Note:OMG incredibly long chapter. I meant to post this on Monday, but my sister is getting married in two days and all hell is breaking loose around here.
Oh, and remember how I keep saying "two chapters left, two chapters and an epilogue, three chapters left...", well, don't listen to a damn word I say. I have no idea how long this thing is going to be. If I'd known this would end up being over 11,000 words, I would have split it up. Oops ;)
Originally, the plan was for Andy to get changed so they could run and then go get breakfast. Originally. In hindsight, it might have worked a little better if Sam hadn't gone upstairs with her because on the way, either he reached for her, or she grabbed for him and suddenly, all bets were off. They came together outside her door with a clashing of lips and teeth and tongue. As Sam leaned into Andy, holding her tightly against him, she fumbled behind her back with the knob until finally the door fell away, and they stumbled inside, kicking it shut it loudly behind them.
The way he kissed her… Almost like he thought every time might be the last time. Every time his mouth touched hers, every time his hands skated down over her. It was almost desperate, like he couldn't feel enough of her, couldn't get enough of her. Andy sucked in a breath, leaning into his hands, up against the length of his body.
The heat of her skin through her clothing, the feel of her body pressed against his was something he'd long thought just out of his reach, but she was here, responding to his touch. The robe fell from her shoulders and clearly incapable of any rational thought, he reached down, grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in one motion. He tore off his own and then their shoes and pants were kicked away, scattered to various corners of the room as Sam lifted Andy, settling her legs around his hips and made his way back to her bedroom.
Sometime later, Andy woke. The sun was being blocked out by the blanket over the window, and rays were leaking in around the edges, casting patterns of light on the walls around the room. She was on her side, her back pressed up against Sam's side. Her head was resting in that place where his shoulder met his chest and as her eyes opened, she smiled. She ran a finger along the muscle in his arm, watching it twitch a little in his sleep.
She carefully sat up, looking over her shoulder at him. Andy reached down and pulled the comforter off the floor where it had fallen a few hours before. Dragging it around her shoulders, she sat cross-legged at his hip. She ran her eyes down the length of him, starting at his head, over his chest and sheet-swathed hips to his feet sticking out the end up against the footboard. His face was relaxed, shaving a few years off his age and his hair was stuck out in all directions. His left arm was stretched up, bent at the elbow, hand beneath his head. His other hand was resting on his stomach, fingers gently curved, relaxed.
Andy pulled the blanket closer, shivering involuntarily as she remembered how those hands had fisted in her hair, dragging her mouth back to his. They'd moved up and down her sides, splashing heat over her skin wherever they touched. There'd almost been a sort of desperation to it. They'd been feeling so much for so long and today, all it took was a single spark for total combustion. She combed her fingers through her hair a few times, trying to steady herself, and then reached out to him. She ran a finger along the smooth curve of muscle covering a rib and then flattened her hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat strong and slow beneath. In a move that took her breath away, his hand moved up and closed over hers and she gasped.
"Go back to sleep, McNally," he whispered, opening one eye to look at her.
"You go back to sleep," she hissed.
"Yeah, well, I think most cops are light sleepers," he said, covering his mouth as he yawned.
"You just look different," she said as an explanation. And he did. She'd seen him without a shirt before, she knew his face almost as well as she knew her own. But something had changed. From the point of his shoulder to the turn of each wrist, every detail was dazzling, standing out with a clarity that hypnotized her. He sat up under the sheet, shattering the reverie and reached for her, pulling her close to him so he could kiss her. And when he sat back, he closed his eyes briefly, breathing deeply.
He reached for her under the blanket; it fell away and he turned, pulling her with him, under him. He leaned up on an elbow and gently raked the hair out of her eyes, running it between his fingers for a moment. Andy's hand curled up, gliding up his chest and around to the back of his neck. "This may sound incredibly lame, but do you think we should maybe have gone to dinner or I don't know, had even one date before jumping right into bed?" she asked as she grinned at him.
He laughed wryly. "First of all, if you ask any guy that, he's going to tell you 'no'. Second, dating is for people who don't know each other. I think we know each other better than most people do when they start sleeping together."
She nodded. "That's what I was thinking too," she said. And then she looked up with her eyebrows raised, wrinkling her nose with a smile on her face. "But I'm still going to want dates. You know, where the guy pays."
"I already pay," he murmured, dipping down to brush his lips across hers.
"So you're saying you want things to stay the same?" she teased.
"The same as this? Yeah. That would be fine with me," he whispered. His thumb moved over the scar above her eyebrow and like he did the night she got it, he gently tucked her hair behind her ear. He covered her mouth with his, and after a few slow, slow moments, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. She slid her leg up his, wrapping it around his hip as he pressed kisses on her face and jaw, moving his mouth against the skin of her shoulder. He hadn't shaved before coming over and his whiskers gently abraded her skin and she shivered.
"What are you doing," she asked, laughter in her voice.
He laughed, a rumble that vibrated against her skin and she put her hands on either side of his face, turning it up so he would meet her eyes.
"For once, you and I are going to do something right," he said with a sly smile.
"I'm pretty sure we did it right the first time," she said, anticipation knotting pleasantly in her stomach.
The smile spread into a mischievous grin. "That's what you think."
At one, Andy's alarm went off. Feeling like she'd barely rested at all, she turned under Sam's arm and reached over him to hit the button on the alarm.
"Hey, it's time to get up." She yawned and swung her legs out of bed. She reached down and fumbled on the carpet for clothes. His hand snaked up and grabbed her around her waist, dragging her back down. His left arm was under her, wrapped across her chest, pressing her tightly against him from shoulder to knee and he buried his face in her hair, nose rubbing against the back of her neck where it met her shoulders. She smiled and relaxed against him as the fingers from his other hand fluttered low against her stomach and then slid over her hip. Though they stilled there momentarily, she soon felt them trailing up the inside of her thigh and she jumped out of bed.
