when you looked at me, I just knew everything would be okay."

"It wasn't, though," he said with a wry laugh.

"Sure it was. We're here now, and everything's fine," she said in a soothing tone.

Sam swallowed as he regarded her with intensity. As hard as it had been for him to deal with her being shot when he didn't know her, the idea of not being able to protect her now was far worse. Now that she was his, Sam knew he would never be able to keep her safe enough, and he wasn't sure how to come to terms with that.

As if she were reading his mind, Andy said, "You can't always protect everyone. You can't always protect me. Bad things are going to happen, and sometimes you can't do anything to stop them."

"That's a comforting thought," Sam noted, producing a crooked grin as he looked at her. He knew it was something he was going to have to work out on his own; no amount of words was ever going to satisfy his need to keep bad things from happening to the people he loved. "I was there at the hospital the night after you got shot," he said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" she asked as a look of confusion passed across her face.

"I was there," he repeated. "I came to see you the day after you were shot. It was late at night and you were asleep. No one else was around."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," he laughed. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"But you didn't even know me."

"It didn't matter. I was worried about you," he said simply.

Andy was silent as she stared at him with an expression he couldn't read. Sam realized there was a possibility that what he had just told her might freak her out. Finally, she said quietly, "I knew you were there. Or, at least, I knew someone was there."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at her dubiously. "You were asleep, Andy, and I left before you woke up."

"I just had a feeling someone had been there. When I told my Dad the next morning, he said it was probably just the meds they had me on."

"So you had a feeling," Sam teased her as he slipped both of his arms around her. "Good or bad?"

"Definitely good," she assured him. "Warm, protected . . . kind of like now."

He kissed her forehead and tightened his hold on her. "So it doesn't freak you out that I was there?"

"No. I like knowing that you were there with me. It's nice," she decided aloud.

"Nice," he reiterated. "Well, I can be very nice." She giggled and ran her foot up his calf, grinning at him as she leaned in for a kiss.

"I wasn't snoring or drooling in the hospital, was I?" she mumbled against his mouth.

"Only a little bit," he said with a smile. "But it was kind of cute."

When she laughed at him, he pulled the blanket over their heads and rolled on top of her, thankful that they didn't have to be at work the next morning.

Andy woke up to a series of wet licks on her ear and a sleepy grin spread across her face. She was disappointed when she opened an eye to find that it was only Polly, ready to be taken outside for her morning bathroom break. Andy groaned quietly as she rolled onto her back, realizing that one definite negative to dog-sitting was that you had to get up at 6 a.m. to deal with the dog. She made a mental note to only agree to cat-sitting in the future.

She looked over at Sam—still sleeping and completely unaware of the 6 o'clock wake up call. Sighing heavily, she slid out from underneath the blanket that was covering them. The first article of clothing that she spotted was Sam's shirt, so she grabbed it and pulled it over her head. Dragging a second blanket off the back of the couch, she draped it around herself and tiptoed toward the kitchen with Polly trailing behind her. Thankfully, the backyard was fenced in, so all she had to do was let Polly out the door and wait for her to scratch or bark when she wanted to be let back in. While Andy waited, she sat on the kitchen counter near the door with her head resting against the cabinets. She knew she should be tired—probably would be later when her adrenaline took a nose dive—but all she could think about was Sam and the night she'd just spent with him. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She felt completely satisfied and fulfilled. It was a sensation she'd never fully known with anyone before, and as she thought about the man lying in front of the fireplace in the other room, her smile grew wider. No one had ever made her feel the way he did. Everything just felt very right for the first time in her life.

"Morning," Sam mumbled, standing across the room wearing only a pair of jeans. "Please tell me you're not an early riser."

"I'm not," she assured him. "But apparently, Polly is."

Sam's hair was sticking up in several places, giving him an aura of innocence. Andy smiled as she acknowledged that looks could be deceiving. She knew from spending the night with him that he was anything but innocent. He shuffled across the kitchen and leaned against her sleepily as she wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and slid her legs around his waist.

"Since we're up, I might as well put on some coffee," she offered as she stifled a yawn. "And find something to eat. I'm starving. We skipped dinner last night, you know."