"If you're awake enough for that, you're awake enough to come outside with me for an hour," she said laughing. She picked her shirt from the day before up off the floor and put it on, letting it fall down past her hips and padded to the bathroom and turned on the light, looking at herself in the mirror. She splashed some water on her face and put toothpaste on her toothbrush and stuck it in her mouth. She turned around and walked back to the bedroom, leaning against the doorjamb.
"Really, you should get up."
"We ran yesterday," he mumbled into the pillow.
"I think you mean the day before yesterday. Come on. I just want to do a quick one."
"Why don't you just come back here?" Andy could hear the smile in his sleepy voice. He was stretched out on his stomach, face buried in the pillow. When she'd gotten up, the comforter had slipped down, barely covering him at the hip. She smiled appreciatively and then moved her eyes up his body. He had one eye open, and that eye was awake and staring at her, full of heat. She stood in the doorway brushing her teeth for a few seconds and then walked back to the bathroom to rinse and spit. Entering the bedroom again, she approached the bed and crawled onto it. As he turned over, she straddled him. His hands moved up to her hips, and then up her back under her shirt as she bent her mouth to his. Without warning, she reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp. She kissed him quick one more time as he squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away and then she rolled herself off the bed.
She dug through her drawers for her running clothes. Finally pulling them out, she looked up and saw him lying on his side, watching her.
"We can come back after, I promise. In fact, if we eat and get out there in twenty minutes we'll still have a few hours before we have to even think about work." She pulled on her underwear and sports bra, followed by a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
"So why don't we just run in a few hours," he suggested, smiling at her innocently.
"Because you know as well as I do, that we won't make it out there today if I let you talk me back into that bed."
"My stuff is at my house," he said, trying one last thing.
She looked at him disapprovingly. "You wore your running shoes and clothes over here. I'm sure if we look carefully, we'll find all of it. Eventually." She grinned. "Just get up. And when we're done, I'll let you scrub my back after," she said glancing at him, her voice casual.
He his eyes burned into hers and finally he sat up, throwing back the sheet. She stared at him, watching as he walked around, looking for and finally finding his boxer briefs. He pulled them on and she smirked.
"You're turning into a pushover," she said laughing. He shot her a dirty look and she walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen.
"Just for that, you can shower alone," he yelled after her. Her answering laugh echoed down the hallway and he smiled to himself at the sound of it.
They ran and sat down to breakfast and coffee and bathed but it wasn't until they were in the truck on their way to work that the actual topic of their changing relationship came up.
"Are we telling people?" Andy asked, turning to him suddenly. Inside the walls of her apartment, it was like they were locked in this private little world, but she found herself nervous as they drove to work. Like things had been left unfinished.
He raised his eyebrows. "Do you want to?"
She gave him a guilty look. "I'm kind of thinking we should keep it to ourselves for a while. You know, keep it professional."
"Ashamed, McNally?" he teased, looking at her quizzically.
"Obviously." She flashed a grin. "Look, I just want to get things figured out before we start broadcasting it. Not to mention what's going to happen when Best finds out. You don't think they'll split us up, do you?" she asked as the thought occurred to her.
He considered it. "It could happen. Depending on how we play it." She was quiet and he looked over at her. "What exactly are we figuring out?"
"You know," she said, holding out her hand. "This. One day we're friends and then the next we're… I guess I don't really know. Are we dating? Is it serious or are we just sleeping together?" He gave her an irritated look and she smiled. "Okay, not just sleeping together." She paused. "It sounds weird in my head to call you my boyfriend. What should I call you?"
"You mean in your head or to the people we're not telling?" he asked.
"Either one."
"Call me whatever you want."
"You'll regret saying that." She laughed. The awkwardness that was suddenly falling around them during the course of the conversation was lessened when they laughed. Sam reached over and took her hand. Just touching decreased it a little more as he brought it up and kissed the back of her wrist. He laced his fingers through hers and she felt her stomach dip a little.
"We're the same as before," he said. "Just better. I mean, we already spend a lot of time together; we're in and out of each other's places all the time. Now we just shower and sleep over," he smirked, thinking about the last hour before they got ready to leave. "And honestly," he said, looking over at her, his eyes clear. "At this point, I'll take you anyway I can get you. Even if it means keeping it casual until we get used to it." Her heart quickened a little at the look he was giving her, and she ran her lower lip between her teeth anxiously.
"I don't want casual," she said, finally.
"Me either," he admitted, relieved. "We don't have to have it all figured out today."
She nodded. "We have time."
"We do," he agreed. "We'll just take things as they come. One step at a time."
"Okay," she said nodding. Then noticing how close they were to 15, she asked, "Hey, can you pull over here?"
"Why?" He looked in his mirrors and then over at her as he pulled the truck up to the curb.
"It's going to be hours until I can do this again, and I've sort of already gotten used to doing it whenever I want," she said with a devious look as she unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over, taking a handful of his shirt and pulling him over to kiss him. When she pulled back, she opened her eyes and said, "Okay. That should last me a while. Let's go."
They got to the parking lot, and Andy got out of the truck first and ran to the doorway where she saw Traci. She got to the door and was about to walk in behind her when Traci looked over her shoulder once, and then again and stopped in her tracks.
"I know that look," she said with a grin.
"What look?" Andy said as she tried to walk in. Traci put an arm across the entrance, blocking her way.
"That's your 'I got lucky' face." And then her eyes moved over Andy's shoulder to Swarek as he exited his truck and started walking towards them. "I can't believe it," she said. "You two finally did it."
Andy rolled her eyes and ducked under Traci's arm. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah, I'm sure." She laughed and followed her in. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."
"Won't tell anyone what?" Dov asked as he walked up.
"Nothing," Andy and Traci both said as they walked into the locker room.
They began the shift with sobriety checkpoints. They were running the checkpoints for most of the weekend, finally ending at after bar close on Saturday night, or early Sunday morning. After setting up cones, putting out the signs, they worked in groups. The first group directed cars to either move through the checkpoint or diverted them to another lane where the second group would talk to the drivers and decide based on visual and audible cues whether or not they needed to take a portable breath test or if they could be on their way. The third group would administer the breath test or any other field sobriety tests required, and take offenders into custody. They worked for hours, keeping the cars moving through the lanes as quickly as possible, and finally finished up about an hour or so after bar close.
After they shut everything down and cleaned up the site, Sam and Andy went back to the station, a palpable tension running between them, almost like a taut cord strung through their bodies, vibrating with every slight movement. They entered the building together, splitting off for separate sections of the building. Andy went into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face and then dried it, looking at herself in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, she thought she looked happy. Like suddenly any problems she'd had weren't as big as she'd once thought. She walked back out to the main room and sat down at her desk across from Sam.
The problem wasn't with work. They could work together fine. It was when things slowed down a little, when the job was a little less urgent that they ran into problems. They still had a few hours on shift to complete paperwork, tie up any loose ends before going home for the day. He would look up from his desk and find her watching him. Sometimes her eyes would be on his face, and sometimes they would be on his hands, but she always wore this look that he'd only recently come to recognize as wanting. And it wasn't a look that left him at all unaffected. Finally, when she stepped away from her desk, he got up to follow her.
Andy went over to go refill her coffee and Sam walked up behind her, leaning against the filing cabinet, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes played over the other people working around the room, some a little more diligent than others. He appeared casual and wasn't looking at her, but he murmured, loudly enough for only her to hear, "If you're serious about keeping this thing to ourselves for now, you should probably quit looking at me like you've seen me naked."
"Damnit!" she hissed as she sloshed coffee over the side of her cup. He flashed a dimpled grin at her and walked away as she grabbed a handful of napkins to mop up the mess, glaring vengefully at him.
So far, with the exception of Traci, they'd been doing a decent job of keeping things a secret, but he let his guard down a little once. He was perched on the edge of Shaw's desk, going through a file with him when Andy passed by and because he wanted to, he reached out and tweaked the end of her ponytail. She looked over at him with a small smile, running a hand over her hair as she walked away, and he grinned.
Shaw snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Time to get out of the sandbox, Sammy. We've got work to do."
"Yeah, sorry." He held the file up again and started rereading the paragraph he'd started when Shaw spoke again.
"Congratulations, by the way. It's been a long time coming."
Sam looked over at him, thought about denying it, but absolutely no part of him wanted to. Instead, he nodded. "Thanks."
They were in the truck on the way home when the previous day's activity and intermittent sleep started getting the better of Sam, and he yawned deeply, earning a chuckle from Andy. The sun was up and shining brightly through the windshield as they drove back to his place. He yawned once more and adjusted his visor.
"Don't tell me you're tired," Andy teased, yawning herself. He gave her a sidelong glance.
"I didn't sleep very long Wednesday night. And yesterday, someone spent all a really long time wearing me out."
"Well, don't get too comfortable. I have plans for you," she said, with the same look on her face that he'd been seeing all shift, except this time, it was unrestrained, unapologetic.
"Do these plans involve breakfast and a nice long sleep?" he asked, with a smile.
"Maybe eventually," she said, grinning to herself as she turned to watch out the window.
In Sam's kitchen fifteen minutes later, the room was lit only by the sunshine streaming through the windows. Sam was leaning back in a chair, reading the newspaper that lay folded on the table, one hand spooning Cheerios into his mouth, and the other rubbing slow lazy circles on the inside of Andy's free hand with his thumb. She'd been waiting for a while for him to finish eating. She'd figured out about ten minutes into his breakfast that he was deliberately taking as long as possible, making her wait. Impatient, she finally turned her hand up to meet his, and when she laced her fingers through his, he looked over a look of mock surprise on his face.
She stood up and the bowls of cereal were pushed aside, spilling milk onto the table, soaking into the newspaper that had been tossed over her shoulder and she climbed astride him, settling her mouth across his. She held his face between her hands and licked into his mouth as he unwound her braid, spilling the wavy hair over her shoulders.
His hands moved down to her thighs, slid up and under, settling her more firmly against him and as she rocked gently, he moaned breathlessly into her mouth and she laughed triumphantly.
"What happened to sleep?" he mumbled as he pulled away and his mouth slid down the column of her throat.
"I think the word I used was 'eventually'."
A good while later, Andy pushed herself up off his bed, snatched his shirt up from the floor and put it on. She walked around the room and started picking through their discarded clothing on the floor.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.
"I thought I'd go home and shower, get some fresh clothes, maybe sleep a little. I'll be back later to run." She reached out when she found a sock.
"Why don't you stay here and we can stop by your place later," he said, brows drawing together in curiosity.
She shrugged and kept her head down. "I just like to sleep in my own bed."
He smirked. "Oh yeah. Your love 'em and leave 'em routine. I forgot."
"What do you know about it?" She bent down as she found her shirt and bra tangled together under his jeans and as she righted them, her head came up, meeting his gaze.
"I have good ears. I heard you and Callaghan talking about it after you walked out on him, remember?"
"It's no big deal."
"You're right," he said, leaning back against the headboard folding his hands behind his head.
"I am?" She sounded distrustful of his response.
"Go home if you want. I think you should stay. I want you to stay. But you don't have to."
"It's just that I won't sleep," she said, feeling the need to defend her choice.
"Let me ask you this," he said, leaning forward under the sheet, putting his elbows on his knees. "Are you tired?"
"Yeah," she nodded. He nodded in answer and thought about it for a second.
"Let's make a deal. We have," he picked up his watch off the bedside table. "A really long time before we have to be back to work. Give me a few hours. If you don't sleep, we don't have to talk about it again for a while." She was hesitating. "I'll even set the alarm."
"One hour," she said after thinking it over.
"Two," he argued quickly.
She paused in contemplation and finally nodded. "Okay. Two hours." She dropped everything on the floor. "One step at a time, right?"
"One step at a time," he repeated as he held the blanket up so she could slide in.
Two hours later, Sam's alarm went off. He opened his eyes and felt Andy curled against him. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was deep and even, relaxed. He reached over her and tried to hit the button, but could only reach the cord and so he wrapped it around his hand once and yanked it from the wall, silencing it. Then he rolled back and pulled the blanket back up over their shoulders and gathered her against him again, closing his eyes.