"Food was pretty low on the list of priorities," Sam reminded her as he dropped his forehead against hers.

Andy smiled happily at him. "I can't believe we slept on the floor all night," she mused.

"My back definitely believes it," he groaned. "Maybe next time we should try out the guest room—or even the couch."

"So you'll come back and visit me while I'm here if I promise you a bed?" Andy asked in a teasing tone.

"McNally, I'd come back and visit you even if I had to sleep on the floor again," he told her, putting his hands on either side of her face and pulling her toward him for a kiss. "Nice shirt," he observed with a grin as he pulled back and wrapped the blanket securely around her. He walked over to the refrigerator and rummaged around, managing to produce a carton of eggs, butter, milk and even some sausage.

Feeling like she should make a contribution, Andy hopped down off of the counter and started working on the coffee. "I think I saw bread in that cabinet," she informed him, pointing to the door beside the refrigerator.

"Eggs, sausage and toast," he stated, holding up the bread triumphantly as he took it out of the cabinet. "Not a bad haul." He opened several large drawers and produced a series of pans, bowls and cooking utensils. "I say we have some breakfast and then maybe check out the bed in the guestroom," he suggested with a yawn. "I'm ready for a nap. You kept me up way past my bedtime."

"Sam," Andy said softly in his ear. When he didn't budge, she became more persistent, chanting, "Get up, get up, get up," quietly as she slid into bed beside him. She'd already gotten up to deal with Polly and was surprised when she came back into the guest room and found him still sleeping.

"Mmmm," he moaned as he snaked an arm underneath her and pulled her on top of him.

"No time for that," she said, a little less firmly than she'd intended. "We have to be at work soon. And besides, we spent all day in bed yesterday, so now it's time to get up."

"That's an exaggeration. We didn't spend all day in bed," he said groggily. "We got up and took a shower, watched a movie, played with the dog—"

"And went back to bed," she finished.

"Well, it's a nice bed," he insisted.

"Come on. Get up," she ordered him, sitting up and attempting to pull him with her.

"Here's a thought," he mumbled. "If we shower together we'll save time, which means we have a few more minutes before we have to start moving."

"You've got that all worked out, haven't you?" she teased him.

"Yep." He pulled her down on top of him and wrapped her tightly in his arms.

"Sam, you do realize you haven't been home since the day before yesterday, don't you?" she questioned him. "And unless I'm mistaken, you came over here in the same clothes you were wearing at work three days ago."

"So? I just grabbed something and threw it on. I was too tired to put much thought into it. I'm assuming you remember that I'd been up all night at my sister's place, right?"

"So you're okay with showing up at work wearing the same clothes you were wearing the last time you were there? You know what that might imply . . . ."

"People aren't that interested in what I wear to work, McNally. I doubt they'll even notice."

When they were a block away from the station, Andy looked over at Sam and asked, "So how do you want to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Us," she clarified. "Should we keep it quiet or should we just own it?"

"McNally, our friends and co-workers are not that interested in what's going on in our lives," he informed her. "I think we should just do what comes naturally. They probably won't even realize anything has changed."

"If you say so," she agreed hesitantly, not sure that she believed him.

As they were walking across the parking lot, Oliver pulled in and rolled down his window, driving along beside them slowly. "Hey, man. Tried to call you yesterday but you weren't answering. Zoe wanted you to come over for dinner last night."

"Sorry, Brother. I was busy."

"Busy with what?" Oliver persisted.

Sam eyed Oliver suspiciously. "Just busy."

"Seems like we've seen that shirt recently," Oliver observed with an impish smile.

"Don't think so," Sam responded coolly.

"And those jeans look familiar, too."

"All jeans look the same," Sam tossed back at Oliver as he guided Andy toward the door.

Grinning at him, Andy said, "I told you people would notice."

"Oliver's only one person. Besides, I'll be in uniform soon, and it won't matter," he said nonchalantly.

On their way to the locker rooms, they passed Jerry in the hallway. "McNally, Sammy," he greeted them in an upbeat tone. Just before he moved out of earshot, he coughed into his hand and Andy distinctively heard, "Walk of shame."

"Subtle," Sam grumbled as he made a sharp turn into the men's locker room and told Andy he'd "see her in a few."