After a full eight hours, Andy was walking around the kitchen barefoot with her cellphone. Her hair was damp and hanging down her back, leaving a large wet spot on her shirt. She peeked out the doorway, listening for the shower and then put the phone back up to her ear.
"Trace, I slept over."
"Yeah, I know you think you're a master of deceit, but I already know about you two."
"No, I mean, I slept…at Sam's."
"Okay." Traci still sounded like she didn't get it, and then it dawned on her. "Wait, what about your fear of foreign beds?" Andy repeated their conversation and how not only had she managed to fall asleep, but she'd stayed asleep. They'd woken up to the alarm on Andy's phone and had hit the snooze on that a few times before she finally got up and made her way to the bathroom to clean up for work, leaving Sam still dozing. They'd skipped the run, but somehow she didn't care.
"Well it makes sense, if you think about it," Traci rationalized.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Traci repeated, "You trust him. You know he's not going anywhere, and so you don't feel like you have to leave him first."
"Are you taking psych classes at night school or something?"
Traci laughed to herself. "You think you're complicated, but you're not."
Andy froze again as she heard the water shut off. "I've gotta go. I'll talk to you at work." She hung up the phone and started filling the coffee pot, and by the time Sam came out to the kitchen and started hunting around for food, she was sitting at the table, sipping casually from a large ceramic mug and paging through a magazine.
The next two nights passed much the same. They worked the sobriety checkpoints and then spent another hour or so on patrol, and then finished up with paperwork. During their downtime after their second shift, they went to the gym, did a torturous session on the track to make up for the missed run and then went back to Andy's and passed out. They woke and went out for an early dinner before getting to the division for their third and final night shift.
Out on the streets, they'd been separated for most of the weekend. Andy was in the first group with Williams for most of the time, sending cars on their way or over to Shaw, Peck and Nash in the second group. Swarek was in the third group, supervising Epstein and Diaz as they dealt with the questionable cars. They rotated positions every few hours, but other than a brief word in passing, or the slight pressure of his hand on her back as he walked by, she didn't really have much contact with him. So whenever they were back at the station, and she thought no one was paying attention, her eyes were on him. She'd been talking with Traci and Detective Barber for a few minutes when they were called away by Shaw to help with reports. Once she was seated, she looked over her shoulder at Sam and made a face. He smiled and walked past Barber on his way to his desk when Jerry grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Sam broke eye contact with Andy and turned to face him.
Jerry took a sip from his coffee. "So we're all going out to breakfast after this. Are you in?"
"Who's all?"
"Well it started out as just me and Nash, maybe Oliver, but she asked Diaz and Peck. Then they invited Epstein, and so on. Pretty big group."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, sure." He started to walk away, but Jerry stopped him again.
"Can I give you some advice, buddy?"
"Uh, no," Sam said, flashing him a grin.
"As someone who's been in your place…" Jerry started, looking down, switching his coffee from one hand to the other.
"What place is that?" Sam asked, squinting a little in confusion.
"You know, in a secret relationship, trying to keep it secret." Jerry smiled knowingly as he met his eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam said, his face emotionless.
"Yeah, I thought you'd say that. I'll keep it to myself, but you might want to shower at your place."
"Huh?"
"You smell like McNally," Jerry said, taking a sip of his coffee, breathing in quickly as it burned his tongue.
"What?" he asked, turning to face him.
"Her shampoo."
"Oh." Sam looked at him, said nothing else.
Jerry grinned, satisfied. "I didn't make detective because of my good looks you know. Although I'm sure they didn't hurt," he added, bringing the coffee up to his lips again.
Andy was waiting in the parking lot for him. She was looking forward to getting breakfast over with and going home and sleeping for the rest of the day, maybe squeezing in a run, definitely squeezing in some alone time with Sam. But he hadn't made it outside yet, and people were starting to leave. Her stomach started to growl and when Traci came out of the building, Andy took the opportunity to get a ride. As they were pulling out of the parking lot, she saw him step into the parking lot and she mouthed "sorry" through the window and waved.
The restaurant wasn't very busy yet for a Sunday morning, and they were able to pull tables together to fit the large group of people. Andy was sitting at one end of the group, and had been covertly saving a seat for Sam, but Gail sat down in it, not noticing the annoyed look Andy gave her. Sam ended up four chairs down on the other side of the table, and Andy found that she had to crane her neck to even catch a glimpse of him over all the heads bobbing forward while people ate. But when their eyes did meet... The looks he was giving her were making it incredibly difficult to sit there, pretending nothing was going on. Finally, she got up from the table with a quiet word and she walked to the bathroom. Amid the noise of silverware against plates and conversation and laughter, no one seemed to notice her disappearance.
Sam saw her turn the corner and sat there for a minute and then his phone chirped at him. He got up and held up his phone in explanation to anyone who might have questioned his sudden disappearance as he walked to the front of the restaurant, turning the corner. He glanced over his shoulder and walked down the hall. As he passed by the door to the women's bathroom, it sprang open and Andy grabbed his shirt and dragged him in. He quickly took note of the incredibly feminine air freshener and the fact that the women's bathroom was much cleaner than the men's bathroom and grinned at her.
"This is incredibly romantic," he said sarcastically as she backed him into the large stall at the end, locking the door behind them. Then she pressed her mouth against his, and he didn't say anything else. He filled his hands with her, running them over her arms, down her back, finally down to her hips and over her rear, pressing her against him.
She opened her mouth under his and as she slid her tongue into his mouth, they heard the bathroom door open and Traci said, "Andy?"
Andy pulled her head back and put a hand over Sam's mouth, turning in the direction of Traci's voice as Sam still held her against him.
"Uh, yeah?"
"I'm about to take off. Did you need a ride?" Traci stepped closer to the stall, bending down to look underneath.
"Um, I think I'll catch one in a little bit."
"Alright, I'll see you later then." She started walking towards the door and over her shoulder said, "By the way Swarek, I can see your feet."
Andy burst into laughter and Sam leaned his head back against the wall, rolling his eyes.
"I'm too old for this shit," he said, bending down to her mouth once more before setting her away from him. He unlocked the door and they walked through it. Andy pushed him out the door and moved over to the mirror. She stood there a few moments, noticing the high color in her cheeks, the disheveled appearance of her clothing and carefully moved everything back into place, tying her hair up. After pressing cool wet fingers to her cheeks, she walked back out to the table.
After breakfast, after they'd entered his house laughing, unable to keep their hands off each other, and after he'd tumbled her down onto his bed, they lay there on their sides, hands clasped between their pillows as they talked.
Andy's heart was still racing and Sam was silent for a few moments, then reached out and brushed the hair out of her eyes, and she felt it all the way through her body.
"I love you." It burst out of her so quickly that she covered her mouth with one hand and then said, "Oh God. I know it's too early for that."
He shook his head, feeling a warmth spread through him and he rolled onto his back, keeping his head turned so he could look at her. "Nothing about this is going according to schedule," he reasoned. "And considering how long I've been wanting to hear it, no. It's not too early."
"I wanted to say it before," she admitted with a whisper. "That day you were almost shot. And way before that. Even saying it now, it doesn't feel like I'm saying enough." He breathed deeply, letting her words sink in, thinking of all the time they'd wasted. "You're not going to say it back," she teased, jolting him out of his own mind.
He felt the corner of his mouth turn up. "Man, you're greedy today," he complained. "You take advantage of me in a bathroom of all places, completely tie up my entire morning, and now you want promises?" She laughed as he reached out for her, and she scooted over, twining her legs with his under the blankets.
He covered her shoulder with his hand, running it down over the muscle and then kissed the hollow where her neck met her shoulder. "I love this place on you."
"Just there?" she asked smiling.
He looked at her, feeling for a brief second that nothing in his life had ever been so right, and moved to kiss her. "That's only the first place," he said.
They caught up on their sleep for most of the day, and then got up and had a light snack and then both got ready for their long run in the evening. There were thirteen days until the half and so Andy added another mile. Maybe it was just coming off the night shift, her sleep cycles trying to right themselves, or her new surprisingly active social life, but she was tired. She'd slept for hours, but didn't feel quite up to the run. A few times, she had to slow to a walk and as Sam slowed next to her, he asked if she was okay.
"This was such a bad idea. I'm just wiped out."
He stopped and pulled the water bottle out of her belt and drank from it. "I know exactly how you feel."
"How much farther do we have?" she asked, wiping the back of a wrist over her forehead.
Sam looked off in the distance out of habit, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see the truck from where they stood. "Another two miles or so."
"Do you want to skip it?"
He looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "Do you want to skip it?"
She thought about it and then shook her head. "I guess not." She stretched a little and started walking again, finally breaking into a light jog after a dozen steps. She should have eaten something more substantial than the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she'd had before they left. The two energy bars she'd eaten at mile 5 and 9 had helped, but she wasn't powering through like she knew she was capable of doing. They were half a mile from the end when he said something to her, and she missed it. She turned her head to look at him and stepped off the path. Her ankle bent outwards and feeling it roll, she rolled with it, ending up on her side in the inch or so of snow left on the ground. She pushed herself to a sitting position and by the time Sam made it back to her, had her sock pulled down, just to look. He knelt down and took her shoe in his hand. Under the sock, her ankle looked normal.
"What happened?"
"I just rolled it a little."
"Can you walk on it?"
"I'm going to try." She got up, standing on one foot and then took a step gingerly. "I think it'll be okay," she said, even as her face blanched a little and he shook his head.
"Stay here and sit down. I'll go get the truck." She didn't argue as he sprinted the last half mile, but she didn't sit. She hobbled up to a tree and braced a hand against it as she stood on the good ankle and flexed her foot. She rolled the joint around. The initial roll had hurt, and it was throbbing a tiny bit, but the longer she stood waiting for Sam, the more the pain ebbed. She put it on the ground again and started walking on it. It felt a little weak, but she could walk on it. It didn't feel like sprains she'd had in the past. Maybe just a good strain. A little ice, a little ibuprofen, some elevation. She'd be good as new in a few days.
An hour or so later, they were together on Sam's couch, an open pizza box on the coffee table in front of them, and the television playing loudly across the room. Andy had her head in Sam's lap and her foot elevated on a pillow on the arm of the couch, an icepack wrapped around it with an ace bandage. He smoothed a hand over her head, feeling the softness of her hair under his hand and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.
She breathed in deeply at his touch, and when Andy spoke, she was quiet, almost shaky. "It wasn't like this when I was with Luke. This feeling. Even when it was good." She paused, not really wanting to ask, but finding she couldn't help herself. "Was it like this with Kate? Did you feel like this?" She turned over and looked up at him. Sam hadn't talked much about their breakup. Andy knew he was still feeling guilty over it; would probably always feel guilty over it. But when they were together like this, even though she knew she should, it was hard for Andy to summon up any large regrets. However, it didn't mean she wasn't wondering about it. It didn't mean she that she was immune to what had gone on between them.
He looked down at her, saw the slight concern clouding her features. "It's never been like this with anyone," he said, hoping she could see that he meant it. He put his hand on her stomach and she reached up and touched his fingers once.
"Really?" He nodded and reached up, rubbed his thumb along the curve of her jaw. Without saying anything more, she reached up for his hand and held it in hers as she turned towards the noisy television.
They sat at his table before work on Tuesday. Andy was reading the newspaper while eating cereal and had her foot in Sam's lap. He was winding a self-adhesive bandage around the joint, immobilizing it slightly. The day before, she'd been stuck in a chair with her foot up, alternating between ice packs and no ice packs. She was already tired of sitting around and was grateful to get back to work. When she'd gotten up that morning, she'd felt a slight twinge, but nothing compared to how it had felt two days before. He ran a fingertip up the center of her foot and she flexed her foot.
"Swelling's pretty much gone," he said, a little surprised.
"It was barely swollen to begin with," she argued. "I told you it was better."
"It's not better yet," he said. "How does it feel?"
"It feels fine. I could probably do without the bandage."
"Maybe if I hadn't seen you limping out of the bathroom this morning," he said, giving her a disapproving look.
"I'm just babying it a little." She put her foot down on the ground when he finished, curling her toes against the cold floor. "Maybe tomorrow then."
"You'll have to ask the doctor."
She didn't say anything and he pulled down the center of the newspaper so he could see her face.
"You did make an appointment right?"
She shrugged. "I thought I might wait until tomorrow."
"That's what you said yesterday."
"And today it feels better. I told you; I'm just babying it a little."
He sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "You do know that if you don't get this taken care of, it'll keep you out of the race, right?"
She was starting to get irritated, but was trying to keep her attitude in check. "I don't need to spend all day waiting for the doctor to tell me that it's fine. I barely feel it at all today."
He bent down to her, looked her right in the eye and said, "I think you're full of shit." Then he walked out of the room to pack up his duffel for work and Andy rolled her eyes. She flexed her foot in the bandage and when she felt nothing other than normal movement, she smirked to herself.
"Alright people. The drug squad needs a handful of uniforms to assist with a raid later today. You'll be expected to contain the perimeter, make arrests, that kind of thing. For this I want Swarek, Williams, Diaz and McNally. This is a really important bust, so everyone really needs to be on their game."
Andy sat quietly, a barely contained smile on her face. After being sedentary for the last day or so, she was looking forward to getting out of the building and something like this was just what she needed. Best finished up and she stood up, moving toward the door, wanting to get out and get ready. She turned to say something to Sam, but he wasn't behind her. She searched the room and finally saw him up at the front talking to the staff sergeant. Both of them turned their eyes toward her, and she felt the familiar sinking feeling of dread. Sam walked toward the door, brushing his hand against hers inconspicuously as he passed. Best called her up and she shot a dirty look through the window where she saw Sam waiting and walked up to Frank.
"Swarek says you're injured."
She shook her head. "I rolled my ankle the other day. It's alright. I'm walking on it."
"Let's see." She walked across the room, feeling not even the barest hint of a twinge with the tape and her boot supporting the ankle. "Stand on one foot." She did it, keeping her face frozen, as the extra weight caused the tiniest prick of pain near the ankle bone. "Can I see it?" he asked.
She looked up. "Excuse me?"
"Let's see the ankle, McNally."
She took a deep breath and sat down, and shaking her head angrily, unlaced her boot. As long as he didn't know she was wrapping it, she might have had a chance but now… Her heart sank. She took it off and pulled of her sock so he could see her ankle taped up.
"Have you had this looked at?"
She shook her head. "It's fine. It already feels better than it did yesterday, and there's no swelling. I'm only wrapping it to be safe."
He stood back, hands at his waist. "Are you still racing in two weeks?"
She looked up in surprise. "How did you know about that?"
He leaned back on the table and crossed his arms, smiling cryptically. "I know more than you think." Her eyes cut to him and he held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary and then stood up. "Here's the deal. You're off this bust. You're on front desk. I want you to go see the doctor and when he or she gives you the okay, you'll be back on the streets. Until then, you might as well get comfortable." He stood up and walked out of the room and Andy pulled her boot on and laced it up tight.
She walked out of the room and passed Swarek who was waiting for her. Before he could even get a word out, she held up a hand angrily and said, "I can't believe you did that."
"Andy."
She stalked towards the women's bathroom and opened the door. He grabbed it and held it open as she tried to close it behind her.
She turned to face him and grabbed the handle, jerking the door out of his hand.
"By the way, the jig is up," she said sarcastically. "Even he knows about us."
Halfway through the day, Sam approached the front desk with a couple of coffees in hand. He set them on the counter and looked at Andy who was stubbornly keeping her head down.
"You're not even going to look at me?"
She lifted her gaze, eyes flicking over the coffee. "I don't know," she said slowly. "Is that supposed to be some sort of apology," she asked.
Sam glanced over at Epstein sitting next to her, typing on the computer, trying with some difficulty to mind his own business. He made his way around the counter and sat on the edge of the desk, holding out the cup.
"I guess it can be," he reasoned. "Sure. Think of it as an 'I'm sorry you're mad' coffee," he said with a smirk.
She looked at him unimpressed. "I'm more in the mood for an 'I'm sorry I'm an overbearing and intrusive ass' coffee."
"Why would you want 'ass coffee'?" Epstein joked. Sam and Andy both turned the full force of their glares on him. "Okay, clearly this is a private moment. I'm just going to be over there." He pointed and then got up and uncomfortably walked around them to assist someone who'd just entered the building.
"Just take it," Sam said, holding out the cup.
"No."
"Goddamn it, Andy," he said under his breath.
"Fine." She reached out and took it and then swiveled her chair around and held out her arm, releasing the cup so it fell into the trash can.
"And I actually paid for that," he said, irritation obvious in his voice. "I guess that was $2 well spent."
"Well, you might as well save your money until I'm cleared for duty. Since you got me put on restriction," she said, reminding him again.
"You know as well as I do that if you really hurt yourself chasing someone during that raid, you'd hate yourself for missing the race. Not to mention that you could have jeopardized the entire operation, so cut me some slack. You'll have another chance at it."
"You're somehow not making this any better."
"You know, as your senior officer it's my job to…"
"I'm warning you." She pointed a finger at him. "Do not finish that sentence if you hope to see me naked anytime in the near future," she whispered angrily.
He paused, looking at her under lowered eyelids. Finally, he tried something else. "I'm just worried about you," he said honestly.
"Well, I don't need you to worry about me. I know my body. I know what it's capable of and I'm fine."
He lowered his voice and bent down to her, glancing around for people close enough to overhear him. "Well, at this point, I think I know your body pretty well too," he said pointedly. "And it's not the body of a super hero or a professional athlete." She didn't say anything. "A professional athlete would see a doctor," he muttered. "Did you make an appointment to go in?"
"I've got one tomorrow morning. And the only reason I'm going is to get cleared for duty, so don't act all proud. I'm not doing this for you."
"I don't really care why you're doing it, as long as you go." She didn't say anything, just tapped her fingers in irritation against the desk, glaring at him. "Look, I'll be back from this and finished up in time to take you home."
"Don't bother. I'm going to the Penny with Traci tonight. So if you feel like apologizing," she said, with raised eyebrows, "you'll know where to find me."
Swarek felt his temper rise above the boiling point and he gave her an unpleasant smile. "Sweetheart, it'll be a cold day in hell before you get an apology out of me." She raised her eyebrow again at the challenge. "I did what I thought was right. But if you'd like to admit that you're just being stubborn, you've got my number."
Late that night, Andy lay in bed. Even hours later, she was still furious. From what she'd overheard at the bar, the raid had basically been a cakewalk for Diaz and Peck who'd gone in her place. There hadn't been a single runner, and they'd basically just walked a line around the house, keeping their hands on their guns and then had transported the offenders to the station. And she'd missed out. She got up and walked to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and drank down a third of it. She'd been too crabby after work to even enjoy herself much at the Penny and now she was awake in the middle of the night. She looked at the clock. Four hours until she had to get up to shower for her next shift.
She went back to her bed and lay down. As mad as she was, she knew that part of the reason she couldn't sleep was because she was alone. And that pissed her off too. It was amazing how quickly she'd gotten used to feeling the weight of someone else in the bed next to her. How nice it was to get up in the middle of the night and come back, feet chilled from the cold floor and to slide into bed with someone warm to curl up next to. A small part of her considered going over to his place to apologize, just so she could sleep.
You're mad, McNally. Remember that. Don't give him the satisfaction. Groaning, she pulled the blanket over her head, determined to sleep, even if it took all night.
The next day, she waited outside her apartment for Traci. She was supposed to give her a ride over to the clinic to see the sports medicine physician and she was late. Andy sat on the steps, feeling miserable. She was tired and feeling the chill from the stone cutting through her jeans. The air was warming though. The trees hadn't yet started to bud, but the frost wasn't as thick on them in the mornings lately, and the days were getting lighter earlier. She sat there a few more minutes and then her phone rang and she pulled it out.
"Where are you?"
"I'm so sorry," Traci said. "Things just got crazy at home this morning, and I still haven't left the house."
"Traci, what am I supposed to do?"
"Well, I called someone."
"Who?" Andy asked.
"Don't get mad."
Andy watched as Sam's silver truck pulled up to the curb. "Yeah, thanks. I'll talk to you later." She snapped the phone shut and stood up.
Sam got out and walked around the truck and up the sidewalk. "I hear you need a ride." He looked at her closely. "You didn't sleep well last night?" he asked with an innocent smile. In truth, he'd probably clocked in around 3 hours, but he wasn't about to admit it.
Andy was fighting to keep her temper in check but she had no other choice and she stalked past him and climbed in. There were two coffees steaming in the cup holders and she ignored them, even though the smell was positively intoxicating, the caffeine calling to her. Sam got in and pulled the truck onto the road, sliding his eyes over to her every now and again as she stared angrily out the window.
He pulled into the parking lot and she got out, expecting him to just drop her off, but he parked, got out and walked up with her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I thought I'd come with you."
"I think not."
"I'll just sit in the waiting room."
"No."
"How are you getting to work, McNally?"
She thought about it. "I guess I'll call a cab."
He smirked. "Maybe you could run it, if you really are as healed as you think. It's only ten miles."
She stepped up to him, looking him in the eye at his obvious challenge. "Maybe you should come in, just so you can hear for yourself that I'm fine."
He smiled, a little proud of himself for working the situation. "Maybe I should."
So Andy found herself sitting on an exam table with both her shoes off, Sam sitting in a chair in the corner. Dr. Kimball, who was a decently good-looking man in his early forties, told her to call him Kris, and was holding her foot between his hand, manipulating the joint, bending it out, bending it in. He held the ball and the heel and rolled it around a few times. He seemed extremely competent at his job.
"Any pain when I do this?"
"Maybe a little pinch. It doesn't really hurt."
"Well there's no swelling."
"But there was," Sam interjected.
Kris looked over his shoulder at him. "After running 13 miles, I'd be surprised if her feet weren't a little swollen, but even so. Any bruising?" Andy shook her head. "At worst, I'd say you have a very minor sprain; possibly you just stretched that ligament out a tiny bit. I don't know if I'd even go that far though. Ideally, I'd like to see you stay off it for another week or so, absolutely no serious running, just to be sure, but I think it'll be fine. There's no inflammation, and I'm not really reproducing any pain when I move it or press on it."
"I'm supposed to run on it in two weeks," Andy said, a question in her voice. "The Sunday after this one."
"The half marathon," he asked and she nodded. He considered it. "Give it until next Friday and do a practice run. Just a short one to see how it feels; see how it absorbs the shock. If you feel any pain whatsoever, you'll probably have to drop out, but I have a suspicion that you'll probably be fine. Just keep wrapping it. If it starts to hurt again, come back." He stood up and nodded to the nurse who made a note in her chart. As he stood up and moved toward the door, he nodded to her and said with a friendly smile, "Oh, and Andy? I'll see you at the race." She smiled at him and nodded, reaching down to pull her socks and shoes back on. She looked over and saw Sam rolling his eyes.
"What?"
"It figures you'd get another runner to check you out."
"Well, he said I was fine. And he's a doctor," she said, smugly.
"Actually," Sam said, getting up and walking over to her. "I'm pretty sure he said to stay off it."
"He said no long distance; he didn't say I couldn't do my job."
"Well, let's ask him," Sam said and walked out into the hallway. Andy scrambled to collect her second shoe and hobbled out there, one foot still bare.
Sam walked up to Kris and said something and by the time Andy made it to them, they were facing each other, talking.
"So we're having a little disagreement about work. Can she get a work release form or does she need to wait?"
The doctor turned to look at her. "What do you do?"
"I'm a police officer."
He made an apologetic face. "If you're serious about racing, I'd look at this as an opportunity to catch up on your paperwork."
Sam was giving her his most irritating, triumphant smile. "I'll take that apology any time now," he said as the doctor walked off.
She looked at him through slitted eyes. "What was it you said? 'A cold day in hell?' That sounds good to me," she said and sat down heavily in a chair to put her shoe on.
For the second night in a row, she was lying in her bed alone, sleepless. After work when she made the decision to come back alone, she'd been extremely clear on why. He'd interfered in her job. He'd been way too pushy about the way she chose to take care of herself; something, she reminded herself, she'd been doing for years. But a little voice in her head was arguing. She knew he worried about her. She'd always known. And he had been incredibly sweet on their days off taking care of her. You're still on desk duty for the next week, McNally. Did she think she'd been wrong? Not really. Maybe just a little optimistic, and yes, stubborn. Did she want to apologize? Absolutely not. Did she really miss being able to turn over and feel him warm under her hand? Yes.
She rolled over, balling up her pillow under her head and watched the numbers slowly change on her clock. Two o'clock in the morning. And she was wide awake. She'd taken a shower a couple of hours earlier, thinking that might help, but no such luck. She watched for another ten minutes and then mumbled, "Screw this," and flung the covers off and got out of bed. She pulled a pair of sweatpants on over her shorts and she went out to the entrance and slipped her shoes on and put her coat on over her pajamas. She grabbed a knapsack and stuffed a day's change of clothing in, along with her toothbrush and shoved her phone in the pocket of her coat.
She argued with herself the whole way over there. She wanted to be sleeping in her own bed. She wanted to be strong and stand up for herself. But at the same time, she couldn't sleep in her own bed, because he wasn't there with her. She wanted to turn around and go home before he realized she was caving. But not as badly as she wanted to be lying next to him.
She used the key he'd given her, unlocked the back door, turning the knob soundlessly. She closed it quietly behind her and bent down to untie her shoes and slipped them off. She hung her coat over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and walked in her socks through the dark house, knowing every turn, every piece of furniture, until she came to the bedroom at the end of the hall on her left. The door was ajar and she pushed it open slowly with one hand. As light shined in on the room, she stepped in, clearing the door with her bag before pushing it closed. She put her bag on the floor as she walked over to the dresser. She held on to the top as she reached down and took off her socks one at a time. She slid her sweatpants down, tossing them over the top of the knapsack and was just taking her hair down when Sam flipped on the lamp by his bed. He looked completely alert, hair mussed from rubbing against the pillow, eyes tired, but awake.
She held up a finger. "This is not me apologizing," she warned.
He shook his head, exasperated and held open the covers. "Just get over here."
Andy woke the next morning to him squeezing her hip gently with one hand. She turned over to face him. He both looked and smelled freshly showered and shaved. He was completely dressed, even had his shoes on.
"Get up, McNally. I let you sleep, but you've got maybe fifteen minutes to get up and get dressed if you want to make it to breakfast before we have to go in." She sat up quickly, pushing the covers off and as he stood up, she swung herself out of bed. Grabbing her bag, she took it into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, her hair, splashed some water on her face and got dressed. He was waiting for her when she came out and held her coat out to her, and she put it on, pulled on her shoes and they left.
They slid into the same booth they'd shared the night they'd come to the diner for pie. Same sides of the booth. Sam ordered waffles and Andy got an egg-white omelet with vegetables stuffed inside and piled on top. The coffee was hot and it slid down her throat, warming her from the inside out. So far, he hadn't said anything about her stealing into his house in the dead of the night. But she knew it was only a matter of time.
He was looking at her like he was trying to judge her mood. Either he thought her amenable or decided he didn't care because he sat back in the seat for a moment and held up his cup, sipping at it once before he said her name. She raised an eyebrow.
"I really was worried about you, you know."
She looked at him and after a second she nodded. "I do."
"And I know you don't want to hear this, but I need to say it, so you understand." He put his arms on the table in front of him, leaning over it. "No matter what either one of us says or does outside of work, on the job, I'm responsible for your safety and your ability to do your work. If I thought that Diaz or Peck were less than one hundred percent, I would have done the exact same thing to them."
Andy just stared at him.
"If I knew that you were in a position to not only injure yourself but also to blow that raid, and didn't say anything…" He paused and glanced down at the table for a second, finding the words. "If I hadn't said anything, I would have been doing it for you; I would have been favoring you," he said looking up at her again. "And if you had hurt yourself, and someone realized I knew about it beforehand; if they thought my feelings for you were compromising my judgment, they would split us up in a second. For good." He put his hands flat on the table in front of him. "And maybe I should have talked to you about it first, before just running up there and narcing you out, but my intentions were good." He looked at her, waiting for her to say something. "This also is not an apology, in case you were wondering," he finally finished, eyes twinkling a little.
She sat there a second, studying his face, squinting a little. "I hear what you're saying, but why do I get the feeling that you just pulled that out of your ass?"
"Even if I had, it wouldn't mean it's not true." He held out a hand. "Let's just consider this one a draw?"
Andy took a deep breath; released it, admitting to herself that she was tired of this whole argument. She was tired of being mad at him for reasons that seemed more ridiculous every second. She grasped his hand and shook it once. Instead of releasing it, he brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of her wrist. "Don't even start that with me," she warned with a smile. "We don't have any time to make up right now." He shot a grin at her and did it again. "Really. We haven't even gotten our food yet and we have a half hour to get to work."
He looked down, took her hand in both of his and rubbed his thumbs over the place his lips had been moments before. "There's always the incredibly public women's bathroom," he said, trying not to laugh as she blushed and pulled her hand away.
Note: I'm kind of afraid of changing the entire tone of the story, but let's make this a warning. I'm reserving the right to change the rating of this story, when/if I choose to dirty this up.